‘She’s made good friends there?’ he said and accepted a third biscuit.
‘Oh yes. Flamboyant Pan is her closest. Then there’s Alf – he’s a lovable rogue. And Nancy is always so cheerful despite the challenges of recently having to use a wheelchair.’
‘It sounds like a lovely place.’
‘I’m visiting tomorrow after work. You’re welcome to join me,’ I said in a jokey tone.
Seb’s head appeared around the door. ‘Sorry to intrude but things are getting busy out here – it’s as if the whole of Springhaye suddenly thinks Christmas is in two days and not two months. And there’s a phone call for you, Jessie.’
Nik looked at his watch, stood up and shot me an apologetic look. ‘Sorry, Jess, I’m getting in the way.’
‘Not at all – it is my day off but I really ought to help out. Unpaid hours – now there’s a perk of moving out of your comfort zone.’
We both smiled and he followed me as I hurried out of the staff room and went to the phone by the till.
‘I won’t be a minute,’ I said to Nik as he picked up his rucksack and gripped his pull-along case. I put the receiver to my ear, surprised to find it was Gran. My mobile was still on airplane mode so she’d had to ring the shop instead of my personal number. Her voice sounded all choked up. I turned away from the shop floor, heart racing as she kept on talking. Feeling sick, I eventually ended the call and turned back but all that was left of Nik was his business card on the counter.
3
Gran read out the email she’d received over the phone that evening. Oliver saw my expression and insisted on accompanying me to visit the next day. As did Buddy – for him the wordsWillow Courtmeant countless tickles and dog treats. Gran’s hooded eyes met my gaze as soon as I walked in and rushed over to hug her. I’d never get used to her being smaller than me.
‘Que sera, sera,’ she said in a resigned tone. She clutched a tissue but her cheeks were dry. I couldn’t ever remember seeing her cry. Stiffly she lowered herself into a brown armchair that she’d covered with a colourful throw. I sat on the bed. Oliver joined me after kissing her on the cheek – a kiss that would have normally pinked up her face. Even though he frequently beat her at cards, Gran always said what an appealing young man he was, with his athletic build, tawny crew cut and caring attitude.
Or rather, on the quiet, with a mischievous grin she’d tell me he wasa right sort– and I’d tell her she had to stop picking up new words fromLove Island. However, I had to agree and often wondered if it was normal to admire your flatmate… your friend… when he came out of the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist. I concluded it was. It didn’t mean anything. I thought Seb was good-looking. It didn’t mean I fancied him.
Gran’s room was furnished in a welcoming way, with warm laminate flooring and floral curtains. Photos of me and her last dog, Buster, stood on the windowsill, along with a higgledy-piggledy stack of books – Gran was supremely grateful for the mobile library. The room had a spotless ensuite bathroom and she still saved leftover bits of soap to make new bars.
‘But why… I mean… how…?’ I shook my head and pulled off my hat and scarf. Outside, clouds tried to crowd out the ambitious sun. ‘I can’t believe it – Willow Court… closing down for sure?’
‘They couldn’t even give you a date or tell you in person, with a relative at hand for support?’ Oliver shook his head. ‘But don’t you worry – we’ll see you through this, Alice.’
Gran stroked Buddy’s cheek, running a hand across the Labradoodle blonde curls that Oliver joked matched mine. His chin rested on her jogging bottoms and her forehead smoothed out as those brown doggy eyes stared lovingly into her face.
‘Lynn didn’t want to worry us,’ she said eventually. ‘But since the summer we’ve all heard the rumours of financial problems. It’s tough for her too, losing her job as warden. Perhaps she was in denial. They’re saying the money troubles got worse over the last few weeks and the owners now find themselves in a pickle. Apparently some of the facilities are considered outdated, as well, and they just haven’t got the money to re-equip the place to the necessary standards. A hotel has put in an offer and they’ve snapped that up. In a few months’ time some fancy, schmanzy business type could be enjoying my view.’
Gran glanced out of the window. It always looked grubby lately. She focused on the river, just as rain began to fall. Long grass edged its banks, sprinkled with the delicate colours of wildflowers in the summer. Willow Court was an attractive building – red brick and sprawling like a ranch, all the rooms being ground floor. It was dual-registered, meaning it was a residential care home but had a nursing care wing as well. Some rooms were paid for publicly, other were self-funded, depending on a particular resident’s circumstances. Cash-strapped Gran had been lucky to get a place here. A barge glided past bearing jolly flowerpots and then went out of view behind a huge weeping willow. She often waved to holidaymakers. One time a man responded with an impolite gesture. He lost his balance when Gran sent back the same. When she’d told me about him falling into the water, we’d both laughed until it hurt.
It took a lot to upset her. Or it used to. It was hard observing the change. When you’re in your teens and scolded for not eating your greens you never imagine that, one day, the lines of dialogue will be swapped over.
‘Let me read the email again,’ I said and took her phone. ‘Honestly. It’s not good enough. They should have at least tagged me in.’
‘Lynn was furious,’ said Gran in a flat voice. ‘She said there was no protocol for this kind of situation but it was just common sense and compassionate to involve relatives.’
My eyes scanned the words. ‘Right. So the council is duty bound to find you another place, seeing as they pay for you to stay here. We’ll be given a directory of homes and can research them ourselves and visit, and express a preference as to where you go although that can’t be guaranteed – and any choice mustn’t cost more than Willow Court… blah blah… Your mental and physical health will be reassessed…’ I looked up. ‘Of course, I’ll be with you every step of the way, Gran, at all the appointments and we’ll arrange visits together – that goes without saying.’
‘You’re a good girl,’ she mumbled.
Oliver took the phone and skim-read the screen. ‘We should ring that helpline.’ He clicked on the link. ‘Its website says that closures at short notice are rare but…’ He shrugged. ‘They happen.’
‘Come on. Let’s go down to the dining room. I smelt fish on the way in.’ I laid my coat on the bed, next to Oliver’s, and stood up.
‘Not hungry,’ muttered Gran. ‘I hardly even noticed when my breakfast was late this morning. But before you say it, Missy, I know things aren’t going to feel better on an empty stomach. Isn’t that right, Buddy, my handsome boy?’
He barked.
‘I’ll tell you all about a very nice man I met on the aeroplane yesterday. He’s from Sydney.’
Oliver gave me a sideways glance. ‘That Nik you couldn’t stop talking about last night?’
