February 2011
'No, I don't want anything special for my birthday,' Irene assured her work colleagues.
'No, I'm not throwing a party. I intend to spend the day here in the library as usual, then a quiet dinner with friends in the evening.'
Disappointment registered on the faces around her.
Irene picked up her pen, pulled a report towards her and they all knew that the subject was closed.
Divorced she may be, but Irene was not lonely. She enjoyed the company of her nieces and nephews who always seemed pleased to see her. They often called in on her at her flat or at the library - particularly when they wanted some help with homework.
Irene was proud of her job as librarian for she had studied hard to pass the necessary exams. It was a fulfilling job and when her duties were completed, she had a project of her own . . . writing her autobiography.
Through the years her two sisters had worried her to write her memoirs. As both their parents had died many years ago in a car crash, her siblings felt she had a duty to provide some form of family history, not only for them but for their children too.
They wanted to know about her life too. They knew she was divorced of course but never really knew why. The subject had never been really discussed in the family and Irene was extremely reticent . . . Were there hidden depths to their sister they wondered. Both sisters were considerably younger so they had never been a close family.
Irene guessed something of the curiosity which prompted the frequent requests for her memoirs. She would smile to herself, guessing the picture she must have presented through the years.
How much, or how little should she divulge when filling in details. During quiet spells in the library, Irene would type at great speed, carefully removing all evidence at the end of a session. She loved working on computers and chat rooms, Facebook and the like were familiar territory when at home.
As she worked on her autobiography, memories would come flooding back - lovers she had had and lost; lovers she had had - and not lost. There was the special one - well-known and with a reputation. No, she would not include him!
Yes, for years she had been in another world, one her family could never have imagined. Irene didn't need the carefully preserved letters to jog her memory, but she could not throw them away even now. With them too were special Valentine Cards.
But the time had come for a break - Irene wanted to know a little more about St. Valentine's Day. According to legend a Bishop of Terni was martyred at Rome and his festival was the 14th February. This date accidentally coincided with the Roman February Festival of Lupercalia. . . But how is it that a Festival of the third century is still marked today when special cards or tokens are sent to loved ones? Irene was sure those books in her library would provide the answer and much more when she had sufficient time for another browse.