‘No way,’ said Tara firmly. ‘What’s going on with that?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m not really feeling it anymore,’ I said vaguely. ‘I’ve not managed to find Elsie, and the residents at Tall Trees are totally not into it. No one’s written in the new book so that’s a non-starter. I’ve not even started painting. The whole thing is dead in the water, Tara. Just like me and Finn.’
‘Really?’ Tara sounded unconvinced.
‘Really.’
‘Except you just sorted out your family troubles because of Elsie. You all said the things you wanted to say. Do you think you’d have done that before you’d seen Elsie’s book?’
‘No, maybe not,’ I said truthfully. ‘But …’
‘But nothing.’ Tara prodded my arm. ‘You’ve seen first-hand how the idea behind the project helps people and now you’regoing to stop other people benefiting?’ She tutted loudly. ‘I didn’t think you could be so selfish, Stevie.’
‘But they don’t want to take part.’
‘Then you have to convince them why it’s a good idea.’ She grinned at me. ‘Plus, if you pull out now, you’ll have to pay back the grant money.’
I’d not thought of that. ‘I’ve spent some of it already,’ I said.
Tara slid off her bar stool and stood up. ‘Well, there you have it. I guess your project’s still on.’
*
I still wasn’t convinced, though. I went home and slept all morning and woke up feeling even less certain about the project. I lay in bed, and called up the contract I’d signed on my phone, reading through the terms and conditions and discovered that, unsurprisingly, Tara was right. If I pulled out now, I’d have to repay the £10,000. I couldn’t bear the idea of going back to having money troubles.
‘Bugger,’ I breathed. Perhaps then I could change the project? Abandon the idea of using Elsie’s book as inspiration and not face the slog of changing the residents’ minds about the new book? Give up trying to find her. I could just do a mural based on the Industrial Revolution or the Battle of Hastings or some other random moment in history, and forget about Elsie and the Blitz.
But I scanned the Ts and Cs again. “The project must be broadly as outlined below,” I read. “Any large-scale or conceptual changes may result in the withdrawal of funding.”
It seemed my hands were tied.
Feeling sluggish and gloomy, I put on my Tall Trees uniform and went into the kitchen to see if Micah had left me any food before I went to work.
*
When I arrived at Tall Trees later on, I found myself scanning the car park for any sign of Finn’s Mini. But of course, it wasn’t there. It was probably still in the garage or at the scrapyard after his accident. I realised I was disappointed.
‘Make your mind up, Stevie,’ I told myself. But the truth was, I was missing Finn already and beginning to think Tara was right. Maybe the good stuff was always a bit scary?
I locked my bike up, averting my eyes from the large expanse of wall that I was going to have to paint, and made my way to the entrance.
As I was going in, two women were coming out carrying boxes. I held the door open for them.
‘Oh,’ said the older of the two, glancing at my name badge. ‘You’re Stephanie.’
‘I am.’
‘I’m Jill’s daughter, and this is my daughter.’
I smiled at her. ‘I’m sorry about your mum.’
Her eyes filled with tears. ‘We’re going to miss her,’ she said. ‘But Blessing told us you sat with her when she’d fallen. And she said it was you who wrote the messages for us.’
I waved my hand, telling her it was nothing. But she put the box she was holding on to the ground and gathered me into a hug, which was unexpected but actually quite nice. ‘Thank you,’ she said as she let go. ‘It was so kind.’
Her daughter nodded. ‘We’ll treasure those messages. It was a really lovely thing to do. So thoughtful.’
I looked over their heads at the bare wall, waiting for my mural, and thought about the empty pages of the book inside Tall Trees.
