There was small piece in the local paper:_ the library in our village was going to open soon and the librarian was holding a meeting at 16h 00 for anyone interested in offering to help.

It must be nearly a year since they announced that the former school was going to become a 'bibliothèque'. I was beginning to wonder if the idea would ever become reality, so the chance to see what was going on appealed to my curiousity.

Knowing that meetings don't usually start on time I left the house at two minutes to four and arrived just after (it's in the next road). Even so I was the first one there. I walked in and had a choice of three doors,  none of which bore a label. Just as I was wondering which door to try first the one on the right was opened by the librarian.

"I thought I heard someone," she said, "Come in."

By this time a second lady had arrived and by ten past there were six of us.

There were mixed reactions to the progress. The room was small but freshly decorated and there was a colourful children's corner with pictures, mini armchairs and a low settee. But there was a serious lack of books.

The bright new shelves were shining with white emptiness. One or two of the ladies expressed their amazement at the shortage.

"Oh, but there are more in here," said Isabelle (the librarian) leading us into the small room on the left where a table held a few piles of books.

"These are the ones that need covering and classifying" she said.

We went back into the main room and gathered round the table. There were now nine ladies, (seven of whom were retired teachers) and one man, the chairman, who is one of the mayor's deputies and also the retired head of the local school.

During the course of this meeting  we learned that the library does not 'belong' to our village but is sponsored by a group of surrounding 'communes'. But no-one was sure which villages were included - or even how many!

When was it due to open? Well, maybe in February - or March - but, hopefully before the local elections on March 9th.

Opening hours? Not sure yet: the librarian is paid to work 35 hours a week but she is also expected to tour the other villages. So that's where the volunteers come in - to man the premises in her absence.

The door opened again and in came Madame S - another retired teacher well known for her appreciation of a tipple. She sat down breathing fumes over us. I'm not sure what she had been drinking but I wouldn't have risked lighting a match near her.

"Sorry I'm late. Last minute phonecall - you know how it is."

She beamed in my direction - "Ahh, the little English lady. How nice of you to come." -  shook hands with everyone, someone produced another chair and she joined the circle.

Other problems came to light,  like the fact that the software for keeping track of the books and borrowers would not be available till September so all the information would have to be entered on one system and then re-entered on the new system in the Autumn. No wonder she wants to keep the stock down for the time being!

Meanwhile the library will be run with  cards. The lady next to me, who came from a nearby village, was most put out about this ( there's too much room for error) but it seemed there was no option.

I asked if there would be scope for a section of books in English and other languages.

"Yes, of course. We already have some," Isabelle said and went to fetch an example from the children's section. It was Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit.

We were asked to write our names, addresses and phone numbers, together with times we would be free to help, on a sheet of paper.

Then came the big question: - what was the library to be called?

Well, it couldn't be called by the name of our village because it belonged to the group. My vociferous neighbour was adamant about this.

Someone came up with 'La Bibliothèque Intercommunale des Plaines et Forets de l'ouest Ardennes.' (what a mouthful!) The librarian pointed out that it wouldn't tell people where to return lost books. The meeting deteriorated into three different discussions.

By now it was 5.30. Two ladies had already departed. I felt it was time I left them to it as well. I wonder how much longer they went on and whether they decided on a reasonable name - or whether they came to any conclusions at all . . . . . .