The situation in the trenches at Catty Library is desperate: the enquiry desk has been condemned by Health and Safety; half the library has been cordoned off as hazardous (unfortunately it's the middle half, with the two end quarters available for use, which means that if anyone wants to go from the staff room to the counter, or from gardening to cookery in non-fiction, they have to leave the library and go round to the other entrance to get there); the People's Network clients are all covered with a tarpaulin; the windows are all boarded up; and the day is punctuated by an incessant banging as hairy-arsed workmen do their level best to bring all the plaster crashing down from the ceiling. Oh, and the back of the building's falling off but we're now assured that it isn't and that the fact the cracks are getting bigger is a sign that the fabric of the building is holding together beautifully.
And the library's still open.
The spirit of the Blitz has taken over the staff as they issue and return books in their war surplus tin hats. "Okay, girls, let's show Jerry that we can take all he can throw at us!" Tommy Hanley should be alive this day.
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