Yvonne was
quietly spoken. It was hard to tell if
she had always been that way or if her ten years in a library had somehow
forced her voice into retreat. From the
other side of the desk, I could see her twiddling the chain of the glasses hung
around her neck and biting her lip and she flitted through the pages of the
catalogue that lay in front of her. Her
powder pink cardigan betrayed no sign of age although I know it had been worn
every week for as long as I could remember.
As a man approached the service counter, Yvonne seemed to shrink
somehow; her body becoming smaller. She
walked silently over to the desk and lifted her head to the man, but not her
eyes.
“Would you
recommend this book?”
Avoiding
his gaze, she glanced at the front cover and smiled to herself. The man didn’t seem to notice. “Absolutely sir. I believe it has been very well received.”
Satisfied,
he nodded, took the book from the counter and turned away.
Yvonne
returned to the office with a broad smile now stretched across her face; a
dimple on one cheek. She laughed aloud
as she fell back into her chair.
I looked at
her questioningly. “That book, what was
it?”, I asked.
“It’s
called “on-stage/off-stage”, it’s a biography of a rock singer from the
80s. She led rather a wild life, I
understand”, she giggled.
“Ah yes,
I’ve heard of it! It’s a bit
controversial in places”.
Yvonne let
another burst of laughter escape and I spotted her bright red earrings swinging
beneath her hair as she tossed her head back.
“What’s so
funny about that?”
“Well, it
was a long time ago and you know, things were different then. I shared an agent with another singer, and
they asked me to go on tour with them.
It seemed too good an opportunity to miss!”
As I stared
open-mouthed in amazement, I remembered images of the singer I had seen and
began to see that raucous, black-haired young woman under the tidy cardigan and
neat hair.
Pleased at
my reaction, she pushed her chair back once more, looked at the clock and said
“well, time for children’s story time”.
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