Ginny hoped she wasn’t going to be fussy about her meals for the entire three weeks. “Everything here is fresh, Edna. There’s bread, butter and fruit.” She briskly loaded a small plate and set it down in front of her guest. “It’s all delicious.”
“Yes, lovely.” Edna nibbled on a piece of bread for a while. After placing her large leather handbag onto her lap, she took out several scraps of gray fabric and deftly threaded a needle.
Ginny admired her eyesight. She doubted her fingers were ever as nimble. “What are you making?” she asked.
“It’s going to be a quilt.”
Ginny thought the gloomy fabric would make a bed look like a slab of concrete. “Oh, how clever,” she said.
“Do we have an itinerary for the day?” Edna asked, flicking her eyes between Ginny and her sewing. “Perhaps an interesting excursion? That nice man Gianfranco offers lots of activities at his hotel. He told me all about them, when he collected me from the airport.”
Ginny saw Nico stiffen. Eric, Curtis and Heather looked at her expectantly, awaiting her plan of action. She plucked at the underarm of her blouse, not wanting to do anything or go anywhere until her clean clothes showed up. “I can’t arrange anything for today,” she said. “My luggage has gone missing and I need to wait here for an update. I don’t have any clothes, or makeup, or a phone charger and...” Embarrassingly, she found a lump swelling in her throat so she couldn’t speak. The emotions she’d tried to suppress over the last few weeks were creeping back again.
Pull yourself together, Ginny. These people need you.
Edna lifted her chin. “Perhaps we can all play bingo. Surely, that’s available here?”
Loretta wrinkled her nose and shook her head.
“We can’t swim because there’s no pool,” Curtis said.
“My class recently enjoyed reflexology,” Heather offered, hopefully and unhelpfully.
Ginny felt pressure rising in her chest. For a few moments, she felt like she’d made a terrible mistake by coming here, especially with a bunch of strangers. Perhaps Adrian was right and she was a problem junkie, after all. Maybe it was better to give up on the idea of healing everyone’s heartache, and her own, right here and now. It was a monumental task she had no chance of achieving.
She rubbed the top of her own arm. “I’m sorry I haven’t planned anything for us yet,” she said scratchily. “I just want to wait until I feel clean and human again. Is that too much to ask? Let’s all take some time to acclimatize and reconvene here at lunchtime.”
An awkward silence descended around the table. Loretta surveyed everyone with a slight smile on her lips.
Nico picked up an empty bread basket and tucked it under his arm. “Loretta has too many clothes,” he said. “She can help you.”
His daughter shot him a stare. “Papà!”
Eric toyed with his penknife. He handed it to Ginny on the flat of his palm.
Ginny slow-blinked at it. She didn’t need a knife to feel better, she needed a miracle. Though somehow the offer sparked warmth in her chest. “I believe we’re all here because we’re heartbroken,” she said, looking at each of them in turn for confirmation.
Edna, Eric and Heather reluctantly nodded while Curtis pursed his lips and looked up at the ceiling.
“Then let’s all support each other and plan things together,” Ginny said.
“A democracy,” Eric said quietly.
She stared at him, surprised he’d spoken.
“The main issue with democracy is that people collectively make the wrong decisions,” Edna chipped in.
Ginny ignored her, wanting to explore an idea that was forming in her head. “We all need to try out new things that will keep us busy, that might make us feel better. We can see what works and what doesn’t and can all take turns coming up with ideas.”
“Like a committee,” Nico said.
“Yes,” Ginny said. “That’s it!” She thought for a while before she raised her glass of orange juice. “We can all be a team, together. Welcome to Team Heartache.”
8
Fabric
Edna
