Page 44 of Home This Christmas

THIRTY-NINE

‘Just letting you know that the council have told me there will be change to their decision. It seems only the person submitting the planning has the right to appeal, which I suspected was the case.’ She sighs.

So the protest had no effect at all…

I picture Will Sutton celebrating his victory, although maybe he already knew we were fighting a losing battle.

‘So will the closure be imminent?’ I ask.

‘The end of January,’ she tells me. ‘Which will at least give people the chance to get their heads around it. I am sure there will be a huge book sale too. If there is, I will encourage people to buy them. I can store some here until we find a suitable site to set up our own community library,’ she says positively.

‘But that’s a wonderful idea! A community library.’

‘More of a book recycle centre, to be more accurate. I have seen this work in other places. It is pretty much a book swap, which means we will not often provide brand new books, but it is better than nothing. And I guess we could fundraise to purchase new books.’

‘Oh Marilyn, that all sounds wonderful,’ I say, admiring her positivity.

‘I think it could work. And if we can find big enough premises, perhaps the social groups could continue too,’ she adds. ‘It will take a lot of hard work, but doesn’t everything that is worth doing?’

‘Of course it does,’ I agree. ‘And I am pretty sure everyone in the village would get behind it,’ I assure her.

‘I think so too. As soon is Christmas is over, I shall be calling a meeting at the village hall. And then the search for a suitable venue will start. Maybe charging a small amount for the books could cover a modest rent somewhere. We can only hope, but I have faith that the good Lord will provide,’ she says optimistically.

‘I am sure that’s true,’ I say, just as an idea suddenly pops into my head.

I finish a few chores, then call Mum but the call goes straight to voicemail.

She is probably busy working, or preparing for Christmas, and she did tell me that she would give me a call this evening, though.

I wonder how they spend Christmas in Kenya, and if Mum will miss any of the English traditions.

I can hardly believe it is Christmas Eve tomorrow. Or that I am spending Christmas here in Brindleford with Nathan, the person I was so keen to avoid. The thought of sitting around the dinner table with Nathan and his family on Christmas Day fills me with a warm glow.

I had offered to help with lunch, but Nathan wouldn’t hear of it. Apparently, his dad is also a good cook, so he told me that between them, they have it covered.

‘So you can put your feet up,’ he had told me, the morning after he had stayed over, and we were discussing Christmas plans.

I had offered to do the washing up, but he shook his head, telling me that he has a dishwasher that the boys would be loading on the day.

‘So you see,’ he had told me as we finished our drinks in bed that morning and he placed my cup down and took me in his arms, ‘you can simply relax and enjoy the day.’

I bring myself back to the present by sitting on an armchair peering out of the lounge window. The ground is still covered in snow, and I spot a robin sitting on the fence. I wonder if it is the same one that appeared on the window ledge in the kitchen.

An hour later, after having a FaceTime call with Coleen and filling her on events here, I video call Mum once more, and she picks up.

‘Hi, Ruby, I was going to call you when I’m free, sorry it’s later than I planned – I’ve been on vegetable peeling duty.’

‘No problem, I am glad to hear your voice. Is everything okay?’

‘Oh yes, fine. All okay with you?’ Mum asks.

‘Yes thanks, although it looks like the library is to close in early January.’

‘That is simply awful. I have so many happy memories taking you there as a child.’ She smiles.

‘Oh I know, me too. It’s a shame but Marilyn is determined to find other premises and set up a community book cycle.’

‘That sounds like Marilyn,’ Mum says, smiling.

‘She asks about you a lot,’ I tell Mum, who says to say ‘hi’ to her next time I see her.

We chat for a while longer, with a promise to have a quick chat on Christmas Day.

Shortly afterwards, there is a knock at the door and Nathan is on the doorstep.

‘If you are not coming for the games evening, at least let us have dinner together.’ He brandishes a brown paper bag. ‘I haven’t eaten all day, it’s been so busy. I’m starved.’

‘That’s a nice idea; what do you have?’

‘Chicken, ham and leek pie,’ he says, lifting it from the bag. ‘Some greens, and mash too. Ready-made but from a luxury brand.’

A short while later, as we sit eating our food, I tell him all about the library decision.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he says as he tucks into his food. ‘Although I had a feeling that the protest wouldn’t change things.’

‘You did?’ I say as I devour the delicious pie.

‘I’m afraid so.’ He nods. ‘But it was nice to witness the solidarity of the villagers.’

‘I agree. Marilyn is organising a meeting after Christmas. She is hoping to find a permanent home for a community library, although rental costs might mean that is out of the question.’

‘Hmm, I can see that being an issue. But I am sure something will turn up.’

‘I do hope so.’

When he finally leaves, I am suddenly overcome with tiredness. I was awake early this morning, and even the smallest tasks leave me tired dragging this cast along with me.

I get myself ready for bed and finally settle down to watch a Christmas movie.

I think about Nathan, and his comment about how all the villagers stand united when facing a problem. And it feels rather nice to be a small part of that.