‘Well, no.’
‘So, I’ll walk you home.’
‘I was going to get the train.’
‘Then I’ll come too.’ He offered me his arm. ‘Billy would be pleased.’
I did not want to take his arm, nor did I want to walk home with him, but I remembered the angry look on his face when Mr Gold had driven past him and I was strangely nervous about how he’d react if I said no. So I looped my hand through his arm, and we walked to the station. Jackson talked all the way, and when the train arrived, and when we got off again, telling me how he was planning to join the ARP wardens so he would be doing his bit, or perhaps he would try to join up again. Maybe they’d let him enlist this time, despite his flat feet. I let his words wash over me. I’d heard it all before and I didn’t really care whether he joined up or not. Though, if he did, at least he wouldn’t bother me anymore.
‘I think that’s a marvellous idea,’ I said.
He looked at me with shining eyes.
‘Do you really?’
‘Absolutely.’
We’d reached the end of my road. I turned to him. ‘Thankyou so much for walking me home,’ I lied. ‘Good luck with it all. Must dash.’
I spun on my heels and raced off along the road towards home, pleased with how well I’d handled him this time.
Chapter 14
Stephanie
Present day
The idea of getting everyone at Tall Trees to do their own version of Elsie’s book stayed with me all through my shift. I thought about it as I helped the residents get ready for bed, and when I popped over to see my nan before the rest of the staff headed home. Then I thought about how I could find out what happened to Elsie. And when I’d thought about that, I started thinking about the mural itself.
And I kept thinking about it as I settled down in the staffroom for the night, one ear listening out for any bells from the residents. Once upon a time I would have had a sketchbook and pencils in my bag, ready for inspiration to strike, but not now. Instead, I dug around in the drawers in the staffroom and eventually I found a paper bag that had one lonely drawing pin in the corner. I shook the pin out and stuck it to the noticeboard, where I found a scratchy biro that was stuck to the board with a fraying piece of string, and sat down at the table. I smoothedout the paper bag and carefully tore it down one side and along the bottom so I had two pages to draw on. And then I picked up the biro, thinking of the tree I’d drawn at home.
I could use similar branches as a frame, I thought, roughly drawing two tall trees on either side of my paper bag. And maybe I could draw Elsie too if there was a picture of her that I could copy. I added the outline of a figure to one side.
And then, perhaps I could pick out some of the words from the book, and add them to the design. Making a pattern perhaps. I drew a sort of rainbow made from nonsense words and frowned. Hmm. Perhaps not. Or flowers? Or anything really. The words were the important bit. I would have to find the perfect notebook and let the residents have it to write their own messages inside. A modern version of Nurse Elsie’s idea.
I felt a flicker of excitement. Maybe, just maybe, this could work.
The alarm on my phone buzzed, telling me it was time to go for a walk around the corridors and check everything was as it should be. It was usually my least favourite time of a night shift, but today I found I was actually looking forward to it. The quiet corridors would let me imagine how the building had looked when it was a hospital. I got up from the table and put my paper bag drawing carefully into my bag. Then, I went off to start at the top of the building and work my way down, as was my habit. As I went upstairs, I typed a message to Finn, knowing it was late and he was probably in bed.
“Going to base my mural around Nurse Elsie specifically,” I wrote. “Have lots of ideas.”
Before I’d even got to the second floor, my phone vibrated in my hand with his reply.
“Amazing. Can’t wait to hear about them. Need to pop to Tall Trees tomorrow actually. Are you working?”
I stopped on the top stair and sighed heavily. No, I wasn’t working. We always had a couple of days off after a night shift. “Not at Tall Trees,” I wrote hopefully. “But I’ll be working in The Vine from 5 p.m.”
Finn sent back a thumbs up. ‘What does that mean?’ I said out loud, pushing through the double doors on to the top corridor. ‘Not helpful, Professor Finn.’
*
As it turned out, though, the thumbs-up sign meant Finn was planning to come to The Vine. I was making cocktails for a group of older women when I saw him arrive. He sauntered up to the bar, pushed his hair off his forehead, and studied the beer pumps with a slightly furrowed brow.
Tara went over to serve him and I tried to catch her eye and let her know who he was. But it wasn’t until Finn gave me a little self-conscious wave, while I handed over the final apple martini, that she twigged.
She turned to me, eyebrow raised and nodded. ‘Nice,’ she mouthed. Then when Finn took his beer and looked round for an empty table, she said: ‘Stevie, it’s time for your break. Why don’t you join your friend?’
I had only been working for an hour, but I wasn’t going to argue. ‘Really?’
