Suddenly I’m no longer nervous. Waitress or proprietor no longer matters, I’m Leonie who can make people their favourite drinks.
“If you’ll take my recommendation, how about almond tea. It’s a smooth Ceylon tea with a touch of roasted almond.”
“Sounds lovely.” She gives me a grateful smile as if for a moment she feels welcome.
I leave them to continue the interview, by the look of the intense conversation, Evan is being very thorough. When I bring her tea, and Evan’s coffee, I add a plate of cinnamon shortbread biscuits.
“Don’t eat those,” Evan warns. “You don’t want to spoil your lunch.” Then he looks up at me. “Do you still have those delicious sausage rolls?”
“Of course.” Things must be going well if he wants her to stay for lunch.
An hour later, I report all this to Raff.
“I think we’re going to have a beautiful garden sooner than expected,” I tell him. Evan invited her to lunch.”
“You made lunch?” Raff glances down at me as he pushes open the double doors into the west wing. “Look who’s hit the ground running.”
“Stop talking about me and show me the new accommodation.”
“Nag, nag.” He jokes then leads me down a gleaming white corridor. The west wing is much bigger than the south or the east where I live. The walls are a soft cherry blossom white (that’s what it said on the tubs of paint I saw being delivered a few weeks ago.) but all along there’s a border of jade-green mosaic tiles. “Inspired by some of the mosaics Alex has been restoring. This pale green and the royal blue are the Kendric colours.”
Raff is usually a phlegmatic man who keeps his thoughts to himself. But I’ve learnt to read him better and there’s no missing the pride and excitement in his voice. The way he opens one door after another to show me the rooms.
Oh wow. Wow, wow, wow. Compared to the dingy, cramped accommodation at The Glyn, the rooms make my heart dance with joy. For a start they’re not really rooms.
They’re more like mini suites. Huge room with high ceilings and private bathrooms. I walk around the next one, checking the furniture. An arch separates the sleeping area from a cosy sitting alcove with fireplace. It’s a fake fire, one of those electric things that look like the real thing. “If people don’t want to go out, they can sit here, even have their food.” Raff points to the round dining table, enough for two or even three to dine.
“You imagine they’re going to have romantic meals?” I ask thinking of Bill and Vanessa. Their connection has been increasingly obvious.
Raff shrugs. “Why not? Look at the wardrobes.” He opens on to show me how the hanging bar can be lowered so it’s easier to reach.
Everywhere there are handles, and grab rails. We stop by the bed and Raff demonstrates the remote control to adjust height and recline of the bed. “We hired a specialist mobility consultant,” he says. “Worth every penny because there are so many things to consider. The rule of thumb is the more support you provide, the more your residents can be independent.”
I stroke a hand over the upholstered safety rail. “I thought it would look more like a hospital bed.”
“Absolutely not.” He looks horrified. “What a way to make people feel worse. This has to look like a real house. A cosy, comfortable cheerful house. Now come,” he says taking my hand. “The piece de resistance is in the bathroom.”
He’s so excited about this, he almost drags me in his eagerness. In the bathroom, apart from the usual, there’s a bath that doubles as a whirlpool hot tub. It has a door to get in and Raff demonstrate how someone could sit inside, seal the bath and turn on jets of hot water. “And see, this little shelf to put a book or a drink,” he points to a chrome shelf with smooth edges. “You can even hang a small towel on this hook to dry your hand before picking up your book.”
I look at him touch everything, making sure the wheelie towel and loo roll trolley slides easily, the medicine cabinet, the lighted mirror with make-up rack. “How long have you been planning this?”
He turns to me, suddenly self-conscious. “Not quite planning, but all of last year at The Glyn, I’ve been dreaming of a better kind of place. A truly beautiful retirement house. I just didn’t know how to make it happen.”
Unlike me who shouted and raged, he’d been quiet and serene. I never knew he had so much fire inside him. And nowhe’s made this miracle. How much do I love this man? SO much that if he knew it would scare him away.
I walk away towards the wide picture window.
“What are you thinking?” he asks by the bathroom door.
“That I can’t wait for the Squad to get here tomorrow,” I lie, my gaze on the garden outside. “I just hope my lunch will be good enough?”
“Good enough?” he walks up behind me and places both hands on my shoulders. “What the hell are you talking about? You could serve dry toast and it’ll still be better that Mrs Jenkins’ catering.”
“Don’t.” I cringe at the memory of the nasty woman.
He’s silent for a moment, then, “Say what you like about her, she was right about you.” He rubs his hands down my arms. “You did turn The Glyn upside down.” He kisses the top of my head. “You’re not just a pretty face.”
“Shut up.” I warn him.
