“I’m sick of the book club.
It’s just another chore, isn’t it?
Having to read a novel by a certain date takes all the enjoyment out of
it.”
“Do you know, these days I feel guilty when I’m not reading –
then guilty when I am reading because I’m not doing something else that I should be
doing.”
Laura and Charlotte sipped their tea in turn. A mother opened the café door and led in a
pair of grizzling toddlers. Charlotte
sighed and picked up the biscuit which sat in her saucer. They had come in the
café to escape childish noises. And to
share notes about the latest book club text, to avoid making idiots of
themselves at the next meeting.
Laura pushed her notebook to the edge of the table. “Shall we leave then?”
“I don’t know. It’s something for the CV isn’t it? If I ever get my career back on track. If I ever find a job that fits around
everyone else.”
“We could suggest doing shorter books.”
“Can you imagine the look Ellie would give us if we suggested
that? She already thinks we’re as thick
as pudding.”
“Another reason. I’m leaving.
That’s it. I’ve decided.”
The toddlers were fastened into their high chairs by the
window and had been given a book each.
One of them began to bang the book on the tray.
“I know how you feel, mate.” Charlotte raised her cup at the child.
Laura turned and smiled. “Are those Ladybird books that
they’ve got?”
“Oh yes, so they are!” Now that is something I’d like to read
for the book club. Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty!”
“Ha! I remember
Rumplestiltskin best. He really stuck in
my head – oh the horror!”
“Let’s start our own Ladybird book club. I bet you can get them on ebay or in charity
shops.”
“I’ve still got mine at home!
Yes! Let’s do it!”
They sipped their tea again. The toddler’s book fell onto the
floor with a slap. Charlotte opened her notebook.
“So what do we do then? How does a Ladybird book club
actually work?”
They mused over and discussed the finer details of their new
club. Eventually, as the teapot was drained,
they decided that they would take one book per month and meet at the end of it
to share one favourite thing and one thing that they had been inspired to do by
it. They envisaged arts and crafts, a
society and all kinds of spin-offs.
Charlotte and Laura paid their bill and went to leave. The
mother with the toddlers dabbed jam off her sleeve and lifted her hand at them
as they passed.
“I’m sorry for listening but I couldn’t help it. Can I join too?”