Aisle Lang vividly remembers her first day at work in Central Library all those years ago. I suppose you are wondering precisely how long ago that was, but instead I will tell you only that she was an eager young lady fresh out of college and a dedicated follower of the current fashions. Of short skirts, horn-rimmed specs and towering high beehives.

On that very first day Cedric Postlethwaite, an eccentric older man, had shown her the ropes. His small darting eyes peered nervously from behind enormous glasses and tufts of fluffy grey hair sat atop his head at jaunty little angles. He wore a creased grey shirt under a bobbly grey tank top and grey slacks with dark rubber soled shoes. Everything was grey and tired about Cedric. He was pleasant enough, but his beady leering eyes bothered Aisle. They lingered just a little too long on her than was professional. Cedric did teach her well though and by lunchtime had sufficiently covered all customer service duties with a view to tackling the laborious task of ‘book returns’ after lunch. Aisle had imagined herself many times striding purposefully around with her trolley full of books, efficient and professional-looking, answering queries as she went.

If there had been CCTV back then, Aisle would have been arrested for the stalking of dead poets and writers, as she had made frequent trips to the library to familiarise herself with the layout, just to give her the best possible start on her first day. Even Cedric had commented, how she seemed to know the place like the back of her hand. Aisle would stop at nothing when it came to her love of books, so as you can imagine, for her to be paid, to be surrounded by them all day long, was an absolute dream come true.

After lunch, Cedric beckoned her over to a heaving book trolley, explaining that he would put her to work then head over to the busy front desk, as after lunch was the busiest time in a librarian’s day. They headed off towards the world history section when suddenly, out of nowhere a police officer wearing bright yellow Marigold rubber gloves jumped out in front of them, scaring them both half to death. Another officer approached rapidly from behind wearing pink rubber gloves. The cornered librarians instinctively held their hands aloft while one of the officer’s yelled “Cedric Postlethwaite I am arresting you on suspicion of voyeurism, we have reason to believe you have been spying on ladies in the restroom, you have the right to remain silent”. Aisle was pushed aside while a handcuffed Cedric was jostled to the exit, his mouth opening and closing like a guppy fish.

“You dirty old dog Cedric,” whispered Aisle mischievously as she composed herself. Her thoughts quickly turned to the very recent opening of the role of ‘head librarian’ and how, if she made the right impression, this could be her big chance.

And with that, Aisle abandoned the groaning book trolley and flew over to the main desk. A queue of disgruntled customers had formed, snaking haphazardly around the entrance. The lone librarian looked flummoxed handling multiple patron requests and visibly sighed with relief as Aisle bounded towards her shouting assertively “help is here!” while reaching for her lucky blue pencil that she always kept poked in the side of her huge blonde beehive, for emergencies just like these.

By Laira-Marie G.

From: United Kingdom