Jenny I love my job. I love the endless shelves of multi-coloured books, the range of subjects. I love the smell of the pages when I walk into the library each morning. And I especially love helping our customers. The thought that the Council could include us in the cuts horrifies me. June, the librarian, now the only librarian, said we have to fight to keep the regulars. I’ve no idea how we are supposed to get the footfall up, though. As her junior, I have followed her advice. I give extra help and friendly support to everyone that enters. Most days, it is only the old men sitting in the newspaper section. But even those I try to befriend, by encouraging them to scour the bookshelves. I’m giving my closest attention to everyone. There is no problem being attentive to the elderly, young girls and older women, but it’s not so easy with the younger men. Yet for my job’s sake, I have made a great effort to overcome my discomfort. I know I …

Harry lifted his head and pointed his chin at the face of the Ferté-sous-Jourre monument. The imposing white Massangis limestone commanded attention in the French town square. It resembled a three-panelled photo frame, its only images letters of sorrow. It glowed peach with the going down of the sun. There was a jolt in his chest when he discovered the name. It was towards the top of the right-hand column, beside a rust-coloured stain. He laughed, tear-like. In that moment of recognition, he felt an overwhelming need to share the story of John Cokley. To tell with pride and sadness how on the first day of the Great War, during the first engagement with the enemy at Mons, his great-grandfather was missing, presumed….by two o’clock on an August afternoon by the locks along the Mons-Condé canal. Only his surviving comrades would be protected by the Angels of Mons. But he was alone on grey cold steps. Instead, he bowed in reverence and offered up a prayer, his gaze falling upon the area of his body …