The Reading List(7)

She pulled her earphones out, walked over to the entrance, and pressed the button to open the doors. She watched as they slid apart. ‘Aha!’ the man said, from the other side, delighted with himself.

‘I just pressed the button. There’s a button outside too.’

‘Oh, thank you, miss.’ He nodded his head.

Aleisha wandered back to the desk, plugged her headphones in again, latex gloves at the ready.

But when she looked up once more, the old man was standing exactly where she had left him. On the wrong side of the doors, which had now closed automatically behind her. She rolled her eyes, and resolved, this time, not to help him.

‘Excuse me, miss!’ He was now knocking on the door with one hand, frantically feeling around with the other, looking for the button he’d missed. She didn’t get paid enough for this.

After thirty seconds of him fumbling and knocking on the door, the mum decided to take her toddler home, letting the old man in on her way out. He didn’t miss his chance this time and hopped straight in, walking right up to Aleisha at the desk. She fixed her eyes on her scrap-paper pile, pretending to concentrate, hoping he’d realize she was busy and leave her alone.

Even through her music, she could hear his repeated, ‘Excuse me, miss.’ Then he started tapping on her desk. When his finger began to worm its way over to the bell, she looked him straight in the eyes.

‘What can I help you with, sir?’ she smiled, sweetly, using her polite ‘look at me I’m a librarian’ voice.

‘I am wanting to return …’ and after a moment of silence, his face blanched. ‘No, sorry, actually,’ he shook his head vigorously, ‘I said I am looking for some books.’ She noticed him clutching a little canvas bag tightly to his side, as though clinging on for dear life.

‘You’re in the right place,’ she smirked.

‘No, miss, I need your help. Please do help me.’

She sighed. ‘What do you need help with?’

‘I …’ his voice quivered, almost inaudibly. His cheeks had adopted a faint pink glow, and she could see his ears turning a fluorescent red. ‘I’m not sure … what … books, can I get some stories?’

‘You can use the self-service machines for that.’ She pointed to the computer desks.

He looked at the computers, and down at his hands. ‘I don’t think I will know how to use them,’ he said.

‘Do you know what books you’re looking for?’ she sighed, turning to her screen, minimizing Instagram, briefly glimpsing the new photo her ex Rahul had posted, and opening up the correct database.

‘No, that’s where I need some help too.’

She was trying so hard not to lose her patience.

‘I’m afraid I can’t help you if you don’t know what books you want. I’ve just got a search engine.’

‘But don’t you have knowledge of books? Librarians know what people want to read. I know the sort of thing. I want books to read that I will enjoy. Maybe even something I could share with my granddaughter too … Like, something classic, maybe? Novels, I think. I have read The Time Traveler’s Wife.’ His hand flew to his bag and he clasped it tightly. ‘Yes, I really liked that one. It helped me a lot, that book did.’

‘Never heard of it. I’m really sorry, but I’m better with non-fiction, books for school and things. Things that teach me stuff. I don’t read novels.’

The man looked horrified, his jaw dropped. ‘You should know novels. It is your job. Can you point me in any direction? Any direction at all?’

‘No, I think you might need to use Google or something.’

‘I—’

She stood up from her chair, an aching throb in her temples. She thought back to last night – to her mum, shut in her room, her brother pacing the hallway outside, listening out, checking in on her. Worry written on his face. Aleisha’s eyes felt sore, tired, her head heavy. ‘Please, sir,’ she snapped through gritted teeth. ‘Do feel free to browse the shelves if you want to find something to read. The novels are over there.’ She waved her arm in the general direction.

And with that, she sat down and watched as the man made his way over to the shelves, slowly but surely. He glanced back at her a few times, his brow furrowed. She glared at her screen, determined to ignore him. She could feel something that might have been guilt start to bubble up in her throat, making her cough. What had come over her? She plugged her headphones in, shoving them firmly into her ears.

She pulled one latex glove further up her arm, feeling it pull the tiny hairs on her skin. She was ready to forget the last few minutes, when someone else accosted her. It was one of the five library regulars: The Crime Thriller guy. He was almost always found in the Crime Thriller section, sitting at the tables overlooking the park. It was sheltered a little from the rest of the library. Tucked away, quiet. Sometimes, when the library closed, Aleisha liked to sit there herself, looking out. Just for a minute or two. Just for a tiny bit of a break before she went home. A moment to brace herself.

‘What?’ she snapped. She knew she was being rude but didn’t have the energy to care.

‘Hey, sorry,’ he said, mumbling. His hair was long – too long for an adult man, in her opinion – and it covered a lot of his face. He liked bright T-shirts but almost always wore a thick black hoodie over them. Just looking at him, in this sweaty summer weather, made her wilt. ‘I just wanted to return this book.’ He held up a copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.