“Inspector Parks came into the takeaway to tell me,” Alex said. “They’re going to do a postmortem, but they don’t think it was anything suspicious.”
June shivered and pulled her dressing gown around her shoulders. “I should have seen that he was unwell. I should have been a better friend.”
“There’s nothing you could have done.”
“That’s not true.” She looked at Alex. “I knew he was living alone in that trailer, Alex. I found out after the library occupation,but I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I did nothing about it. Perhaps if I’d contacted social services or—”
“June, stop,” Alex interrupted. “You can’t beat yourself up about that. I knew about his living arrangements too.”
“You did?”
June watched him squirm in his seat. “I’ve known for a while, but Stanley made me promise not to tell anyone.”
“I don’t understand. How did you know?” June asked, but Alex was lost in thought and didn’t reply.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
“We let him down,” June said. “He should never have been living like that.”
“I think he was happy there. And the library was like his second home.”
Tears started to spill down June’s cheeks. “I have to save the library. Stanley devoted everything to fighting for it. I can’t let him down again.”
Alex reached across the table, resting his hand on top of hers. June felt a flush of warmth and let it stay there for a moment, safe and comforting. Then she remembered his panicked getaway last night and pulled away.
“It’s late; you should get some rest.” As Alex stood up, his chair let out a loud scraping noise on the floor, and June winced.
“Thanks for coming round to tell me in person. I appreciate it.” She knew she should show him out, but she didn’t have the energy.
Alex stopped when he got to the kitchen door. “I almost forgot.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a book, then came back and placed it on the table. June saw it wasThe House at Pooh Corner. “Parks gave me this. He said they found it by Stanley’s bed. It belongs to the library.”
•••
The following morning, June left the house at ten. There was only one place she wanted to be today, even if it was the one place she wasn’t allowed to be.
As she walked toward the library, its old clock tower rising above the Parade, June felt a wave of emotion crashing over her. She remembered approaching the building as a child, holding her mum’s hand and feeling such anticipation about what wonderful stories and adventures she’d find inside. She remembered all those days she’d walked this route to work, when the library had been a comfort, a form of security. But today, all she felt was an overwhelming sadness. Never again would she unlock that front door and find Stanley waiting for her, smiling and talking about the weather. Never again would she be able to chat to him as she shelved returns or help him with the crossword.
Chantal was the first person to spot June as she walked into the library. “Have you heard?” she asked, her eyes red. “Stanley was in here on Thursday, talking about FOCL and the campaign. He was sitting just there...”
June followed Chantal’s gaze over to the chair where Stanley always sat. This morning it was empty, although someone had placed a neatly folded copy of theTelegraphon the seat.
“I heard they found him in some trailer on the edge of the village, no heating or electricity. Can you believe it?”
“He was very private,” June said carefully.
“He was like a grandpa to me,” Chantal said, her eyes glistening.
June heard a familiar voice to her left, and she turned to see Marjorie emerging from her office. June braced herself for the onslaught, but when Marjorie looked up she gave a strained smile.
“I heard about Stanley—” June started.
“Of course, it’s only right you should be here,” Marjorie said.
“How did your daughter’s wedding go?” Chantal said.
Marjorie’s jaw tightened. “It was lovely, thank you.”
“I’ve finished this and it’s a disgrace. Why anyone reads this shit I do not know.”