Chapter Twenty-One
‘Ugh! I’ve got this awful party to go to tonight,’ I said to Akil, who works Saturdays.
He’s a year younger than Layla but somehow seems older, partly because he’s huge – six foot five and then some – and partly because he’s a colleague rather than the child of a friend (which constitutes the majority of other seventeen-year-olds I know).
His mum, Roberta, insisted he got a job at the library because, as she tells anyone who’ll listen, there’s all sorts of trouble brewing on their estate and she wants her good boy out earning honest money to put towards college rather than getting involved in gangs and drugs and knife crime.
To be fair, I can’t imagine anyone less likely to be railroaded into running County Lines than Akil.
He’s physically intimidating to look at, all rippling muscles and long limbs, towering over the library users and staff, but he’s quiet and placid as a lake on a summer’s day, the very definition of a gentle giant.
Consequently, my mothering instinct is strong whenever I come into his orbit.
His shift patterns rarely coincide with Malia’s, seeing as she keeps to school hours, but I’ve noticed the same reaction on the odd occasion we’re all in work together.
She and I both start fussing about, asking whether he’s hungry, whether he’s thirsty, how he’s getting on at school, doesn’t he look smart in that nice new jumper – and other assorted clichés.
And it’s nice to have someone of Layla’s generation to talk to.
He’s interested in hearing about her university course (either interested or too polite to ask me to shut up) so obviously I talk about her on a regular basis.
But today, I’m sharing my social function woes.
‘Layla, says I’ve just got to suck it up,’ I said to him once I’d finished swiping through the entire How to Train Your Dragon series for a little girl who had only got her library card an hour earlier.
‘She says that I keep telling her to push herself beyond her comfort zone and that the same applies to me – I need to set her a good example. Which I can’t really argue with.
But I’d much rather get a curry and sit in front of the telly texting her than try and make small talk all evening with people I barely know.
Sorry, I realise this isn’t your problem, Akil. I just need to vent.’
‘That’s okay, Mrs Harper,’ he said quietly. I have asked him repeatedly to call me Hattie, but I think Roberta has drilled it into him that he should respect his elders. And I was definitely an elder in this scenario.
‘The thing is,’ I started up again, noting that Akil’s massive shoulders slumped a fraction.
‘I’m not sure if it’s a little black dress kind of drinks party or something much more casual.
I don’t know if I should bring a Christmas present or just a bottle of wine, and how nice should the wine be?
It’s being hosted by someone Joe is trying to impress but I don’t want to spend a fortune on a bottle that might just end up on the central kitchen island with nobody noticing that it came from us.
In that scenario a gift is easier because at least you can attach a Christmas card as a reminder.
You can’t really do that with wine unless you put it in one of those plasticky Christmas bottle bags and even then you have to make sure it has a label otherwise what’s the point? ’
Akil was looking a little out of his depth. ‘I really don’t know Mrs Harper,’ he said pointing to the teetering pile of returns in desperation. ‘Do you want me to go and put some of these away?’
David was no help either regarding outfits, although he did recommend a good local wine shop, so I did what I should have done in the first place and texted Farah during my coffee break.
Within ten minutes she had replied with three outfit suggestions that she felt certain would be acceptable, most of which could be dressed up or down at a moment’s notice depending on the attire of the other guests.
You are an absolute legend. Fancy a cuppa tomorrow? Give me something to look forward to after this ghastly party xx
She replied with a thumbs-up and I continued attaching green and silver tinsel to the shelves of the science and nature stack.
Colin and I had pulled the boxes out of the stock cupboard yesterday but not had quite enough time to finish the job, hence Colin leaving me with very specific and detailed instructions about what had to go where today.
By lunchtime, the reception area had a garland of baubles draped along the main desk and a wreath of holly around the wall clock.
The huge windows had paper snowflakes taped to their glass so that the weak winter sun filtered through to leave pretty shadows on the library carpet, and the tall plastic tree in the corner near the main doors was bedecked with three sets of fairy lights (because I had to use them somewhere).
It now glowed so bright that it was inadvisable to view with the naked eye due to the possibility of retinal damage, much like a solar eclipse.
I’d also managed to erect a book tree above the young adult section, using a series of green hardbacks and DVDs with a large glittery star perched on top (courtesy of Akil and his long arms).
I took a couple of photos for the staff chat group and hoped Colin would be happy with what I’d achieved in his absence.
Then David suggested I get on with some proper work, which was fair enough.
After we’d closed for the day I had just enough time to pop into the surprisingly nice wine shop that David had recommended.
I managed to pick up a bottle of something suitably distinctive that thankfully came in a tasteful, yet sturdy, hessian bag with a cardboard label attached, perfect!
What it did mean, however, was that it was pitch black by the time I got to the multistorey.
Usually if I’m working a late shift I make sure I walk back to the car park with whoever I’ve been working with but my trip to the wine shop meant that David had already gone and Akil had caught his bus.
No matter, I thought, as I climbed the concrete stairs and tried to breathe through my mouth to avoid inhaling the aroma of the stairwell, which seemed to worsen as the weeks went on.
The overhead strip lighting flickered and buzzed in the way that it always does in television drama series just before someone is murdered, and I could hear the low tick-tick of tyres travelling across the tarmac of the lower floors and screeching a bit as the last vehicles exited the car park through the barriers.
When I heaved open the fire door on the fourth floor there were still a few cars parked there but most shoppers had already left and my footsteps echoed as I crossed what felt like the distance of a football pitch to get to my vehicle, walking with the self-conscious air of someone who feels they are being watched, even though the rational part of my brain knew I probably wasn’t.
I had almost reached my car when I heard a cough and I spun around, keys poised in one fist and artisan bag of wine ready in the other to clout any potential assailant over the head (#MiddleClassWeaponry).
‘Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry – I didn’t mean to frighten you,’ said the man approaching me.
I recognised the voice but his face was in shadow against the strip lighting and it took me a moment to regain control of my breathing.
‘It’s me,’ he said, ‘it’s Nathan. From the library.
I’m terribly sorry, Harriet, uhm, Mrs Harper, I really didn’t mean to scare you. ’
I exhaled in a rush. ‘Nathan,’ I said, smiling weakly. ‘Don’t worry, no problem.’
‘Oh god, I feel terrible,’ he said, looking down at his hands.
He was holding a book. ‘I just wanted to give you this.’ He held it out towards me.
‘I didn’t have a chance to get to the library today and couldn’t remember the date it was overdue, and I didn’t want to get a fine so when I saw you just now, I thought…
’ He trailed off. ‘I’m so sorry, Mrs Harper, it just seemed like a lucky coincidence, that’s all. ’
‘Nathan,’ I said. ‘Enough of the Mrs Harper. Akil’s been calling me that all day.
Makes me feel like a schoolteacher. It’s Hattie.
’ I held my hand out to accept the copy of The Nickel Boys.
‘And of course I’ll hand this in when I’m on shift on Monday morning.
I’m sure there won’t be any overdue charges, and if there are we’ll sort it, don’t worry.
’ I looked at him curiously. ‘Are you parked on this floor too?’ I looked around at the remaining cars.
‘Oh, no,’ he said. ‘I just saw you walking past and I thought…’ He gestured to the far corner of the building where I could just make out a pile of blankets and a scruffy little dog who looked suspiciously like Dot, sitting bolt upright as she eyed her master.
‘Are you sleeping here?’ I said, without thinking. I could have kicked myself because he looked mortified.
‘Not really, no,’ he said. ‘Nothing like that. I don’t live here or anything. It’s temporary. Just until I get myself sorted.’
I looked at the pile of blankets and boxes. Dot seemed to sense the scrutiny and gave a little querying bark as I glanced back at Nathan. ‘Are you sure?’ I said. ‘It looks as though you…’
‘It’s fine, Mrs Har… Hattie,’ he said backing away from me now. ‘I’m fine. And I’m sorry to have frightened you. You have a nice rest of your weekend and I’m glad I got the book back to you in time. That’s a weight off my mind.’
‘Well – thank you Nathan,’ I said, pausing as I opened the car door.
‘And are you sure there’s nothing you need?
’ I considered checking what spare cash I had in my purse but it seemed horribly crass to offer him money while the fact of his sleeping rough remained unacknowledged, and I didn’t know how to go about it without making both of us feel awkward.
‘No, all good thanks,’ he said in a patent untruth. ‘Off to meet some friends in a minute so I’ll let you get on.’
‘I’ve got a fleece blanket in the car,’ I said suddenly.
‘It’s just a cheap one, I picked it up in the discount bucket at a petrol station, bit staticky if I’m honest. I used it to keep my nephews warm when I was driving them to school last week and their hair kept standing on end every time I tucked them in but it’s warm and… ’
‘Oh, no, don’t worry, I don’t need…’
‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘I don’t need it now, the boys have gone back home and to be honest, you’ll be doing me a favour taking it off my hands, stop me getting static shocks every time I touch the blooming thing.
Here…’ I popped open the boot and bundled the blanket out. ‘Just take it,’ I said. ‘Please.’
He regarded the swathes of brightly coloured faux-velour for a moment. ‘Well,’ he said slowly. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘Absolutely.’ I thrust the blanket at him before he could change his mind. ‘It might be quite flammable. Stay away from naked flames.’
‘Will do.’
‘And Dot’s fur will probably puff out to twice her size if she rubs up against it.’
‘Well, she’ll be quite happy about that,’ he said. ‘I think she already believes she’s a much bigger dog than she is.’
We both laughed a little uncertainly.
‘Thanks for this.’ He gestured to the blanket.
‘No problem.’ I got into my car and wound the window down.
‘Will you be able to get to the library on Monday?’ I asked as I reversed slowly out of my space.
‘The delivery will probably arrive mid-morning. Hopefully that new Colson Whitehead will be in. I think you’ll like it. It’s had great reviews.’
He nodded. ‘Great, thank you. See you then.’ And he gave me a brief wave as he walked back to his little dog and accumulated belongings, as if this had been a perfectly normal exchange and we hadn’t both been politely dancing around the fact that he was very clearly homeless.