“Oi, I wanna talk to you,” she shouted at the librarian.
Felicity tutted her irritation. Did people have no manners? She’d come here for peace, from the chaos of life. This was her sanctuary; a place where she could escape into a fantasy world created by someone else, yet her own imagination could still shape and influence it.
“I said, I wanna talk to you.”
Felicity sighed. She had read the same line five times. She closed the book, marking her place and studied the woman. Felicity was all for people expressing themselves, although there was a limit! She would have to say something. Could she? It was a terrifying thought. Confrontation was not something she ever invited.
“Will you be quiet,” said the librarian.
“Come here and say that to my face, bitch!”
Felicity felt her own pulse rate quicken. The situation was escalating, as was her anxiety.
The security guard arrived, asking the woman politely to leave. This only antagonised her, as she made a grab for a stack of books and threw them at the staff, who all ducked for cover. Nobody knew what to do as the woman continued to shout expletives in her vile, common accent. She was obviously drunk, as she teetered like a pile of books on the verge of collapse. Felicity hated drunk people. She had so many painful memories associated with alcohol.
This woman was doing something unspeakable to Felicity’s beloved books. There was no greater crime. She had already damaged some by launching them at the staff. She was now ripping pages out, throwing the pieces in the air like confetti, shrieking with laughter. That was the tipping point for Felicity. She was furious.
“Everyone keep back. The police are on their way,” said the security guard.
"Call, the coppers. I don't care," she shouted, not appearing at all fazed by their impending arrival.
An old man, who Felicity knew as a regular, and who usually shuffled along when he walked, had fled for safety with surprising agility. A woman had scooped up her two children under each arm like they were footballs and had headed for the door. Felicity could have escaped with ease. The woman had her back to Felicity and the main door was just a few metres away, yet she stayed put. How dare this woman defile somebody else's work! These books had people's hearts and souls in them; there was no excuse for her behaviour. Felicity took a step forward. Nobody noticed. She took a few more steps. The security guard saw her.
"Stay back, young lady," he said.
The woman turned to face Felicity and laughed. "You wanna piece of me?" she screamed.
"Put the books down," Felicity stated firmly. She could feel her entire body trembling, yet her voice was clear and controlled. It was the hardest thing she had ever done. She wanted to run at the woman and grab the books from her.
The woman looked at Felicity for a moment. There was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She went to make an approach, yet Felicity didn't move. The woman held her position. Had Felicity made her reconsider? Her heart was beating so fast that it dulled her hearing. They had reached a stand-off. If anyone else was speaking, then Felicity wasn't aware of it.
She wasn’t sure what possessed her to do it, but she walked slowly towards the woman, who was studying her closely. Was she going to attack? Felicity wasn’t sure. They were now less than a metre apart.
“I said, put books down.”
“What’s the magic word?” she laughed.
Felicity was all for politeness but saying please
would feel insincere.
“Well?”
Felicity was considering her response when the police arrived. The woman dropped the books to the floor, not wanting to put up a fight against the men in uniform. Felicity went to pick them up.
“Move away from the books, little girl,” said the policeman.
Felicity said nothing and stepped back. She had preferred the young lady
from the security guard, but knew when to pick her battles. All she could do was go back to her corner and continue reading, waiting for her mother to leave the pub, and hopefully, this time, she would remember to collect her.