Broken Places Read Online Free Page B

annoyance. ‘What Harriet fails to understand is that there’s only a thin line between so-called normal people and those who end up sectioned, or in prison, or on crack-cocaine or whatever. All it needs is enough bad luck, or some unhappy twist of fate. Just because she’s been cushioned all her life, she—’
    ‘We’ve no evidence for that, Eric. She never gives a thing away. And, actually, I suspect it’s more a fear thing. People with mental-health problems probably make her feel vulnerable or threatened.’
    ‘I’m sorry, that won’t wash. It’s her job to do away with stigma, not contribute to it.’
    ‘She’s not likely to change, at her age. Anyway, just bear in mind she’s been complaining to Trevor – she told me so herself.’
    ‘Well, she would do, wouldn’t she? As the boss, he’s bound to back her up.’ Thank God, he thought, he was no longer a manager. He’d detested the whole headache of financial planning, cost-benefit analysis, performance indicators, health and safety issues, dictates from the council – all that endless stuff that kept him away from actual books and readers. And, as for sorting out spats between staff, it invariably left him both guilty and embarrassed . OK, he’d had to accept demotion and a cut in salary, but being free to do the work he wanted was well worth the disadvantages.
    ‘The trouble with Harriet’ – he lowered his voice to a whisper, although, in fact, they had the staffroom to themselves – ‘is that she’s so set in her ways, she opposes any innovation, on principle. Everything’s been a threat to her – videos, DVDs, computers, Baby Rhyme-Time, whatever – and you can bet your bottom dollar she’ll be agin the next thing, regardless of what it is. And, anyway, she’s so close to retirement, I suspect she simply wants an easy life. She’d probably prefer it we didn’t open the doors at all – kept the books in and the public out!’
    ‘She does have a point, though, about use of council funds.’
    ‘The soup’s sponsored – I told her. Waitrose foot the bill. And if she has any more complaints about the shopping or the washing-up, it’s me that does both those, as she damned well knows, in fact.’
    ‘It’s not the soup as such. She says you’re using up resources on lame ducks, who do little for the issue figures, when you should be—’
    ‘Stella, I don’t need Harriet to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be doing. And they’re not lame ducks. We’re attracting people we’ve never reached before.’
    ‘That’s the trouble, though, as far as she’s concerned. She says we’re meant to be librarians, not social workers or psychiatrists.’
    ‘The two things go together – reading as therapy. Hell, she must know that by now – with all those “Books on Prescription” schemes and a load of other groups nationally. One of my little lot has actually decided to come off Prozac, and just because of the sessions. And she called them “a shaft of light in a dark cavern”, which I thought was rather poetic.’
    Stella dunked a biscuit into her tea. ‘Eric, I’m on your side – you know that. But let’s forget libraries for a sec. We need to talk about the dating thing.’
    He hid his face in his hands. ‘Haven’t time,’ he groaned.
    ‘How about a quick drink after work, then? Are you free this evening?’
    ‘Yes, unfortunately. No queue of leggy blondes fighting for the privilege of taking me to bed!’
    ‘Well, all the more reason to put that right. See you in the Dog and Duck at six, OK?’
    ‘OK, and thanks a million for doing the soup. Just heat it in the microwave, in batches, and bring it in at quarter to one.’
    As he left, he glanced back at the staffroom: tatty lino, shabby chairs, no proper storage space. Toilet-rolls were heaped up in one corner; a pile of battered box-files in another. It all came back to lack of funds, of course. With more resources, he could work minor miracles; not with