Disclaimer: John and Anna own my heart. I own nothing but my own imaginings.
For skeeter0003 - I'm sure she'll know why.
And for lemacd, who is the reason that this is finally complete.
When you feel that you have reached the end and that you cannot go one step further, when life seems to be drained of all purpose:
What a wonderful opportunity to start all over again, to turn over a new page.
– Eileen Caddy
John Bates sat down at the black institutional desk in the workroom of Downton Library, hooking his cane over the arm of the chair, setting his worn leather briefcase at his feet, and feeling every one of his 42 years.
It was his first day in Downton as a new reference librarian, a job he had not done in almost two decades. While he'd begun his career in libraries as a young man, his life had taken some drastic and unexpected turns over the years, many of which he could now chalk up to poor decisions made for unwise reasons.
A wild night out with mates at his local all those years ago had resulted in his meeting Vera, the woman from whom he had just recently – finally – been able to free himself, after years of misery and a long, drawn-out, and painful divorce. His then-wife had had a taste for excitement and so, soon after their hasty marriage, had nagged at him until he'd given up what she'd seen as a boring occupation. "Who goes to libraries now? Everything is being computerised," she had snickered repeatedly.
He had finally joined the army, but a military career comprised of several tours of duty in Afghanistan had come to a sudden end when he'd been shipped home with a serious leg injury. His resulting months as a bedridden invalid had given Vera grounds, in her mind at least, to seek her excitement elsewhere, and at that point their already failing marriage had been, for all intents and purposes, over.
Seeking solace in the bottom of a bottle had then created new problems, and John had been swept into a downward spiral until a watershed moment when a bitter argument with his dear mother had forced him to finally take a good, long, honest look at himself, and he had been shocked and disgusted by what he had seen. He had not had a drink since then, and had worked doggedly at turning his life around. That long, hard, exhausting journey had ultimately brought him to this day, and to this desk.
He sighed and closed his eyes briefly as an unfamiliar combination of relief and hope overtook him. All he wanted was a chance to do a respectable job that would allow him support himself, and to live a quiet, insignificant life. Yes, I could be very comfortable here, he thought, glancing at the plain but serviceable room with a row of book trolleys lined up next to one of the doors. Hopefully it would be a calm morning, giving him time to get acclimated to his new workplace without too much added stress and worry. This chance for a new start was hard won, especially at his age, and he was grateful for it.
"Mr. Carson," drawled Thomas Barrow, poking his head around the door of the head librarian's office. "We've just had a call from Gwen. She's poorly and won't be able to cover Anna's storytime this morning."
"That's the last thing we need today," huffed Charles Carson, his bushy grey eyebrows knitting together in consternation. "With Anna away till this afternoon, and now Gwen out, and this being Mr. Bates's first day, we're already short-staffed. I don't suppose you could…"
"If you wanted me to take on extra duties like this, you should have hired me for the permanent position," replied the young man icily. "Get Mr. Bates to do it, since he was given the cushy job. And why he was taken on instead of me, I'll never know. The man can't even walk properly…how will he ever be able to lift and carry, much less dance with the little ones at rhyme time, if needed?"
"That'll be enough of that, Thomas," asserted Carson. "What time does storytime begin?"
"10:30 – just an hour and a half from now."
"Well, I will speak with Elsie Hughes and start working out a solution, then. Thank you."
"Ah, Mr. Bates – welcome to Downton Library," said an older woman with short greying brown hair, as she approached his desk. "I'm Elsie Hughes, head of programming and outreach services."
"It's John, please…and it's very nice to meet you, Ms. Hughes."
"Ach, please call me Elsie. And it's lovely to meet you, too. We're very glad you're here," the woman said with a smile and a prominent Scottish burr. "John, I'm looking forward to getting to know you and to working with you," she said, then paused. "And I hate for your first day to begin with an emergency, but we have a bit of a…situation…that we're hoping you can help us with."
"Of course - whatever I can do to help," John replied immediately.
"Anna, our regular storytime librarian, is out this morning, and Gwen, who was scheduled to cover for her today, has just let us know that she'll be out this morning, too."
John's stomach dropped. Storytime? Surely they wouldn't ask him to read for a group of small children…had he ever done that in his early years as a librarian, before he joined the army? Most likely not…he had always worked in adult reference. He swallowed nervously.
"John, I hate to ask this of you, especially on your first day, but the program is scheduled to begin at 10:30, and we have nobody to lead it. I'd do it myself if I didn't have a meeting with one of our community partners at the same time. So…I was wondering…"
A myriad of conflicting thoughts, laced with panic, rushed through John's head, before he ultimately realised that he needed to do whatever was humanly possible to make this job, a lifeline for him, a success.
"Of course, I'll help if I can," John said, with far more confidence than he felt. "Just fill me in on what I need to do."
Elsie smiled gratefully. "Thank you very much – I can't tell you what a relief this is! I'll take you over to the program room now, if you'd like, and show you the books and music that Anna left for Gwen to use."
Music?! He was definitely not ready for this.
"That would be helpful, thank you," John replied, with a tight smile.
As he followed Elsie through the workroom toward the door to the main part of the library, he noticed a dark-haired younger man watching with what appeared to be a sly smile, but perhaps he was misreading the man's expression.
John put it out of his mind so that he could focus on the task at hand. He had a little over an hour to be ready to do something at which he had no experience and that was very much out of his comfort zone. Just let me get through the next couple of hours, he thought, gripping his cane tightly. What a first day this was turning out to be.
Elsie directed John toward the table at the front of the program room, where several picture books lay, as well as an iPod (she apologised profusely for the outdated technology but, as with other public institutions, the library's meagre budget didn't allow for a more up-to-date device), a Bluetooth speaker, a set of felt bears in different colours, and a small stack of papers. A felt-covered easel stood next to the table, and a cuddly light brown stuffed bear was seated on a rolling cart close by.
"Anna left a loose outline for Gwen to follow," she noted, "but if you'd rather come up with your own, feel free. The program is 30 minutes, from 10:30 to 11:00. It's meant for ages 3 to 5, but people often don't pay attention to the recommended ages, and we get younger sisters and brothers, as well. So don't be surprised if you see much younger ones there, even babies. Do you have any questions?"
My question is how I got myself into this situation, thought John, but he forced a smile. "I can manage."
"I have no doubt," reassured Elsie gently. "Well, I'll be off then, and give you some time to get yourself sorted. If you have any questions, just come find me in the workroom."
"Thank you." After Elsie left the room, he sighed, leaning his cane against the front of the table. He had no idea how he was going to do this, but it wouldn't help to panic. There was nothing else for it but to get started and work out a plan.
If he survived till 11:00 a.m., he'd be a very happy man, indeed.
45 minutes later, John felt marginally better about his plan. Thank goodness the regular person – Anna, was it? – had left that outline, in addition to the books, music, and props. He had managed to make the wireless connection between the iPod and the speaker, and had also figured out how to use the playlist. But as 10:30 drew nearer, performance anxiety replaced his earlier concern about getting himself organised.
In theory, the books shouldn't be a problem - John was, after all, a reader. That was one of the things that had initially attracted him to library services, even though books were definitely not all there was to libraries these days. Looking over the picture books, however, he realised that reading aloud to children might present some challenges.
The books on the table were Brown Bear, Brown Bear by Bill Martin, Jr., Going on a Bear Hunt by Michael Rosen, and Mad, Mad Bear by Kimberly Gee. Variations on a theme of Bear, thought John ruefully.
As for the music, the playlist seemed relatively straightforward, and there were printed lyrics for each song plus a couple of rhymes in the stack of papers on the table. He could handle that, couldn't he? He decided that he would play the songs – a "Good Morning" song, a song called "Open Shut Them" about opening and shutting one's hands, another song called "Silly Dance Contest," and a goodbye song – from the iPod and just try to sing along from the lyrics sheets, and hopefully some of the children would know the words and join in.
After familiarising himself with the books, working out a few hand motions for "Open Shut Them," reading through the rhymes, and working out what silly movements he might use for the "Silly Dance Contest" - thank goodness the singer (an American fellow with a twang and a banjo) pretty much dictated what the audience should do during that one – John felt like he just might be able to survive the 30-minute program.
He had written some notes on the list of songs and rhymes, to hopefully help keep himself on track, and had all his materials laid out on the table in presentation order, as well. He wasn't sure whether the cuddly bear was supposed to be used for something in particular, but decided it could just sit there in support of the bear theme. The true wild card, and it was a big one, was the children themselves. He was not used to reading or speaking in front of any audience, and his experience with small children was negligible.
John felt his anxiety beginning to rise again, and tried to remind himself that he was lucky to have been taken on for this post, and therefore was actually fortunate to be in the predicament he found himself in. It was a bit of a consolation, but not much.
Glancing at the clock, he saw there were ten minutes left before start time. Forty minutes from now, it would all be over, and he would survive, surely?
Quick footsteps sounded in the corridor, and he glanced at the open door just in time to see a small blond boy burst into the room, followed by a harried older woman with steel-grey hair and a slightly exasperated look.
"George, wait! It's not 10:30 yet…we need to wait out in the library."
"But Miss Anna always lets us come in early!"
"Miss Anna isn't here today," replied the woman. "We need to let this gentleman have a little peace and quiet."
"You're all right," John said. "I'm probably as ready as I'll ever be," he added with a wry smile.
"See, Nan? He says we can stay!"
"If you're sure…?"
"Make yourselves comfortable."
"What do you say to the kind man, George?"
"Thank you!"
"Thank you, Mister…" prompted the woman, looking at John questioningly.
"…Bates," he filled in. "John Bates."
"Thank you, Mister John Bates!" said George, sitting down on the carpet directly in front of John.
"You're very welcome," he chuckled. "John is fine, though."
"Are you Miss Anna's friend, Mister John?" asked the boy.
"Er, I've actually not met her yet," he admitted. "I'm new. Today is my first day."
"Well, this is very brave of you, to do storytime on your first day," said the woman with a friendly smile, taking a seat on the carpet next to the boy.
"I'm happy to help if I can," John replied, with far more confidence and cheer in his voice than he felt.
"My name is Isobel Grey, and this is my grandson. We love storytime, don't we, George?"
"Storytime is fun!" the boy exclaimed.
More children and their adults filtered in, and before John realized it, it was 10:30 and he was facing a large group of expectant faces. He coughed nervously.
John had encountered many difficult situations in his life, particularly during his time in Afghanistan. But facing a room full of small children and their families who were expecting a performance of sorts, while of course nowhere near as frightening as armed combat, was honestly feeling almost as intimidating in this moment. At least he knew that he would still be alive at the end of storytime. Or so he hoped.
"Good morning, everyone…" he said, in an unsteady voice. No, that wouldn't do at all. Start as you mean to go on, he reminded himself. He cleared his throat. "Good morning!" he said again, in a louder, clearer voice.
"Good morning!" replied the audience.
"Where is Miss Anna?" a child asked.
John took a deep breath to ground himself. "She's away this morning, so I'm covering for her. My name is John, and I'm another of the librarians here at Downton Library. Welcome to storytime! Now…let's get started."
"'Good morning to you,'" John sang softly along with the recorded music, "'Good morning to you. Good morning, dear friends, good morning to you.'"
Singing was definitely not something he was comfortable with, and John was glad that the song was so short. Relieved to have managed the iPod and to have sung along with the simple song without mishap, he was just about to move on, when a small voice interrupted his focus.
"Miss Anna always moves her hands for the Good Morning song," a child informed him. "Why didn't you?"
"Well…" John replied with a strained smile, "I've only just started here at the library and so I don't know how to do that yet. Thank you for telling me - I shall have to learn."
The child looked sceptical, but John decided to keep going.
"Today we're going to read about bears…"
"Our first book is Brown Bear, Brown Bear." John held up the book, showing the book cover.
"I've read that already!" called out one child.
"I have that book at home!" chimed another.
John was startled. He hadn't anticipated that the children might be familiar with the books.
"Er, well…I guess you can enjoy the story again," he said, opening the book to the first spread which showed a huge brown bear done in illustrator Eric Carle's bold, colourful style. "Now, here we go: 'Brown bear, brown bear, what do you see? I see a red bird looking at me.'" He turned the page to show a large red bird.
"I can't see!" said a child.
"Is this better?" John asked, turning the book towards that side of the room.
"Yes, I can see now!"
"'Red bird, red bird, what do you see?'" continued John. "'I see a yellow duck looking at me.'" He turned the page to reveal the yellow duck.
John tried to make sure the illustrations were visible to everyone in the audience, but that made it a bit challenging to read from the pages at the same time. He realised he might end up with a crick in his neck. All he could do was his best, he thought.
John read on, getting into the rhythm of the book, and feeling thankful for the simple pattern that repeated on each page. Maybe he could handle this, after all.
"'Purple cat, purple cat, what do you see? I see a white dog looking at me.'" He turned the page.
"That's not a white dog, Mister John!" George pointed out. John looked at the spread and discovered that he'd somehow managed to skip a page. His face burned, and he quickly turned back to the pages with the white dog. Clearing his throat, he continued.
"'White dog, white dog…'"
John set the book down on the table and brushed at the perspiration on his forehead. Why had he thought that it was a good idea to wear a woollen jacket today? He tugged at his necktie in hope of loosening its stranglehold on his neck, then turned to the easel with the felt board.
"Next we'll do a bear rhyme." John placed the 5 coloured bears onto the green flannel.
"'One little bear…"' he began, and then suddenly remembered that the rhyme started with just one bear on the board, not five, so he quickly removed four of the bears.
"All right, let's start again. 'One little bear, wondering what to do…'" he read from the rhyme sheet. "'…along came another bear, then there were two.'" John added a 2nd bear to the board.
"'Two little bears, climbing up a tree, along came another bear, then there were three…'" As John placed the 3rd bear on the board, the 2nd bear slipped off and fell onto the carpet. Some of the children giggled, and John's face was crimson as he stooped to pick up the bear and place it back on the board, his knee twinging.
Suddenly he felt a presence to his left. Looking down, he saw a tiny child, not much more than knee height, swaying on unsteady legs and gazing up at him. A split second later, it registered that this little one was holding onto his cane, which he'd left leaning against the front of the table. How could he have been so careless? Alarm bells went off in his head; an injured tot was the last thing he needed!
"Hello," he said to the girl, and reached for the cane. "I'm just going to move this now, all right?" He tugged gently until the child let go, and placed it on top of the table, out of reach. He smiled at the child, not sure what to do – why wasn't her parent retrieving her? He glanced out at the families, but nobody was moving to claim her. Finally he turned back to the easel.
"'Three little bears…'" he resumed, and eventually the child toddled back into the audience. Thank goodness there were only 5 bears in all.
After fumbling through the rest of the 5 Little Bears rhyme, it was time for a song. John reached for the iPod but, despite his best efforts, he could not get the device to turn on again. It had been working earlier…had it run out of battery? Flustered, he set it back down on the table and quickly decided to move on to the next book.
"'We're going on a bear hunt," read John. "'We're going to catch a big one. What a beautiful day! We're not scared. Oh-oh! Grass! Long, wavy grass. We can't go over it. We can't go under it. Oh, no! We've got to go through it!'" He turned the page.
"'Swishy swashy! Swishy swashy! Swishy swashy!'"
Thankfully this book, too, had a repeating pattern; what changed each time was the obstacle the characters encountered while hunting the bear. John "splashed" through a river, "squelched" through mud, and so on.
But at the end, when the characters run back the way they came to get away from the bear, he started to trip over the sounds as he tried to make the pace of his reading reflect the hurry of the characters. John soldiered on, hoping that nobody was noticing his mistakes.
As he reached the end of the book, a toddler with ginger hair in the front row held up 2 plastic dinosaurs in his hands. He seemed to be asking John a question, but his speech wasn't developed enough to be comprehensible, at least to John. He smiled at the child, not sure what to do. The child asked another question, holding up the dinosaurs again.
"Do you like dinosaurs?" John asked. The boy nodded with a grin.
"He just wanted to ask you the same," said an adult sitting next to the child.
John smiled. "I do like dinosaurs. Thank you for asking!"
"All right, it's time for another rhyme. See if you can follow along." John gripped the sheet of paper with the words as he stood up.
"'Teddy bear, teddy bear, turn around
Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the ground
Teddy bear, teddy bear, reach up high
Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch the sky.'"
John modelled each movement as he read the verse, trying not to wave the paper about too much. Some of the children had stood up and were trying to do the same movements, but others just sat and stared at him. Somewhere in the group a very young child started fussing, the whimpers growing increasingly louder.
Just one more verse to go – surely he could get through this.
"'Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch your nose
Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch your toes
Teddy bear, teddy bear, touch your knees
Teddy bear, teddy bear, sit down please.'"
John was relieved to sit down again as the rhyme ended. He glanced at the clock on the wall. 10:45 – only halfway through the program.
John picked up the iPod again, but it still wouldn't turn on. Drat the infernal contraption – he had 3 more songs to do!
"Our music doesn't appear to be cooperating at the moment, so let's have another story. This one is called Mad, Mad Bear."
"'Bear is mad…'"
This book was shorter and simpler than the previous one, and it was just as well, as more of the children seemed to be getting restless. Toward the back of the room, two brothers started roughhousing, while the adult with them scrolled on a phone, oblivious.
The fussy young child's whimpers suddenly turned into sobs. Should he do something? What was expected? He could see the parent trying to shush the child.
John put a little more expression into his voice as he read, to try to get the group's attention back. When he came to a page where Bear gets really angry, he put his best scowl on his face, and was surprised and gratified to hear a couple of appreciative giggles from the audience.
His relief was short-lived, as the upset child's cries turned into loud, shrill screaming. The parent continued trying to soothe the child, but the toddler started flailing about on the floor.
Not knowing the best course of action, he thought he'd better just keep going, and within another couple of very long minutes John had finished reading Mad, Mad Bear.
He glanced up at the clock again. 10:50 – 10 more minutes to go. He tried to turn on the uncooperative iPod again, but no luck – and he quickly decided that this meant cutting the rest of the music from the program.
He wasn't sure what to do, but without the remaining songs, he had run out of material. He realised that he should have planned something extra, just in case. There was nothing for it but to end early.
"We've come to the end of storytime for today," he said abruptly to the surprised audience. "Thank you all for coming. Miss Anna will be back next time."
"Aren't we going to sing the goodbye song?" asked a child.
"You can sing the goodbye song next week with Miss Anna," John replied weakly, not knowing the song well enough from listening to it a couple of times to try to lead it a capella.
"What about Cuddles? We haven't sung to Cuddles!" exclaimed a little girl.
"Cuddles?" asked John.
The girl pointed to the stuffed bear on the rolling cart.
"You can sing to Cuddles next time, too," said John, his face burning. He hadn't realised that the bear wasn't just a prop to illustrate this week's theme.
Looking a little puzzled, the children and their adults started to gather their belongings and move toward the door. The upset toddler, remnants of tears on her face, was carried out on the hip of her parent.
The little girl who had asked about singing to Cuddles approached him. "I want to say goodbye to Cuddles."
"Yes, of course," John replied, bringing the bear down to her height.
"Bye-bye, Cuddles! See you next time!" She waved at the toy, then turned and skipped away, holding her adult's hand.
At last he felt like he was done, and John exhaled with a sigh. He had lived through the ordeal, but he couldn't say it had gone well.
As the remaining families were leaving the room, John began straightening the books and materials. He would need to ask Elsie Hughes where to put them away. He glanced up and noticed some of the children rushing up to a petite young blonde woman near the door.
"Miss Anna!" "We missed you!" "Where were you?" they chimed.
"I missed you, as well," she beamed, kneeling down so she was on eye-level with them. "But I will be here next week, so I'll see you then, right?"
Miss Anna?! John had thought she wasn't returning until the afternoon. His stomach did an uncomfortable flop. How long had she been at the door? Had she seen his disastrous bumbling?
"Miss Anna, we didn't sing to Cuddles!"
"It's nice to do different things sometimes. We'll sing to Cuddles next week," she reassured them.
As the last of the children exited the room, the young woman stood up and approached him with a bright smile, extending her hand. "Hello! I'm Anna Smith, the regular storytime librarian."
"John Bates, the new reference librarian," he stammered, shaking her hand and hoping his own wasn't sweaty. He could feel his face burning with embarrassment.
"I got back a bit earlier than I had expected, so wanted to come and thank you for doing this. I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr. Bates, and I'm sorry that you ended up covering for me on your first day."
"Please call me John. And it's all right - I managed." Barely, he thought.
"Of course you did," Anna smiled warmly, her clear blue eyes sparkling. "I'm sure the children loved it!"
Despite his misgivings, knowing how he had stumbled through the twenty minutes and ended early, John couldn't help but smile back.
There was something about this young woman – her cheerful kindness, her bright eyes, her youthful energy, the way she seemed to glow from the inside with a kind of positivity that he hadn't encountered before – that made him, for a brief moment, almost forget the anxiety and discomfort of the morning. He was surprised to feel the slightest twinge of regret that he would be working in adult reference, and not children's services.
John turned his attention back to the books and materials on the table.
"Miss Smith, perhaps you can help me – I was wondering where to put these things away."
"It's Anna, please – Miss Smith sounds like my great-auntie," Anna laughed. "And I'm happy to help. All the storytime materials are stored in the storytime cupboard – I'll show you where that is. All except for the books – those get checked in and returned to the shelves."
"And the easel?"
"That goes into the cupboard, too. It's a bit of a tight squeeze, but it fits." Anna set the books, papers, iPod, and speaker onto the rolling cart where Cuddles the Bear was seated. "Would you mind pushing the cart? I'll wrestle with the easel – it's got wheels, but it has a mind of its own and doesn't navigate easily. I've sort of learned how to wrangle it," she smiled.
John was thankful that he'd ended up with the cart. It rolled smoothly and wasn't hard to manage with his left hand while he used his cane in his right. He couldn't help but wonder whether Anna had made sure he had something he could manage, without making it obvious or making a big deal about it.
Anna led the way to a door near the children's picture book area, and unlocked it with a key on her lanyard. When she opened the door and flipped the light on, John's eyes widened. He took a couple of steps forward, surprised at the sight of shelving units and drawers neatly organised with puppets, cuddly toys, felt shapes, musical toys, and more.
She showed him where to put the felt bears, then where to file the rhyme and song sheets. Picking up the iPod, she fiddled with it, then frowned.
"Did this work for you, Mr. Bates?"
"It did before the program and then for the first song, but then it stopped, for some reason. I tried it a number of times, but it never worked after that. That's why I ended up stopping early."
"It looks like the battery is dead, which is very odd, because I made sure it was fully charged yesterday afternoon before I set up the room."
Rather than dwell on his failings with the music in the program, John tried to change the subject.
"How long have you been doing this?" he asked.
"Working at Downton Library?"
"Well…I meant storytime, but…"
"Actually, I started working here straight out of my library program, a couple of years ago, and they needed someone to do storytime, as the previous person had just left. So I jumped in feet first, without much training or guidance. I really had no idea what I was doing at first, but I've learnt a lot since then, and I like to think that I've grown into it."
"I'm sure you have," John replied. "The children kept mentioning Miss Anna. I know they missed you today."
"Oh, how sweet of you to tell me that. It's always nice to be missed, though I'm sure you did a wonderful job."
"I'm sure I didn't."
"Please don't say that. It's not easy to walk into a new job and be asked to do storytime on the spur of the moment. There's so much more to it than people realise. You know, before I started doing it, I really had no idea just how much thought and planning would go into it, and how involved it was – I thought it was just some fun, reading books and singing songs with the children. The more I learned, the more I came to understand that there is a great deal of intentionality involved."
"The children are having fun, of course – we want them to learn to associate books and libraries with positive experiences," she continued. "But along with the fun, they are actually learning skills that will help them as they grow. And not just things to do with reading and counting, but also things like self-regulation – learning to wait and not just act on impulse. It's all so valuable to their learning and growth, and great preparation for when they eventually start school." Anna's eyes shone.
"It's clear that you love storytime," said John.
"I do. Working with children, helping them to grow – there's not much that's more valuable than that, at least in my mind. And the children – they can be challenging sometimes, but they're so funny and sweet. Did you meet Nicholas?"
"I met George; they came early. But I don't know about Nicholas."
"Ah, yes – George always likes to wait in the room before we start. Nicholas loves dinosaurs and brings a couple of them every week."
"I guess I did talk to Nicholas, then," John recalled with a chuckle. "He asked me a question that I couldn't understand, till his parent 'translated' for me."
"Nicholas loves to talk about dinosaurs, but yes – he's not quite verbal enough to be easily understandable just yet," she smiled.
"There was also a really small girl who toddled up to the front and nearly brought my cane down on herself," John admitted sheepishly. "For a second there I was sure she would injure herself."
"That sounds like Molly," Anna laughed. "Tiny, not too stable on her legs yet? She always wanders up into the front, and grabs whatever is available to steady herself. Her parent isn't the most attentive. You're lucky she didn't grab your leg – she's done that before to me, and it can be a bit of a shock if I don't see her coming! She's a love, though."
Storytime was clearly a passion for Anna, something she both enjoyed and felt was a valuable contribution to the community, John noted with admiration. He wondered whether he would ever be able to feel that purpose and make that kind of difference in his own job. The thought percolated in the back of his mind as they put away the rest of the materials and then returned to their respective desks.
Early that afternoon, Charles Carson called a quick, impromptu staff meeting. John made his way to the meeting room, only to find most of the chairs already occupied. The only open seat close by was one between Elsie Hughes and Anna, who threw him a quick conspiratorial smile as he sat down.
"I know you all have work to do, so I'll try to keep this brief. First of all, I would like to introduce our newest member of staff, John Bates, who is joining the adult reference team. Some of you have already met him, but if you haven't, please be sure to introduce yourself sometime today and help him feel welcome and supported."
John smiled quickly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He hated being the centre of attention.
"Mr. Bates, thank you for stepping in to cover storytime for us," Carson continued. "I'm sure you were expecting a quieter first morning. How did it go?"
"Well, er…" John began.
Suddenly the young dark-haired man he'd noticed watching him this morning hurried into the room.
"Mr. Carson," he announced importantly, "Mrs. Grey would like a word."
"What, now? Did she say what it was about, Thomas?" huffed Carson.
"This morning's storytime."
"Did she say anything more?"
"No, she didn't, but she looks like she has a bee in her bonnet. Maybe she's unhappy that it ended so early… I was surprised to see the families all leaving the room at ten minutes to eleven."
John's stomach dropped. This Mrs. Grey must be here to complain about his terrible performance. And was it just his imagination, or had Thomas smirked at him as he'd speculated that she might have come to register a complaint and pointed out in front of everyone that he had ended the program early?
"I'll just go and see what she needs." Carson sighed. "I should be back in a few minutes. Meanwhile, Thomas, sit down, please. You should be present for this meeting."
After Carson left the room, Anna leaned over to John. "Mrs. Grey is on the library board," she explained quietly. "So Mr. Carson doesn't like to keep her waiting, if he can help it."
The library board?! This day was going from bad to worse, thought John. Why had he ever thought that he might be able to do a good job here, when he had been out of the profession for so long? His stomach churned, and he could feel the beginnings of a headache.
Anna must have read his expression, because she quickly added, "Don't worry. She always looks very determined, but she's a good person at heart."
John attempted a smile, but held out little hope.
After what felt like an eternity, Carson returned. "All right, thank you for your patience, everyone." He cleared his throat.
John looked down at his lap, trying to steady his nerves. Would he be called in for a private conversation with Mr. Carson? Would he be fired on his first day in the job?
"Thomas was correct - Mrs. Grey did want to talk about this morning's storytime."
A woman with a bun and tightly curled bangs snickered from the back of the room.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Carson. The iPod stopped working, so I ended up finishing early…" John began.
"There is no need to apologise," Carson interjected. "Mrs. Grey actually came to express her appreciation."
Thomas's jaw dropped slightly and his eyes narrowed.
"She said how pleasantly surprised she was that we had a male librarian presenting storytime," continued Carson. "Of course she and her grandson George love Anna and Gwen, but she said that the boy was quite taken with having a man as a 'teacher' for a change, and apparently couldn't stop talking about it afterwards. She also complimented Mr. Bates for taking on such a challenge on his first day, and said that not only did he do a fine job, but he also handled the inevitable hiccups with grace and good humour."
John couldn't believe what he was hearing. This Mrs. Grey – he realised that she must have been the woman who had arrived early with her grandson – had somehow managed to see beyond his fumbling and to find value in his subpar efforts. Relief flooded through his entire body, releasing the tension that had been in his muscles since early this morning.
"Thinking about what she said about having male 'teachers' in addition to female, I have decided – provided both parties are willing – to have Mr. Bates work with Anna on a regular basis. Anna will train him in best practices for storytime, and they will present the program together each week."
John's eyes widened. He glanced at Anna, who beamed at him. A murmur filled the room at this surprising turn of events.
"But Mr. Carson…" complained Thomas. "If Mr. Bates spends time working with Anna on storytime every week, he won't be handling all of the adult reference duties he should. I'm not going to take on extra work just so he can sing songs and play with teddy bears."
"There's a lot more to storytime than that, Thomas," Anna shot back, her eyes flashing.
Carson lifted his hand. "Settle down, please, everyone. I will look at everyone's duties and redistribute some of them. But Thomas, you would do well to remember that at Downton Library we are a team, and we all work together and support one another in service to our community."
Thomas frowned, but remained silent.
Carson continued, "This would also work into my goal for this year of having more cross-training so that more of us are able to support our coworkers in other departments, making our staff more flexible and versatile."
He paused, and looked directly at John. "What do you say, Mr. Bates? Are you amenable to this plan?"
"Yes, of course, Mr. Carson," John replied. "I'm happy to help in any way I can."
"Anna?"
"I think it's a wonderful idea, and I look forward to working with Mr. Bates."
"That's settled, then. Thank you both for being flexible and willing to work in new capacities to serve the Downton community." He nodded toward John and Anna, before giving Thomas a pointed look.
The meeting continued for another 15 minutes but, try as he might, John had a difficult time taking much of it in. His mind was buzzing. He had never anticipated the possibility of having to present storytime when he was hired for his position in adult reference. This was so far out of his comfort zone that it wasn't even remotely funny.
This morning had been a major stretch for him. He had managed to live through it, but just barely…and he'd thought it was a one off. Every week? How did he get himself into these situations?
And yet…he would not be doing it alone; he would be working with Anna. He barely knew her, but he already felt drawn to her warm, sunny disposition, so different to his. Working with her on a regular basis seemed like something he could look forward to, even if it meant he would have to present storytime each week.
John leaned back in his seat. It was just past midday, and already he was exhausted. The morning had definitely been nothing at all close to what he had expected of his first day at a new job. To say that it had been stressful would be an understatement; he had even thought at one point that he might be fired.
But recalling Anna's warm smile, friendly handshake, and heartfelt words about the meaning she found in her job, it had had some pleasant moments, as well. The memory brought a hint of a smile to his face. Perhaps something good might come out of this new page in his life, after all.
A/N: I started working on this just over three years ago, and so many times over that period I wondered whether I'd ever actually finish it. Those who know me will know why I really wanted to get it done. I definitely had fun with this one.
Thanks to JamesLuver for her ongoing assistance, support, and encouragement - her belief in me means the world. And I am, as always, indebted to lemacd, who stuck with this story over the entire 3 years, through thin and thin, and never ever gave up on it...or me. It can be challenging to continue writing when it feels like there are so few readers left; she is a big reason that I haven't yet given up.