On The Shelf

Dianne carefully loads up the old, wooden trolley with the returned books. The wheels wobble, giving out a quiet, rhythmic squeak as she trundles her way to the far corner of the library. Today will be the last time she makes this short journey to the ‘Travel Section’. Before her husband Joe became ill, Dianne had spent many of her lunch hours in this area, amongst the guidebooks and atlases, planning and dreaming about the amazing trips they would make after her retirement.

With regret she picks up the books, one by one, and just like her dreams, pushes them back into place.

‘Asia’; shelved. ‘America’; shelved. ‘Africa’; shelved.

After the task is completed, Dianne heads back towards the brightly lit reception area, where colourful cards and an over-decorated cake wait for her attention. Somebody, probably Amanda, has turned the music on; just a little too loud for Dianne’s liking. She recognises the song ‘Freedom’.

Dianne takes a deep breath and has a last glance around the building, then decides to take a short detour along one of the rarely used aisles. She notices that one of the books has fallen off its stand and smiles as she pops it back up. ‘Someone must be sending me a message,’ she mouths to herself.

The book is titled, ‘Home. Make the most of it’.

“Three hurrahs for Dianne,” Judy shouts out. The three colleagues cheer so loudly, a passerby would think there was a huge crowd gathered in the building. Two representatives from the local council cheer a little more reservedly, but nod enthusiastically.

Judy gains everyone’s attention and gives a speech, thanking Dianne for all the hard work and dedication she has put in over the past thirty-five years. She highlights that, without Dianne’s dedication, it would have been impossible to make the transition from

an authority-owned library to one that will, from Monday, be managed by the three volunteers: the launch of Whitborn Community Library.

Dianne runs her hands through her hair and says, “Thank you Judy, and a massive thank you to the three of you. I am sure you will do a tremendous job here. I wish you all the best of luck with this exciting new project and hope I have shown you everything you need to know. I remember my first day here, thirty-five years ago. I was so nervous. There was a Mr Green, the Head Librarian. He was always watching me, floating around, eyes burning into my back. I was afraid to go down the Science Fiction aisle, as I was sure he’d be teleported there before me.”

Everyone laughs, then listens to a few more of the many tales Dianne had accumulated over the years.

“Finally, I just want to say a huge thank you for all the lovely flowers and the yummy cake. Of course, I was presuming you would buy me a book token.” Dianne pauses to allow a little more laughter. “I hope you will thoroughly enjoy being volunteers and can keep this place open for many years to come. And…I have a parting gift for the library.”

Dianne bends down, theatrically picks up a small parcel and passes it across to Judy.

“Shall I open it?” Judy asks.

Dianne raises her eyebrows and watches Judy carefully tear off the blue wrapping paper.

No one is surprised to see that it is a book.

Ceremoniously, Judy holds it up for everyone to see; ‘Short and Sweet and Sour’, by Joe Hollins.

“What?” exclaims Clare. “This is by your Joe? I had no idea you were married to an author. We’ll have to find a special shelf for this one. Thank you. And please thank Joe too.”

The four women gather for a group hug.

“Time for a glass of wine,” announces Amanda, who is the first to break away.

The over-filled glasses are clinked together as the councillors make their excuses, vigorously shake Dianne’s hand and smartly head for the exit.

Amanda moves next to Dianne and enquires how Joe is doing.

“He’s okay. The doctor saw him again last week and said that all was going well. He just needs to go for regular blood checks and some sort of boosters. But do you know what Amanda? The really sad thing is that we won’t be able to travel too far anymore. We had so many plans.”

“Yes, that’s a real shame for you both. But he’s certainly healthy enough to write. You’ve kept that under cover,” says Amanda.

“Actually,” says Dianne, “he’s been writing for a few years now. Mainly short stories. Some so short that they don’t even take up a full page. He’s also had a couple published in magazines and is ridiculously proud of that. Anyway, a few months back, I transferred all his pieces into one big file. They were all over the place. I really couldn’t believe how many he’d written. I said to him, ‘You’ve got enough for a book’. We both looked at each other. And it went from there.”

“Wow, that’s a great story in itself,” Amanda responds. “He could write about that!”

By now, everyone is listening to their conversation.

“So,” Dianne continues, “I put the different scripts into some sort of order, drew up a contents page and got Joe to write an intro. We were delighted with the result. Joe then suggested the title, as many stories are sweet, some are sour and they’re all short. A few weeks back, we drove over to Newcastle and had a meeting with a publisher. Anyway, to cut this long story short, they designed a front cover, proofread the script and ‘Hey Presto’. It wasn’t cheap and, sorry ladies, it’s not for sale. We only had twenty copies printed, so this is a rare, collector’s item.” Again, everyone laughs at Dianne’s words. “The daft thing is, we only had two copies left after giving them to the relatives. Joe was very proud when I suggested we give one of those to the community library. I think it has always been his dream to see his book sitting alongside famous authors’ publications. But now he’s probably scared he’ll be left on the shelf.”

Judy laughs and shouts out, “It’s me who’s afraid of being left on the shelf.” All four ladies howl with laughter.

Amanda tops up the glasses as Clare starts to cut the cake. The leaving party is in full swing.

A few minutes later, Judy gently taps Dianne’s arm with the edge of a book.

“Have you seen this one?” she asks.

“Sure have. Many times. Section 708! I’ve often borrowed it,” Dianne replies. She puts her wine glass down on the counter, takes hold of the book and flicks through the pages; ‘Europe’s Most Amazing Libraries’.

“If your Joe is so delighted to have his book on a shelf in our little library, how do you think he would feel if you could get a copy in one of the libraries that feature in here?” asks Amanda.

Dianne looks straight into her eyes.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“Of course I am,” replies Amanda. “You bet I am.”

To help pass the time, Dianne takes out her phone, presses the photograph icon and starts to browse through the pictures she has taken over the last couple of days. The Eiffel Tower looks a little less spectacular on her screen than it had in real life and the poor old Notre Dame looks to be on the mend. However, Dianne’s star photo is the proof she needs. The first one she will show Joe.

In Paris.

After a restless first night in a small, but clean hotel, she got out early in the morning to walk to the Sainte-Geneviève Library. When she got there it was already busy. This was good news, as she feared that the library would be empty and the security guards would be watching her every move. Dianne didn’t quite blend in with the crowd; she was very aware that the tables were mainly occupied by young students. Dianne wandered around, trying to appear casual, looking for the ideal location to plant Joe’s book.

Eventually, at the Foreign Language section, she found books written in English. She had to resist the temptation to tidy them up a little, when she noticed that a couple were alphabetically misplaced. As swiftly as possible she pulled the book out of her bag and pushed it between two copies of Wuthering Heights. Quickly, she stepped back, took a photograph and dashed to the exit.

At the main entrance Dianne stopped in front of the large, glass doors, got her breath back and then took a selfie.

It was this exact same spot, in 1982, where Joe had pulled her into the doorway to shelter from the pouring rain. Then they had nervously gone in to wait for the rain to ease. This experience, of being inside such a beautiful library, started a life-long focus on travelling to new places to visit the best libraries in Europe. Since that day, their holidays have taken them to the Strahov Library in Prague, Admont Abbey Library in Austria and the most impressive, the Abbey Library of St Gall, in Switzerland.

Joe was relieved when Dianne safely returned home from her solo trip to Paris. He really appreciated what she had done for him and certainly planned to get that photograph, of his book on the Parisian shelf, printed and framed. As she was telling him about how much everything had changed since 1982, Joe stopped her.

“You do realise that we have given every copy away now. We don’t have one of our own anymore,” Joe said, with a big smile on his face.

Of course Dianne knew that, but she had an answer ready.

“Don’t worry,” says Dianne, “I know exactly where we can find a copy.”

Next Day.

Amanda is very surprised to see Dianne at the library counter. She lifts up the hatch and leans over to give her a hug.

“Can’t you keep away? You can have your job back if you like, but you won’t get paid for it,” Amanda jokes.

“Funny you should say that. I have been thinking about volunteering. I’m going to give Judy a call later to see what she thinks,” Dianne replies.

“I know what she’ll think,” says Amanda. “She’ll have you back, before you can say Jack Robinson.”

“It looks like you’re doing a superb job. But actually, I’ve come for a favour,” continues Dianne. “It might sound cheeky, but could we have Joe’s book back please?”

Amanda laughs and slowly shakes her head.

“I’m sorry Dianne, but it’s out on loan and, just a minute, let me check. Yes, Mr Thomson and then Beth from the café have their names down for it. It’s proving very popular, since we highlighted that it was written by a local author.”

“Really? That’s amazing. Joe will be so thrilled when I tell him.”

“We were planning to get in touch with Joe. Do you think he’d be willing to do a small talk about his writing? Even read a couple of stories out?” Amanda asks. “We’re organising a literary festival week, with all the big wigs and the press.”

“My goodness, I am sure he would. He’ll be the proudest man in Whitborn.”

“And,” suggests Amanda, “I think he should get the publisher to print off a few more copies. I’m convinced he has a best seller on his hands; they’ll be flying off the shelf.”

Dianne’s face lights up at the idea of leaving many more copies of Joe’s book on the shelves of ‘Europe’s Most Amazing Libraries’.