Blessing held her pen up to stop me talking and I shut my mouth. ‘Sorry,’ I said again.
‘It’s a good idea,’ she said.
‘It is?’
‘You don’t think so?’
‘Well, yes, I do. Because that wall is always graffitied, and I thought we could make it look better.’
Blessing nodded. ‘I didn’t know you were an artist.’
I ducked my head, embarrassed. ‘Well, I’m not really,’ I said apologetically. ‘I mean, I sort of was beginning to be, but then, well, I had some trouble with my brother … you know? And now I mostly just work here.’
Blessing looked at me with her chin resting in her hand. I wasn’t sure what she was thinking. But then she smiled. ‘Women need to shout about what they do more often, don’t you think? We are very good at staying quiet about our achievements. Men go on about them enough.’ She leaned over the desk like she was sharing a secret. ‘And most of the time, they have nothing to boast about.’
I looked at her, unsure if I was supposed to answer. She chuckled. ‘Nothing at all to boast about,’ she said. ‘You’re on the top corridor today. And we’re one down in the canteen, because Marie’s off sick, so can you help serve dinner, too?’
‘Oh,’ I said. Did that mean our conversation was over? ‘Yes, of course. Thank you.’
I hurried away, feeling like I’d dodged a bullet and still slightly confused. It was only when I was checking the dinner menus a bit later that I realised I hadn’t actually read the email from the council, and I still didn’t know what it said.
‘Probably another reason to turn me down,’ I muttered to myself. ‘Not having proper permission.’
I should tell Finn, I thought. Warn him that the project was a no-go. I felt a bit sad about not having an excuse to spend time with him after all, but at least he’d still be around. Though summer was coming and didn’t universities have really long holidays? He’d probably vanish after the exams were over and not reappear until October.
Suddenly struck with self-pity I slumped into one of the diningchairs and pulled my phone out of my tunic pocket, planning to message Finn and let him know the bad news. Maybe I’d make it sound positive, like thank goodness it wasn’t happening because I didn’t have time anyway because I was working at The Vine. And that way it was a subtle reminder about where I would be if he ever fancied a drink. I unlocked my phone and saw, with a lurch of nerves, that I also had an email from the council.
‘That’s it, then,’ I said aloud. ‘Game over.’
I jabbed my screen with my finger to open the email and stared in amazement at the first word.
“Congratulations!” it read.
‘What the …?’
With growing astonishment I read on: “Dear Stephanie, thank you for your application for the Presents from the Past community art grant. I’m pleased to inform you that you have been successful. We’d love you to come in and meet the committee and have a chat about your plans. As we’re eager to get things going as soon as possible, please give the office a ring when convenient and we can find a date that suits us all.”
I closed the email and took a deep breath. Was I dreaming? Had I misread it? I opened it up again and read it through once more. No, I hadn’t misread it. The grant was mine. I was going to be able to do the mural, and start my own book, and find Elsie. Blessing’s email had obviously been to tell her the news and now she’d probably told Vanessa and all the other staff would know.
And every time anyone walked past Tall Trees or drove along the road, or trundled by in a bus, they’d see my artwork looking back at them.
‘Oh shit,’ I gasped as the enormity of what this meant hit me. ‘I can’t do this.’
My chest tightened in panic. I’d have to ring them and tell them I wasn’t able to take on the grant after all. And then I’d have to leave. Go somewhere else, so I didn’t have to live with the embarrassment of turning it down. Maybe I could go andlive with my dad in Portugal? But then who’d look after my nan? Who’d visit her and check she was doing okay? My breathing was shallow and my head was swimming. I gripped the edge of the table tightly, thinking of Micah and his strategies for dealing with his anxieties.Focus on your senses, yeah?I remembered him saying.Think about something you can smell, or touch.
I rubbed my fingertips on the tablecloth I was clutching. It was soft cotton that had been washed hundreds of times. I always thought it was silly to use tablecloths when it would be easier just to wipe down the tables, but Blessing said the residents liked them. And right now I was glad of it. I concentrated on the feeling of the fabric under my fingers. Soft, I thought, and tightly woven.
My breathing began to feel more normal. Maybe, I thought, maybe I could do this. Micah would be there to help. And Finn, hopefully. And Tara would do what she could. And frankly giving it a go would be much less humiliating than walking away. I smoothed out the cloth with my palms. And perhaps it could help other people say the things they wanted to say, before it was too late?
‘I’m going to do it,’ I whispered.
‘Do what? Where is everyone?’
I turned in my chair to see Mr Yin standing behind me, looking round at the empty dining room. ‘I’m early for dinner,’ he said in confusion. ‘I think my watch must be fast.’ He shook his wrist and gave me a little grin. ‘Can I get mine now? I’m hungry already.’
I stood up and gestured for him to sit down in the chair where I’d been sitting. ‘Make yourself comfy,’ I said. ‘I’ll get you something to keep you going. Dinner won’t be long.’
‘Thank you.’ He sat down and neatly folded his hands on top of each other on the table. ‘But don’t let me keep you. Didn’t you say you had something to do?’
