Page 37

Chapter 37

Early May 1931

The library was busy.

It wasn’t that people were returning books or borrowing new ones, nor even standing browsing the shelves, but almost every seat at the long tables was taken.

The newspaper section was filled with men turning the pages slowly, working their way from the front covers to the back, reading every word and every advertisement.

Ann initially thought they were looking for the job vacancies, but as she watched from her position at the reference table, with the Guide to British Lichens in front of her, she saw that they were prolonging their visits, delaying going back outside into the street and staying in where they could be distracted from life by the books and the newspapers.

The hidden functions of a library are manifold, she realised.

She knew for sure that Keith Anderson would be visiting number 25 today.

Isobel had started making bread as soon as breakfast was over, and she was making enough dough for three loaves instead of the usual two.

And extra soup, and oaty biscuits as well.

‘I’ll be out all day,’ Ann had said as she left the house.

Isobel had just smiled.

‘I’ll see you this evening, then.

’

*

He arrived at the library just before lunchtime, about the same time she realised her bottom had gone numb from sitting on a hard wooden chair for more than an hour.

She moved carefully to a recently vacated seat in the corner so she wouldn’t be seen.

He selected a newspaper and took a seat a few rows ahead with his back to her.

She could see that he read differently from the other men.

He turned to the news first, and he had a little book beside him in which he wrote notes.

After fifteen minutes or so he went back to the long rods which held the newspapers and exchanged The Scotsman for another broadsheet, then sat down again and worked his way through the news, taking his time and pausing to look off into the distance every so often before returning to the page and writing in his book.

Ann wriggled. She needed to go to the lavatory, but the facilities were near the entrance and she would have to walk past him to get to them.

Just as she thought that she couldn’t wait any longer, he got to his feet and put the final newspaper back in the rack and started looking at the shelves.

Non-fiction, she observed.

She seized her chance and headed for the WC.

When she looked back before closing the door, he was at the table again, and engrossed in his reading.

She didn’t like the feeling this gave her.

*

The storm door at the front of the house hadn’t yet been closed for the day when Ann walked into the hall.

‘Hello!’ she called.

There was no response.

She hung her coat up and lifted the latest Lord Peter Wimsey novel from her basket.

Between the hours she had spent at the library in the morning and the time in the café in the afternoon, she was halfway through it.

She wore her stubbornness as though it were a lead dress.

‘Did he come, then?’ she said as she walked into the kitchen.

Isobel and Keith were sitting opposite each other at the table.

A jigsaw was spread out in the space between them; the edges were complete, and some of the foreground.

They both looked up at the same time.

‘I didn’t hear you come in,’ said Isobel.

He stood up. More evidence of his good manners, thought Ann.

‘Good evening. I’m afraid I’m taking advantage of your friend’s hospitality.

We started this and it’s rather addictive.

Just one more piece, you know?

’

‘A bit like knitting a sock,’ said Isobel.

‘One more row. And then another one.’

Ann felt like an intruder in her own house as the two of them laughed, sharing the moment.

‘Did he come, then?’ she repeated.

‘The plumber about the problem with the hot water?’ She threw the conversational curve ball to Isobel, who caught it, considered dropping it, and then decided to throw it back.

‘No, not today. Are you sure it was this morning he was supposed to come?’

‘That was what he promised. Perhaps the spare parts haven’t arrived or something.

’ She paused. ‘I do agree about jigsaws, Mr Anderson, they are very addictive.’

Isobel stood up.

‘You have a go. I can’t see any more pieces that will fit; I think I’m too close to it.

’ She went to the scullery to wash her hands.

‘You know, this water seems alright now,’ she called, with a hint of mischief in her voice as she ran the tap.

‘Perhaps the system has fixed itself.’

‘Let’s hope so, I could do without another bill.

’ Ann sat down and studied their progress.

She picked up a piece of sky and slotted it into place.

He was still on his feet.

‘I think it’s time I went.

I’ll not disturb your meal.

’ He picked up his cap from the back of the chair.

‘Thank you for the bread, Isobel, and the soup.’ He looked at Ann.

‘And please, call me Keith, Miss Black.’

Ann saw that there was a paper bag with a fresh loaf poking out of the open end on the dresser, and beside it sat a large glass jar of what appeared to be Scotch broth.

She gave in. ‘What’s for dinner, Isobel?

’

‘Macaroni cheese, with crispy breadcrumbs on top and roasted red cabbage with walnuts,’ replied Isobel.

‘It’s almost done.’

‘Enough for three?’

‘I would think so.’

Ann pointed at the chair he had just vacated.

‘You may as well sit back down then, Keith.’ She tried out the sound of his name.

‘Dinner is almost ready.’

‘Thank you.’ He was clearly uncomfortable.

‘But only if you are both sure; I don’t want to impose.

’

‘We are sure, aren’t we, Isobel?

We quite often make extra, just in case.

You never know who might call by at dinnertime.

’ She looked down at the jigsaw.

‘We might need to move this along a bit to make room for us to eat, though.’

They managed to shuffle the puzzle along by taking a side each and moving it an inch at a time along the well-worn wooden table.

‘There are plates in the cupboard behind you,’ said Ann, ‘and cutlery in the drawer below that. And if you don’t mind, there’s a thick mat on your left, to put the hot food on.

’

Isobel opened the oven, and the smell of melted cheese oozed across the kitchen.

She lifted the round enamel dish out carefully.

It was a bigger one than they normally used for the two of them; Isobel had obviously been scheming this all day.

Ann had wondered about it before, and now she was sure of it.

When they were all seated, Ann put the serving spoon into the hot pasta and pushed it round so it was pointing at Keith.

‘After you. Guests first.’ She watched him eye up a quarter of what was in the dish and serve himself, taking care not to appear greedy.

She was sure he would finish the final quarter at the end.

He had a look of hunger about him, that was for sure.