Ian Sansom - The Delegates' Choice aka The Book Stops Here

'Coming through,' Israel repeated, clutching polystyrene cups of coffee. 'Excuse me! Librarian coming through! Mind your backs!'

'About bloomin' time,' said Ted, accepting a cup of coffee.

'We're certainly drawing the crowds then,' said Israel, handing another coffee to his mother.

'We're celebrities,' said Israel's mother.

'Aye,' said Ted. 'Mebbe. But we've no chance of the Concord De Le Glance, have we, after what those flippin' Gypsies-'

'They weren't Gypsies!' said Israel.

'Hippies,' said Ted, 'have done to my van.'

'Concord De Le Glance?' said Israel's mother.

'Concours D'Elégance,' said Israel.

'That's the one,' said Ted.

'It's the prize for the best-looking van,' explained Israel.

'Not a chance,' said Ted glumly.

'I don't know,' said Israel. 'Look at the crowd. The judges might look kindly upon something so…different.'

'Aye,' said Ted.

'Anyway,' said Israel's mother. 'This is the famous Mobile Meet. We're here. We made it. But I have to say it doesn't look that impressive so far. A lot of white vans.'

'Well, we've already missed a lot of the seminars,' said Israel, referring to a leaflet he'd picked up in the makeshift administration building, an old Nissen hut. 'Here we are: "Public Library Service Standards: The Future", "The Disability Discrimination Act: In Practice" and "New Developments in Livery." Missed them all.'

'Pity,' said Ted.

'But apparently the judges are still working their way round looking at the vehicles.' Israel referred again to the leaflet. 'There's awards for Livery, State of the Art, Delegates' Choice, Concours D'Elégance.'

'Hooray!' said Israel's mother.

'So we've still got a chance. We're not entirely out of the running.'

'Not a chance,' said Ted, again. 'It'll take me months to have this resprayed properly.'

'Well, whether or not you win,' said Israel's mother, 'I think you've done very well just getting here. We got the van back, and that's the main thing. And certainly what you have now, for better or for worse is…' She glanced up behind her at the painted vehicle. 'Very…different.'

'Aye, well, there's different,' said Ted, 'and then there's stark ravin' mad.'

'Anyway,' said Israel's mother, stubbing out her cigarette. 'I'm just going to have a little rest here. Why don't you two boys run along and enjoy yourselves.'

'Mother!' said Israel.

'Go on!' said Israel's mother. 'I need a lie down for ten minutes. All this excitement has tired me out. Go on! And take the dog with you, Ted, please.'

'Come on then,' said Israel, obediently, stepping away from the van through the crowd, 'let's go and look at the new vehicles shall we, Ted?'

Ted grunted.

'Is that a yes or a no?' said Israel.

'Aye,' said Ted, scooping up Muhammad. 'Show's over!' he announced to the crowd around the van. 'Shoo!' he said, waving them away. 'Go and gape at something else will ye! Go on! Shoo!'

Disgruntled, mumbling mobile librarians shuffled away.

One area of the old airfield was completely given over to companies who had set up little tents and marquees alongside their new demonstration mobile library vans. It was like wandering into a travelling circus.

'Gentlemen. Welcome,' said the salesman on the first vehicle that Ted and Israel approached, a vast white, shiny behemoth of a thing. The salesman wore a black suit and black shirt and black tie.

'You off to a funeral?' said Ted.

'Sssh!' said Israel.

'Sorry?' said the man.

'Can we have a look inside?' said Israel.

'Sorry, gentlemen,' said the man, blocking the doorway to the van, 'No dogs, I'm afraid.'

Ted picked up Muhammad, tucked him under his arm and uncermoniously pushed past the man and into the van.

'Well,' said the salesman, hurrying in after Ted, 'I suppose that's okay.'

'Sorry,' said Israel, following the salesman inside the van. 'It's been a long day.'

'So, gentlemen,' said the salesman, recovering his equilibrium and warming to his sales pitch, 'this model we call the Grande.' He pronounced the word Grand-A.

'The Grand-A?' repeated Israel.

'As in the Starbucks coffee size,' said the salesman, self-amused.

'Right,' said Israel.

'And then we have the SuperGrande, and the Mega-Grande.'

'Okay,' said Israel.

'And as you can see, we take our inspiration very much from top-of-the-range touring vehicles-American Winnebagos and such like.'

'And American high-street coffee shops?' said Israel.

'Right,' said the salesman. 'This is basically a luxury range of vehicles, which we regard very much as the S class of the mobile world.'

'Super?' said Israel.

'What's all this?' said Ted, pointing towards the driver's seat.

'Well, here,' said the salesman, 'in your light and airy cab area, you have two separate heated leather bucket seats, but depending on your requirements, gentlemen, we can also provide crew cab seating with a full second row, or jump seats.'

'Jump seats,' mused Israel.

'What are these?' said Ted, pulling at something above the windows.

'Don't touch!' yelled the salesman. 'Thank you! That's your electric blinds, for privacy.'

'For privacy?'

'And then there's the tinted glass, of course, and the electric sun roof.' The salesman demonstrated.

'Wow!' said Israel.

'Woof!' said Muhammad.

'There's also ambient lighting here in the cab and around the issue desk, for when you want to create a different sort of atmosphere.'

'A different sort of atmosphere,' said Ted, trying to comprehend what he seemed to be hearing. 'A different sort of atmosphere. In a mobile library.'

The salesman continued, regardless of Ted's mumbled provocations.

'Electronic mirrors and storage area above. Transmission control in the driver's arm rest, as you can see. Sat nav…' He talked on.

'Ted, what do you think, though, really?' whispered Israel. 'Isn't it fantastic?'

Ted just stared at him, Ted-like.

'Muhammad, then?' said Israel, looking at the dog. 'Isn't it good, eh?'

Muhammad just stared at him, dog-like.

'That's great,' said Israel, when the seemingly never-ending mini-tour of the van was completed. 'Thanks very much for showing us round.'

'My pleasure, gentlemen,' said the salesman. 'My name's Paul. If you have any queries, do give me a ring. Here's my card.'

'Thanks,' said Israel.

Ted had already walked away.

'Ted!' said Israel, catching up with him. 'Can't you show a bit more enthusiasm?'

'No,' said Ted. 'I can't.'

They arrived at the next demonstration vehicle.

'Hello,' said the saleswoman, from the top of the steps. She seemed to be wearing a uniform designed for an air stewardess. 'Welcome aboard!' she said, as Ted and Israel climbed the steps and entered in. She wore a light blue jacket with a cinched waist and a figure-hugging skirt, with a red silk scarf knotted around her neck and bright red lipstick. 'So!' She sounded German; all she needed was a uniform hat and Ted and Israel might have been stepping aboard a Lufthansa flight preparing for take-off sometime in the early 1970s rather than on a luxury mobile library in a field in the middle of nowhere. 'My name is Alina. Anything I can help you with, please let me know.' Israel felt himself blushing. 'Brochure,' continued Alina, thrusting one into Israel's hands.

'Thanks,' said Israel.

'So, gentlemen, we call this the Mother Ship.'

'Right,' said Israel.

'Ach, Jesus,' moaned Ted.

'Excuse my friend,' said Israel.

'Of course,' said Alina.

'Are you German?' said Israel.

'Polish,' said the woman.

'Right.'

'Cze015Bć,' said Ted.

'You speak Polish?' said the woman.

'You speak Polish?!' said Israel.

'Not really,' said Ted. 'Sure, there's loads of Poles now over in the north. Mrs Onions has a Polish son-in-law.'