to the microfilm machine and showed him how to look up documents on it. He told Sam the library was shutting in fifteen minutes and went back to his desk. Sam cracked on with it, but trawling through the mass of archive material was a time-consuming process. He had just found what he was looking for when he heard light footsteps coming his way. This would be the librarian kicking him out.
'Sam? Fancy seeing you in here.'
Sam turned in his seat. Lucy Pargeter stood in front of him, holding a couple of books to her chest.
'Hello, Lucy. You getting some reading matter?'
'Not quite,' she grinned. 'I work here. Do you know we're shutting now?'
Sam looked at the clock on the wall. Exactly eight o'clock.
'Yeah, I left it a bit late to get here.'
Lucy was gazing over his shoulder at the microfilm.
'DR Garments?' she said with some surprise. 'Isn't that Carl Renshaw's company?'
Sam had on screen a two-year old front page from the local paper, The Bursleigh Sentinel. The headline told of a demonstration due to take place the next day in protest at the planned extension of the DR Garments factory.
'Yeah, it is,' replied Sam, hastily skimming through the rest of the article. 'Why? Do you know him?'
'Well, this is a small town,' she replied, walking over to the reception desk and sliding the books onto the shelf underneath. 'My dad grew up with him on the Withdean. He's always on about Carl Renshaw. Now, where did I put my car keys?'
Sam glanced over at Lucy. She was rummaging around under the desk looking for her keys. With Lucy preoccupied and Gareth nowhere to be seen, Sam turned back to the machine and scanned the Sentinel's archive pages for the days following the planned demonstration.
What he saw made very interesting reading.
***
'What does your dad have to say about Carl Renshaw, then?'
Sam was walking Lucy to the staff car park at the rear of the library. He could see his own motor across the road, its white bodywork dazzling under the street light. Lucy strolled along with him leisurely. She seemed in no hurry to get to her car, despite the coldness of the night.
'He's always going on about Carl being unpopular,' she said, adjusting the scarf draped around her neck. 'He reckons plenty of people would like to see him taken down a peg or two.'
'Like who?' asked Sam.
'I'm not sure. People off the Withdean, I think. The people he used to hang round with before he became successful. I don't take that much notice, to be honest. Dad's always giving out about something.'
Crossing the car park, Sam could see Lucy's blue Clio tucked away in the corner.
'Anyway, what's your interest in Carl Renshaw and his business?' asked Lucy, taking her gloves off and getting her keys out of her bag.
'I'm doing some research,' replied Sam.
'Research?' said Lucy, raising her eyebrows. 'Sounds mysterious.'
'Nah, it's not that exciting,' he told her. 'Look, I'm parked just over there and I'm sure you want to get home, so I'll get off now.'
Lucy unlocked her car, opened the door and threw her bag onto the passenger seat.
'Okay, Sam,' she said. 'Well, thanks for walking me to my car.'
'You're welcome. See you round.'
Sam thrust his hands into his pockets and headed towards the Capri. He gave Lucy a quick wave as she drove past. Then his thoughts turned to what he had discovered in the library.
'Sam!'
Lucy had stopped at the exit of the car park. Lowering her window down, she beckoned Sam over.
'I was thinking,' she said, looking slightly embarrassed. 'It's a lot quicker nowadays to look on the internet.'
Sam looked back at her, perplexed. She turned off her engine.
'What I mean is, if you're looking up old newspaper articles, it's quicker and easier to go online rather than using that old microfilm machine in there.'
'I haven't got a computer,' explained Sam. He hadn't even considered getting one since moving to Bursleigh. The outside world had held little interest for him. 'And my phone's an old one.'
'Oh, right,' she
'Sam? Fancy seeing you in here.'
Sam turned in his seat. Lucy Pargeter stood in front of him, holding a couple of books to her chest.
'Hello, Lucy. You getting some reading matter?'
'Not quite,' she grinned. 'I work here. Do you know we're shutting now?'
Sam looked at the clock on the wall. Exactly eight o'clock.
'Yeah, I left it a bit late to get here.'
Lucy was gazing over his shoulder at the microfilm.
'DR Garments?' she said with some surprise. 'Isn't that Carl Renshaw's company?'
Sam had on screen a two-year old front page from the local paper, The Bursleigh Sentinel. The headline told of a demonstration due to take place the next day in protest at the planned extension of the DR Garments factory.
'Yeah, it is,' replied Sam, hastily skimming through the rest of the article. 'Why? Do you know him?'
'Well, this is a small town,' she replied, walking over to the reception desk and sliding the books onto the shelf underneath. 'My dad grew up with him on the Withdean. He's always on about Carl Renshaw. Now, where did I put my car keys?'
Sam glanced over at Lucy. She was rummaging around under the desk looking for her keys. With Lucy preoccupied and Gareth nowhere to be seen, Sam turned back to the machine and scanned the Sentinel's archive pages for the days following the planned demonstration.
What he saw made very interesting reading.
***
'What does your dad have to say about Carl Renshaw, then?'
Sam was walking Lucy to the staff car park at the rear of the library. He could see his own motor across the road, its white bodywork dazzling under the street light. Lucy strolled along with him leisurely. She seemed in no hurry to get to her car, despite the coldness of the night.
'He's always going on about Carl being unpopular,' she said, adjusting the scarf draped around her neck. 'He reckons plenty of people would like to see him taken down a peg or two.'
'Like who?' asked Sam.
'I'm not sure. People off the Withdean, I think. The people he used to hang round with before he became successful. I don't take that much notice, to be honest. Dad's always giving out about something.'
Crossing the car park, Sam could see Lucy's blue Clio tucked away in the corner.
'Anyway, what's your interest in Carl Renshaw and his business?' asked Lucy, taking her gloves off and getting her keys out of her bag.
'I'm doing some research,' replied Sam.
'Research?' said Lucy, raising her eyebrows. 'Sounds mysterious.'
'Nah, it's not that exciting,' he told her. 'Look, I'm parked just over there and I'm sure you want to get home, so I'll get off now.'
Lucy unlocked her car, opened the door and threw her bag onto the passenger seat.
'Okay, Sam,' she said. 'Well, thanks for walking me to my car.'
'You're welcome. See you round.'
Sam thrust his hands into his pockets and headed towards the Capri. He gave Lucy a quick wave as she drove past. Then his thoughts turned to what he had discovered in the library.
'Sam!'
Lucy had stopped at the exit of the car park. Lowering her window down, she beckoned Sam over.
'I was thinking,' she said, looking slightly embarrassed. 'It's a lot quicker nowadays to look on the internet.'
Sam looked back at her, perplexed. She turned off her engine.
'What I mean is, if you're looking up old newspaper articles, it's quicker and easier to go online rather than using that old microfilm machine in there.'
'I haven't got a computer,' explained Sam. He hadn't even considered getting one since moving to Bursleigh. The outside world had held little interest for him. 'And my phone's an old one.'
'Oh, right,' she
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