My ears felt hot.
‘That’s more like it,’ said Gran and she visibly brightened. ‘You know I’m addicted toNeighbours. I hope you’ve got stories about surfing and beach barbecues.’ She pushed herself up, shaking off Oliver’s offer of help. She ran a hand over the top of the armchair. ‘It all makes sense now. The dining room tables have looked knackered for months, with scratches, and legs wobblier than mine. Last year Lynn said new ones were arriving but we got new table cloths instead and they didn’t make them tables look any younger than if you’d tarted me up in a crop top and mini skirt. Then the seated exercise teacher stopped coming in the spring and we no longer have our fortnightly still life painting class.’
‘That’s a shame. You never did get a nude model,’ I said.
Gran managed a laugh. ‘Good thing too. I can’t think of anything more likely to put me off my dinner. You know, I found it hard to get used to the busyness when I first moved here – all the chatter and wandering residents, the singing sessions and bingo nights… the staff doing goodness knows what with hoists and catheters… but the noise grew on me, like a favourite radio station. Yet lately it’s been quieter than a morgue some days.’ She defiantly pushed the tissue up her sleeve. ‘Leaving our home in Cressmead Tower… my stellar neighbours… that was wrench enough. But I got through that and I’ll get through another move. And… and we’ll have to choose a really special theme for this year’s Christmas bash, seeing as it will be Willow Court’s last one.’
‘We’ll help you make it the best ever,’ said Oliver.
‘Nancy and some of the others have started to talk about the festive food they’d like to cook, to contribute to the buffet. Back in January, in the sales, Pan, me and some others picked up a bundle of cheap craft materials like glitter and foil to make our crackers and decorations. Alf, who trained as a calligrapher when he retired, has been writing the invitation cards for us to fill in. He’s leaving the date of the party blank at the moment, until it can be one hundred per cent confirmed. They look right professional. He’s a diamond, the amount of time he puts in.’
Gran pushed her feet into comfy, wide trainers. She’d splashed out on ones with rose gold stripes, saying if she had to wear them all the time she wanted to feel less Paula Radcliffe and more Kim Kardashian. I slipped an arm around her shoulders. Gran slipped an arm around my waist and we headed left, along the corridor, Oliver walking behind with Buddy. Lights automatically flicked on as the sky outside darkened. It was quieter than usual for midday, without the clatter of cutlery and lively banter. We walked past reception and into the dining room area with buttercup walls and a pine floor. The decor had looked a bit tired this last year. A handful of residents sat at tables. Seeing as he was so well-behaved, Lynn always let Buddy in.
‘Salmon with hollandaise sauce,’ I said and breathed in. ‘Followed by crème brûlée by the looks of it.’
‘We had stewed apples and custard yesterday – your mum’s favourite,’ said Gran wistfully.
I wouldn’t know about that.
‘Woo hoo! Alice! Darling!’ called Pan. Despite the time of year, she wore her favourite rainbow-coloured sunhat. Large gold hoops hung either side of her cheeks. Long red nails beckoned us over. ‘Jess! Oliver! How lovely to see you! It’s been ages.’
The three of us looked at each other but said nothing. Pan might have looked dynamic but she wasn’t always on the ball – she’d had other things to worry about lately.
We headed over and she stood up. After she’d greeted Buddy we all hugged.
‘Did you get that email this morning?’ asked Gran. We sat down, around the rectangular table.
‘What email?’
Gran reached across the patterned tablecloth. ‘About this place hitting the duffers.’
The smile dropped from Pan’s face as torrents of rain broke through the cloud. ‘Yes. I… I forgot for a moment – at least there’s one upside to this blasted diagnosis. I haven’t told my boys about the closure yet. They’ve been harping on for me to move in with them, ever since… I won’t be a burden. I can’t see us moving out until the spring. That gives me the chance to make other arrangements.’
Gran squeezed her hand. ‘One thing reaching this grand old age has taught me – you never know what’s around the corner. Maybe there’ll be a last-minute rescue plan and we won’t have to leave at all.’
‘I doubt that very much,’ said a crisp voice. Glenda approached us slowly, in her court shoes and smart, starched slacks, looking as if she’d just walked out of a board meeting, even though she was approaching eighty, had a limp and the top of her spine bent forward slightly. She may have left her highly paid, well-travelled executive past but she hadn’t retired her appearance. Her flawless makeup and co-ordinated clothes were admirable – all top brands, of course. She still fitted the trouser suits and skirts she used to wear to work. Glenda was a woman who believed in herself. In that sense, she reminded me of Gran – although in other ways she couldn’t be more different.
‘I’ve just cornered Lynn and demanded more details. She said it wasn’t fair to give out information that wasn’t concrete. I said it wasn’t fair to keep us in limbo – especially for those who are self-funded or have no family to help them with the onus of finding a new home.’ Her narrow eyes brightened as if powered by obtaining secret knowledge. ‘The deal with the hotel has gone through and the developers are keen to start work as soon as possible.’ Glenda rubbed her hip. ‘It looks as if we’ll be thrown out in the middle of December.’
‘That’s outrageous,’ gasped Oliver. ‘That’s, what, six weeks from now?’
‘Such a shame, isn’t it,’ said Glenda in a voice that implied the opposite, ‘that we’ll have to cancel this year’s Christmas party?’
4
I stared at Nik’s business card, my finger hovering over my phone.
‘I wonder if I should contact him,’ I said, thinking aloud. ‘I felt a bit rude about not being able to say goodbye before he left the shop.’
Oliver and I sat on the sofa in our flat, in front of the television as the credits went up. Ever the diplomat, in between both our feet Buddy snoozed on the floor. I’d needed to put on my pyjamas and chill with Chinese takeout after a busy day at work. One week into November and the Christmas rush had begun. Angela had made me responsible for ordering in this year’s festive stock with minimal input from her, and for the last few months I’d had sleepless nights wondering if I’d chosen the right products. Yet it gave me such a buzz to follow my instincts and see a customer buy a toy I’d chosen. Seb had been brilliant, coming over for dinner so that we could discuss the options.
Oliver had picked up dinner after his shift. It was almost eleven. Gran would have had something to say if she knew we often ate at this hour. But then it was Friday night, even if we did both have to be in work tomorrow morning.
‘Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said,’ asked Oliver. ‘Iwas concentrating on the last episode of thefinalseason of the show we’ve been avidly watching. Did you like the ending?’
‘Um… yeah… it was good…’ I snuggled under my blanket. Oliver never seemed to feel the cold and would laugh at me each night, hugging my hot water bottle despite the heating being on.
‘Jess! How would you know? You’ve been swiping your phone since swiping that last prawn cracker. Buddy probably has a better idea of what happened.’ Oliver stood up and went over to the window. We were one floor up and west-facing which meant enjoying glorious sunsets during warmer months. Oliver drew the maroon curtains closed. They matched the sofa and the rug on the oak laminated floor. The walls were painted a nutty white. The coffee table was made from glass. Working nine ’til five in a colourful, cluttered toy shop made me err towards simplicity with my own interior design.
