The book club

THE BOOK CLUB

It was a cold windy January morning and as I got out of the car to make my way into the community centre, I zipped my coat up as far as it would go to protect myself.  I was worrying that there wasn’t enough biscuits left to go around everyone in the book club today.  I knew we were running low the last time we met .  I just hadn’t got a chance to go and get some more.

I’m Jean Dillon and I run the local book club.  There’s about 10 of us and we meet up once a month.  How it works is: We pick a book to read.  We all read the book and then come in and discuss what we think of it each month.  We’ve been doing it quite a while now, so we know each other well.  The book is usually forgotten about after a half hour or so and we end up having a good chat about anything and everything.

On this particular morning, everyone was there before me all huddled up beside the radiator.  It would be safe to say that the book club members are all women of a certain vintage - there is nobody under 40 and there are no male members. 
"Hiya,  Jean", Sandra, a plump lady with big round glasses is one of our more enthusiastic members.  She is usually the first to offer an opinion on the book we read. 
"I couldn’t put it down.  Great read, Eh?"
She waved the book around, narrowly missing Cathy who was practically wrapping herself around the radiator.  Cathy and Marie would be our youngest members.(about 45)  They always sit together and they always seem a little bit bored, like the whole thing is beneath them.  To be honest, I’m not sure why they are such regular attendees but there they are every month without fail, stiffling their yawns.  Cathy gave Marie a look as if to say here we go again, more of the same ,but she said nothing.

"Ok, folks", I announced, "First things first.  Let’s have our coffee and biscuits- I hope we have enough"
"It’s ok, Jean.  I knew we only had Digestives and I had a box of Thornton’s handmade chocolates going abegging after Christmas - Help yourselves there ,if you want any"
I smiled with relief at Joyce.  Joyce would be the only person in the book club I consider a friend.  We are both of the same vintage - 50 plus and we knew each other before I set up the book club, from the Women’s Guild.  We were part of a group that knitted a gigantic quilt made up of different coloured squares to raise funds for the homeless.  We occasionally meet up for a glass of wine in the foyer of the newly built hotel down the town.

"Love your Cardie", I was saying to Joyce now.  It was obvious she had her Christmas best on this morning. She had a beige cardigan on with beige slacks to match.
"Thanks, Jean.  I got it in M & S’s sale.  I did well.
It can be very hard to find something to fit."
"It’s definitely your colour, dear"
Mary would be our oldest member.  She must be pushing 80 and is physically very frail, using a stick to help her walk.  Mentally, however she is as sharp as a razor.
"Did you get colour in your hair over Christmas, Joyce?",she continued.  "You look really smart this morning"
 

"Ok, everyone.  I suppose we better get down to business and talk about the book.  This month’s book was "The Davinci Code"  What did you all…….?"
We could hear footsteps outside, so we knew there was someone coming before the door opened.    We were the only people using the community centre , so they echoed loudly in the silence.  We looked at each other slightly startled.
"We’re not expecting anyone else this morning are we?". I whispered.  The door opened and a man entered.  He was tall and thin and I was immediately struck by his intense piercing eyes.  I couldn’t help but notice , also that he was very scruffy looking .  His face was unshaven and he was wearing a long black coat that was covered in stains.  He would put you in mind of a homeless person, I thought.  One of his hands was kept inside the black coat out of view and this struck me as strange.

"I think you’ve come to the wrong place", I volunteered."  The Social Welfare Office Is on the opposite side…." 
"Is this the local book club?", He spoke then in a very strong Scottish accent.
"That’s right", I answered hesitantly.
"Well then, I’m in the right place"
And that was when the nightmare began.  He took his hand out of his pocket and in it he had a gun.  And it wasn’t a small gun either.  It was a machine gun.  Similar to the ones you see in gangster films.

All hell broke loose, anyway at the sight of it.  Cathy and Marie started screaming: high pitched screeches that were strangely co-ordinated.  Sandra started to cry quietly, the tears rolling silently down from underneath her glasses.  Joyce was rooted to the spot but I could see her whole body had started to shake.  I sat there as though I was frozen and for those few seconds, I had the oddest sensation, like it wasn’t happening to me. Like what was taking place was a program on television and I was sitting watching it.

It was Mary, our oldest member, who managed to keep her wits about her and try to deal with the situation.
"If it’s our money you want", she said to the gunman "help yourself.  We don’t have much between us but we’re all willing to empty our purses, aren’t we girls?"
We all nodded, whilst staring nervously at the gun.
"I dinna want yer money, ladies"
He was moving the gun around now, slowly pointing it, first at Mary on the far side and working his way round to Sandra on the other side.
"I’m here for the book club.  I want ye to have yer book club as normal.  Don’t mind me.  Just look on me as a spectator"
He laughed to himself after he said this and the  crazed expression in his eyes seemed to me to be very frightening , as though he was in his own mad little world.

Again, Mary spoke up.
"If you  wanted to join the book club, you could have just asked, son.  There’s no need to bring a machine gun though is there?"
"Aye, there is", he replied.  "Di ye think ye’d have time for the likes of me if I didn’t have this."  He was roaring now.  "I’d be out the door by now.  Put that mobile phone down", he shouted at Cathy who had slowly taken it out of her pocket to try and text for help.  Cathy dropped it and we all watched helplessly as it fell on the ground.
"Alright then, ladies.  I believe we have a book to discuss.  What book are ye talking about this time"
There was a silence, interspersed with little sobs and whimpers.
"Come on now.  Don’t be shy.  You with the glasses.  You’ve got a page in your hands.  Is that about the book?  Is that your notes"
Another big tear ran down Sandra’s cheek. 
"Yes", she whispered.
"Well, share your thoughts with the group.  This can’t be much of a book club if no one wants to talk.  What’s the name of the book anyway"
"The Davinci Code", whispered Sandra again.
"Speak up.  I canna hear ya very well.  Look, why don’t you just read out yer notes.  It’ll start off the discussion."
So, Sandra started to read.  It must have seemed light years away form when she had written these notes, full of enthusiasm, smugly thinking how she was going to have so much more to say than anyone else.

"I thought this book was absolutely fabulous", she read in a trembling voice that sounded like it was in danger of dissolving completely any second.
"It opens in Paris, when the hero Robert Langdon finds the body of a curator inside the Louvre.  However, this is no ordinary murder.  It turns out that clues have been left beside the body.  This is the start of a trail which Robert follows throughout the book.  It makes the pace of the book very exciting, as he must go from London to Paris and beyond.  But the really exciting thing is what he is searching for.  It is the Holy Grail.  According to this book, the Holy Grail is actually a blood line - meaning that Jesus actually had children with Mary Magdelene and their descendants are still alive today.  He was searching for proof of this.  I think this book is so interesting because we all have swallowed the nonsense the Catholic church have fed us down through the years.  This shows that a lot of the bible and everything is actually made up"
The gunman, to our surprise, clapped his hands(With gun still in them) slowly after she’d finished reading.
"And what do you think, Madam.  Are you of the same opinion as this lady?"
He was addressing Mary now, who was looking at him very intently.
"I’ll tell you if you put that thing down", she said pointing her stick at his gun.
"My!, yer a feisty wee thing aren’t ye?  I’m sorry wee lady.  I canna do that. But I’d still like te hear yer opinion if it’s all the same to you"
"I agree it was a fast paced novel and a very enjoyable read but I’m not sure if I buy  into all stuff about the Holy Grail and Jesus’s descendants"

And then, to my total amazement, Marie started talking as if we weren’t being held at gunpoint.
"I think this book was an absolute disgrace", she said.
"How could he say those things about the Catholic church.  That Mary Magdalene and Jesus’s descendants are now walking the Earth.  In my opinion, it amounts to blasphemy."

"But, Marie, Did you not read the book.  Dan Browne explained it all so well.  There were clues to the secret blood line visible in Leonardo Davinci’s painting.  Davinci was part of a secret society- the Priory of Sion.  They had proof of all this.  The Catholic church was trying to cover it up.
"Hocus Pocus!", exclaimed  Marie, really getting into her stride now and I wouldn’t mind - normally we’re lucky to get two words out of her. 
"All of this nonsense was just made up by the author to make a good story.  You only have to read the New Testament to get the truth about the Catholic church"
"It seems to me that this book is very controversial.  It’s bringing out very strong views in people"
Now the gunman felt he had to put his tuppence halfpenny in.
"Have you read the book yourself?  What’s your name by the way?"
I was admiring Mary’s way of coping with the situation more and more every minute.  At the back of my mind I remembered reading somewhere that the best way to deal with a hostage situation was to try and befriend the hostage taker.  They were less likely to hurt you if you engaged with them.

"My name’s Gary and no I haven’t read the book.  Actually do you know what?  I canna read.  You people you think you’re so great sitting here discussing yer books.  You think your better than everyone else.  You were probably the brainy ones when you were in school.  Looking down your noses at the likes a me.  Do you know what?  I got beaten every day because I was a slow learner.  Imagine how I felt going into school?  I’ve gone through pain and humiliation all my life and some one told me recently that the reason I had trouble reading is because I’m dyslexic.  So you see I’ve had to suffer and it’s na even my fault.  It’s the likes a you that give the likes a me a hard time.  So that’s why I’m here now .  The way I see it, it’s pay back time"

"That must have been awful for you, Gary"  Mary, once again was first in with a very sincere sounding response. "but it’s not too late to learn to read.  You could join an adult literacy class"
Again, he started waving his gun around threateningly.  Sandra let out a loud sob.  Cathy put her arm around her and gave her a squeeze.
"I already have joined one of them classes" , he was shouting again now. " But it’s not easy.  I’ve been doing it for a year now and I still can’t even read a newspaper, not even the Sun. I bet you lot think only scum can’t read.  You think you’re better than me don’t you?  You know what? You make me sick.  You lot are no cleverer than me that’s for sure"
And then, to our collective horror, he pointed the gun at the ceiling and fired.  A hail of bullets shot through the plasterwork and a load of dust and plaster came falling down on top of us.  Sandra was sobbing unreservedly now, unable to control herself.

"I can see you’re a clever man, Gary", Mary’s voice had a syrrupy edge to it now.  "And do you know what?  I bet you’re getting on better at those evening classes than you think.  I bet you could even read a page of "The Davinci Code" no problem.
"I couldn’t read that.  I told you.  I only get The Sun for page 3."
"Let’s see you try.  Sometimes, if you read in front of people, it spurs you on to read better"
And, to my amazement, he picked up the book.  Whilst still tucking his machine gun under the other arm.
""Robert………..Langdon……….a woke slow…ly.  A tele  tele….."," I can’t do this.  These words are too hard" 
While his head was buried in the book, Mary waved over at Marie, gesticulating wildly at the mobile phone on the floor.
"Come on", she said to Gary.  You can do it.  Take your time"
"Tele Tele  phone."
Marie had the mobile phone in her hand by now and to all our amazement Gary wasn’t even looking up.  He was too engrossed in trying to figure  out the next word.
"Was ring    ing in the dark…"
"What could it be?  Try and think of the sense of it", Mary was saying.
"Darkness!", exclaimed Gary, clearly very pleased with himself.
"A tinny un  fa mil  iar ring ", I’m really getting the hang of this amn’t I?
"You’ll be reading The Times every day if you keep this up", said Mary, smiling over at Marie, who was texting away wildly.

Gary kept reading.  In fact, he read about five pages and was so engrossed in the task that he failed to notice the Armed Response Unit creeping in the door and when they shouted: "Drop your weapon!", he jumped and the machine gun fell to the floor.

As he was led away by two burly officers, he shouted back at Sandra. 
"You were very naïve to swallow all that stuff about the Holy Grail.  Could you not see that it was just a book te entertain people.  It were only meant to be a bit of fun."
"Come on now Sir, That enough", One of the officers pushed him towards the door , then.
Mary turned to Sandra then and said: "Do you know what, Sandra?  I think he has a point"