Never cross a librarian, especially Mrs. Henlow.

I had swung by the library to meet a friend when a fingernail jabbed my shoulder.

It belonged to the resident librarian who had a large pair of thick glasses and hair intricately twisted into a bun. There wasn’t one grey hair despite her age. I imagined she dyed it every week.

“Mrs Henlow, how are you?” I ask. Noting the twitch of a perfectly plucked brow.

“Quite well. Are you browsing? Or perhaps here on other business?” She smiles and shows gappy teeth.

“No, I’m here to meet Bradley. We’re headed-“

“Bradley? I’m sure I saw him by the reception desk.”

With that she suddenly turns and walks away, headed to the main reception with the faded bunting and beige computer. I follow her patent pumps and look all around.

“He’s not here, Mrs Henlow.” I tell her. My phone in my pocket vibrates and I see it’s a message. “Oh, it’s a text from Bradley, he says he’s outside in his car.”

“Oh, all right dear. Is he coming inside?”

“Probably not. You see, we’re headed to the coast for a family visit, and it’s a long drive.”

Mrs Henlow thoughtfully taps her glasses with her long nails. “Is it now? Anything you have to do before you leave?”

Running a quick checklist in my mind I end up shaking my head. “Nope. Thanks though.” Another text. “I’d better be off now, it was nice seeing you!”

Her face darkens as I leave, probably because I was being rude. Bradley greets me and we’re buckled in and driving in no time.

After about ten minutes we hear a loud honk.

“What’s that guys problem?” Bradley muses, peering at the rear view mirror where a big white suv revs at us, honking away.

There’s no traffic, no slow drivers at all, and Bradley gives the car time to pass, but it gets very close, almost clipping. “What the hell?!”

Bradley steps on the gas and attempts to outrun the huge white car, while I hold on tight to my seatbelt.

“It’s not worth it!” I shout.

“To me it is!”

His car is fairly new, and fast, but still we weave away only to find the suv right next to us again. The speedometer goes ever upwards.

I feel sick with terror at Bradley’s road rage, more so because the suv seems to be trying to run us off the road!

Eventually it does just that.

There’s a squeal of tyres, a whoosh of airbags and we end up in a ditch overlooking a field of sheep.

The white suv rolls to a stop and I brace myself. Bradley is trapped in by a mound of dirt and my door is locked.

There’s a terrible silence as we hear feet tap towards us.

Then Mrs Henlow pops her head into view, peeling off driving gloves.

“I hate to be so forward, but I had to get your attention before you left. You owe me late fees.”

I blink. Bradley blinks. “What?”

“Yes, three weeks ago you took out ‘love for dummies’ and I believe you returned it into the book-drop yesterday. You owe £2.10.”

When we both stare at her she only pulls out a little notebook. “I believe the math is correct for ten pence per late day.”

“You nearly killed us for £2!” I exclaim.

“£2.10, dear. Also I made sure to safely bring you off the road so as not to damage your car. Aside from the airbags and some dirt, all should be well.” She smiles again.

With a weary sigh, I pull out my wallet…