“What do you mean?” June tried to keep the panic from her voice. “You know you can still order books and the mobile library will bring them every fortnight.”
“I’m just not sure I’ll really want to use the library bus,” he said with a shrug. “It won’t be the same, will it?”
“No, not exactly the same. But you can still—”
“I’d better go now. We’re going to visit my great-aunt Pauline; she has osteoporosis. Did you know it weakens bones and means they can break really easily?”
“Is that right?”
“I looked it up here in the encyclopedia,” he said, and then he turned and walked out the front door.
June watched him go and bit her lip; she’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry again this week, whatever happened.
The morning passed quickly. Now that the library was about to close it seemed everyone in the village wanted to use it, and June was rushed off her feet helping people with their inquiries. At midday, she was reshelving when she heard her name being holleredacross the room. She looked up to see Mrs.Bransworth and Chantal bowling toward her.
“There you are!”
“Hi, guys,” June said, alarmed at the determined look in their eyes.
“When are you leaving?” Mrs.B said.
“At twelve thirty, why?”
Chantal checked her watch. “That only gives us half an hour; we’d better get going.”
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you wearing to your job interview?” Mrs.B asked.
“Eh, this.” June indicated her work trousers and white shirt.
“What did I tell you?” Chantal said to Mrs.B, rolling her eyes.
June looked between them. “What’s going on?”
“You can’t go to a job interview looking like that,” Chantal said. “I’m going to give you a mini makeover while Mrs.B gives you some last-minute interview prep.”
“Really?” June hadn’t even realized they knew she had an interview today.
“Yes, really,” Mrs.B said. “Now, come on, we’ve got a hell of a lot to do.”
They frog-marched her to the toilets, and for the next twenty minutes June allowed herself to be prodded, poked, and squeezed as Chantal attacked her hair and face with a variety of tools. All the while Mrs.Bransworth fired fiendish questions at her. By the time they’d finished, June felt exhausted—and she hadn’t even had the interview yet. She stood facing the two of them as they surveyed her.
“Not bad at all,” Chantal said.
“We’ve done a pretty good job, if I say so myself,” Mrs.B said with a satisfied nod. “Have a look at yourself in the mirror, then.”
June turned around to face the toilet mirror and let out a gasp. Her usual plain, sensible outfit been replaced by a bright floral dress, cinched at the waist with a belt. Her hair had been released from its bun and Chantal had somehow tamed the frizz, so that now it hung in lovely loose curls over one shoulder. Her skin was no longer deathly pale, but she had a pink tinge in her cheeks, and her eyes looked like they were sparkling.
“Wow, I look—”
“You look bloody gorgeous,” Mrs.B said.
June turned back to them, tears pricking her eyes.
“Don’t cry—you’ll smudge the mascara!” Chantal said.
“Okay.” June smiled. “But thank you both so much. You’ve made me into a different person.”
