A Week in Winter(94)
Miss Duffy was dealing with people who wanted to be Friends of the Library, and she was not dealing with them very well. She handed them the leaflet that Freda had prepared and had said there was a welcome for everyone at the Friends’ meeting, but she was vague when people asked what it was going to involve.
Some people with anxious faces asked would there be money involved, like an admission fee, or a collection. No, nothing like that, Miss Duffy said. But then she wondered. Had Freda suggested there might be a fundraising aspect?
A man asked would there be advice about what books they should read. Miss Duffy didn’t know. Two girls asked would there be an entrance test, or could anyone at all come? Miss Duffy said there was no test, but she knew she had frowned at the expression ‘anyone at all’.
A nervous young man arrived, saying he had written a lot of poems which had won prizes when he was at school, and wondered would there be a chance that he could give a reading. He was shy and awkward and kept looking as if Miss Duffy was going to order him off the premises for such a suggestion.
Miss Duffy was starting to feel it was all a bad idea.
‘Oh, there you are, Miss O’Donovan,’ she cried, even though Freda was over half an hour early.
Freda looked at her watch anxiously.
‘It’s just there were so many enquiries about this Friends business, it’s beginning to upset our routine.’
Freda’s face lit up. ‘I am sorry, Miss Duffy, but isn’t that great news! It means that people are interested.’ Freda had hung up her coat and was down to work at once.
Miss Duffy relented. It was hard not to be pleased with this attitude, and even though the silly girl was inviting more enquiries, more trouble and distraction on herself, she seemed perfectly happy to do the work associated with it.
‘Did you have a good weekend, Miss O’Donovan?’ she asked, to show that her irritation was not serious.
Freda looked up at her, surprised. She smiled and said that it had been very good but she was happy to be back here in Finn Road. It had been the right answer.
Miss Duffy didn’t want any details, only a sense of commitment.
Freda went through the list of enquiries: she telephoned the man who wondered would there be advice about what books to read and said yes, there would if people wanted it. She called the girls asking was there an entrance examination, and she said it was going to be a fun evening – they should bring all their friends. She invited the young poet, whose name was Lionel, to come in and see her.
She ignored the nagging feeling that something really important was about to happen.
The next meeting of the Friends of Finn Road Library will be on the history of this area, and admission is free. Please bring photos and stories. All are welcome!
They would be talking about the Friends evening for days. It had been such a success on so many levels despite the rain that night. Even Miss Duffy was enthusiastic.
They had all come: the young poet, Lionel, had read some beautiful poems about mute swans. He was elated at the response, even more so when Freda introduced him to her aunt Eva. The author of ‘Feathers’, no less!
Miss Duffy had been suspicious when around half a dozen young girls had turned up, but they had turned out to be full of suggestions for reading groups.
‘I must say, I was surprised that they held us in such esteem,’ she said the very next day. Lane and Freda had cleared the place up perfectly and had returned the chairs to the theatre. There was nothing that Miss Duffy could complain about, so instead she decided to be pleased, gratified even.
Freda had long ago decided that she would accept no credit for it all, even though she would have had to take all the blame if it had turned out badly.
‘It’s only what you deserve,’ Freda said, as if it had all been Miss Duffy’s idea. ‘You have been here for years building this place up; it’s only right they should honour you and say how much the library means to them.’
Miss Duffy accepted it all graciously as her due.
That was good: it left Freda time to get on with things. There was so much to organise in an ordinary working day. They would have to check the Issue, the list of items currently out on loan. Then there were the notes to borrowers of books that were overdue. They would go through the Issue looking for requested items and report on their status. Then today there was the Stock Selection meeting, where they all sat down with Miss Duffy to choose what new titles they could order. They would examine books sent to them as approval copies, and look at notes from the book magazines as well. There was little enough time to think about this Friends meeting, never mind organise the next one. It was curious that she felt so deflated. Whatever it was she had been so sure was going to happen just hadn’t materialised.
Miss Duffy was surprised to see the great bunch of very expensive flowers that had been delivered. The message was simple. I am already a Friend of the Library . . . Now I want to be a Friend of the Librarian. The evening had been a success, of course, but who would have sent these as a thank you? The only person that ever sent flowers to Miss Duffy was her sister, and she was more of a potted violet sort of person. So who could have sent her this bouquet? She admired the flowers once more. Miss O’Donovan might arrange them for her if they could find a big enough vase.
Freda, of course, found a vase. She went into the store room and brought out a huge glass jar. Those flowers must have cost a fortune. Who on earth would have sent them?