Aleisha hadn’t understood his fascination. Aidan had always been the bookish one. He was studious, often learning for learning’s sake; whereas she did her work only to get the grades, and would never have just curled up with a book in the way he used to.
Their mum would bring them here on the odd occasion as children, and Aleisha couldn’t bear the silence. She’d kick and scream, wanting to run around in the park just outside. As they’d grown older, Aleisha had never made her way back to the library by herself, but Aidan used to head there after school, sometimes to do his homework, but mostly to read books for fun.
So as soon as Aleisha said Topshop wouldn’t take her, Aidan had suggested the small, quiet, musty Harrow Road Library. She was sort of doing this job for him, hoping, in some small way, to make him proud.
‘I’m off out too, Aleisha, you’ll be all right on your own for a bit?’ Lucy, one of the two library volunteers, scooted out from between some shelves. Thermos said there just wasn’t enough funding to actually employ any more staff – there wasn’t enough of an incentive to have two perfectly good libraries going, when the Civic Centre one was super swish, so they needed to do all they could to cut costs whilst also providing ‘the best service possible’。 Lucy had lived in Wembley for years, and Harrow Road had been her go-to library, when it was fully funded. She loved to talk about the good old days, when children would pile in at the holidays. ‘This library used to be so full and vibrant, you know, Aleisha. I like coming back here a couple of times a week, it just brings back memories of my little ones. They became readers here.’ Lucy loved to reminisce. She’d told Aleisha this story at least fifteen times already, always saying, ‘Stop me if I’ve said this before.’
‘It’s quieter these days, kids playing Xbox and stuff, I guess!’ Lucy continued. ‘My little ones, though, they inhaled every page they got their hands on.’
One of Lucy’s kids had gone on to run her own hair salon, opening up two or three in the area, and they were doing really well. The other had trained as an accountant working for some law firm in the city. Lucy was endlessly proud of them, and always put it down to ‘this library’。
‘It’s so peaceful today, isn’t it?’ Lucy looked at them both, throwing her summer jacket on, and wandering towards the doors. ‘The perfect day for chilling out with a book,’ she winked at them. ‘I’ll see you next week!’
It was peaceful. Lucy and Aidan were both right about that. But, with peace, came boredom, and today was a real struggle.
‘Maybe,’ Thermos Flask said, turning to Aleisha as he reached the door, ‘you could look through the returns pile? You need to make sure you take out any scraps or bits of rubbish. Some of our regulars’ – What? All five of them, Aleisha thought to herself – ‘have complained about finding bits and pieces stuck in the pages. There are latex gloves in the drawer. I know Kyle usually enjoys this job, but it would be a huge help if you could get it done today.’
Of course goody-two-shoes Kyle loved the gross, super-diligent jobs. She thought about ignoring his instructions completely … but she looked around, surveying the room. Silent. There was a guy reading in the corner; a mum and her toddler in the children’s section, all getting on with their day. No one needed her. Her phone sat on the desk: no new messages. The old clock hanging above the door said one thirty. She still had hours and hours left and, with nothing to do, time would seemingly stand still. So, she pulled out the desk drawer, put on two latex gloves, all clingy on her skin, and got started.
After ten minutes, she’d already succeeded in forming two piles. Stuff to chuck: a few train tickets, old receipts and a torn ticket to see Stormzy dated 2017. Stuff to keep: one lonely chicken shop loyalty card – with just one stamp left to go. Poor Kyle would be gutted he’d missed out on this piece of treasure.
Just as she began to open a particularly disgusting copy of War and Peace, she spotted, out of the corner of her eye, an old man on the other side of the library’s glass doors. He was trying to push the doors open. When that failed, he tried waving his arms around.
Bloody hell, she thought to herself, there’s a push button right in front of you. Just when she thought she might be left alone for the rest of the day. She rolled her eyes and waited for him to work it out. With enough luck, he’d lose patience and wander off on his next errand.
But she was wrong. He persisted, fruitlessly. He stood there, reaching up, one hand on the small of his back, his neck as long as it could go, peering at every inch of the doors, searching for a clue. His eyes went from left to right – his head followed, just a moment behind.