She was there, again, long legs and arms draped around a radiator in the reading room of the city library. With her long dark coat she looked like a spider curled up in the corner of the room. I had seen her there a few times, always at the same time of day – late afternoon. Now, it was early December. Outside, it seemed the Xmas lights were diamonds, hanging and dancing between the trees. Inside the library it was warm and dry and there was a strong smell of polish.
I had taken to going to the library most days as I wanted to look at travel guides, because I hoped to go away in January – on my own, for the first time!
‘Oh no it’s you again,’ said the spider, uncurling towards me. ‘You know it’s rude to stare.’ I started to apologise, when there was a disgruntled cough and an exaggerated twitch of a newspaper from someone at the end of the large table.
‘Here we go again, it’s Elsie,’ continued the spider. ‘Better keep your voice down or she will start stamping her feet.’ She uncurled some more. ‘Come on girl spit it out!’
‘I feel as if I know you.’
‘Feel! Feel! What does that mean? You either know me or you don’t and I assure you, I don’t know you.’
I was increasingly aware of the heat in the room, blasting out from old radiators, aware too of layers of other smells – damp clothes, dusty books, plimsoles, chalk….the aroma of a school building. I was taken back to that time at school in Harlech when I was forced to read in assembly. I had pushed the event to the back of my mind. I had not read well and one of the teachers sought to discredit me. She did this in front of all my friends in the 6th form who, in turn, supported me. I had tried my best that day. I had even practised standing on the kitchen table and reading aloud a useless part of the Bible.
I felt slightly nauseous. The woman draped over the old creaking radiator was that teacher.
‘You taught English didn’t you, in Harlech?’
There was a silence. I looked at her, saw the lines on her face – saw something that resembled grief and faint recognition.
‘What is your name?’ she whispered.
Her face fell and became grey as I told her. Abruptly she rose from the chair.
‘You are annoying me!’ She turned and scuttled the length of the room, her black coat flapping as she vanished through the double doors.
I felt different somehow. She had humiliated me about 60 years ago, and I still felt hurt….although I realised I did not have to carry that baggage any more. Now, I was lighter. I had the confidence to book a ticket to …….Rome? Barcelona?……Paris?
In fact I could go anywhere, I had read enough about them in library books.
