I hadn’t been in the library for years, but nothing had changed. The heavy door still kept the outside world out, and sealed the silence in. The boiled wool doormat was a little thinner than before, the returns counter a little more scuffed, but the thick lettering of the signs, ‘Issues’, ‘Reference’, ‘Quiet please’, remained.
When I walked in, I was met by a blast of warm air from the overhead heater, and I remembered sweating beneath such a blast when I’d asked Kathryn on our first night out. That she’d said yes had felt like a miracle back then.
There was the familiar smell of sweaty hands on old books, of unwashed men with beards and overcoats, dozing by the radiators beneath the windows. I didn’t see the man with the carrier bags, which surprised me.
And she was there, of course, my wife, Kathryn, behind the counter, on the phone. She didn’t see me come in, so I stood and watched her for a while. I wouldn’t say that I hid behind the shelf, but I was sure that she couldn’t see me where I stood, holding a book on Tractors and Other Farm Vehicles before me. I took a good look at her. She was wearing a green polo neck jumper, I hadn’t noticed that during the afternoon, and her hair, slightly grey in her fringe but otherwise still a good colour, looked odd because one side was tucked into the woollen roll around her neck. I wanted to go and straighten it for her, but I remained standing with the book open in front of me. She leant on the counter and laughed at something one of the borrowers said, and I watched the wave of hair that was tucked into her jumper bend back and forth as she moved.
I reflected that I hadn’t seen her behind the library counter for about fifteen years, and that now I had secret knowledge of her. Now I could watch her and know that she was wearing a slip with a rose pattern in black lace. Now I knew that it was thin and worn at her side, and that one strap was frayed on her shoulder. No one else in the library had that information. Secret information.
As I approached the counter, I found myself smiling. I kept one hand in my pocket, and I ran a finger over the gun of the model Somua tank that I’d taken from Robert’s bedroom.
‘Howard, what are you doing here?’
I kept smiling, feeling my teeth going dry in the hot air of the library.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Kathryn. ‘I was a bit worried about you when I left.’
‘Kathryn,’ I said. ‘I’m going to take that lock off Robert’s door.’
Kathryn glanced around the library. ‘Can we talk about this later on?’
Behind her, one of the librarians had stopped filling in whatever form she was apparently concentrating on.
Kathryn leant over the counter and touched my sleeve. ‘Why don’t we talk about this later?’
I was still smiling. ‘He’s my son and I’m going to remove that lock. I just came to tell you that. There’s nothing to discuss.’
Kathryn let go of my sleeve. ‘If you do that, I’ll replace it.’
‘I won’t have locks on doors in my house.’
A woman with a little girl in a bobble hat on her hip slapped a pile of picture books on the counter. ‘I’ll take these, please,’ she said, stepping close to my side. ‘When you’re ready.’
Kathryn opened the top book and picked up her stamp.
‘It’s coming off,’ I said. ‘There’s no discussion.’
The little girl in the bobble hat looked at me and laughed.
Kathryn thumped her stamp onto the white page. ‘Due back on the thirtieth,’ she said to the woman, sliding the books back over the counter. The woman put them in the bottom of her pram; her little girl waved at me as they walked away.
‘Children should not be allowed to have locks on doors.’ In my coat pocket, I grasped the long point of the tank’s gun.
‘I think you should go now.’ Kathryn’s voice was steady but low.
‘It shouldn’t be allowed. I didn’t have a lock.’
Kathryn slammed the stamp down on the counter. ‘Sometimes I wish I had a lock,’ she said, sticking out her chin, ‘I wish I had a lock. Did you know that, Howard?’
The librarian behind her pretended to sift through a pile of forms, but her head was cocked in our direction.
‘Did I ever tell you that? Did I ever tell you that, when we were first married, it drove me absolutely – ’ she paused and bit her lip, ‘spare, it drove me absolutely spare, the way you watched me all the time, the way I couldn’t move without you flinching, without you asking if I was all right, if I needed anything, asking what was I doing, asking where was I going. All the time, asking questions, checking up on me, all the bloody time! It was a relief when Robert was born because at least then you had someone else to keep your beady eye on.’
We stood for a moment, staring at each other. The librarian behind Kathryn had stopped shuffling her papers and was perfectly still.
I let go of the tank’s gun and buttoned up my coat. The last hole was so stiff that my fingers slipped as I tried to grip the button and force it through. ‘I’m taking the lock off Robert’s door. As I said, there’s no discussion.’
Kathryn blew up into her fringe. ‘Each time you take that lock off, I will replace it.’
‘There’s no discussion, Kathryn.’ I turned to go.
‘Howard?’
I looked back.
She gave a little laugh. ‘Everyone calls him Rob now.’