‘God rest ye merry gentlemen,’ he began to sing. He had a nice voice, clear and tuneful. One by one, the rest of the airmen joined in. It wasn’t always in tune, and some of them didn’t know all the words, but it was the nicest carol I thought I’d ever heard.
As they finished singing, I clapped madly and the other nurses all joined in. ‘You’re all full of Christmas spirit already,’ I said. ‘Thank you all.’
‘Will you come and see us on Christmas Day?’ asked Malcolm.
I answered him but it was Harry I was really talking to. ‘Just try and stop me,’ I said.
I found Nelly waiting for me just inside the main hospital entrance.
‘They sang carols for me,’ I said as I approached. ‘The lovely airmen sang.’ She turned to face me and I saw she was looking cross and harried, which was most unlike her. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘I just saw that Jackson,’ she said.
I threw my head back in frustration. ‘Here? At the hospital?’
‘Think he’s come to meet you?’
‘He knows my shifts,’ I said, looking out at the dark sky and shaking my head. ‘He is always there. Everywhere I go. And I know he’s looking out for me, but it’s so annoying. I’m fine. I don’t need him.’
Nelly made a face. ‘He annoys me and I’m not the one he’s following around like a lovesick pup.’
‘Urgh, not lovesick,’ I said with real force. ‘Oh gosh, do you think he’s lovesick?’
‘He’s something all right.’
‘Oh, Nell, what should I do?’
‘He’s not here now, is he?’
I looked around. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Then let’s walk home as fast as we can, and try to stay out of his way for now.’
We wrapped our coats round us a little tighter as we went out into the dark, cold evening.
‘I’m so pleased I’ve got you, Nelly,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘Same here.’ She nudged me with her shoulder. ‘Now tell me about these carols.’
Chapter 17
Stephanie
Present day
‘Honey, I’m flattered you’re asking for my help and of course I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sure I can be of any use.’ Tara held her hands out, as though she was the one begging for support, and shrugged. ‘I’m a bartender, not an artist.’
‘I don’t need you to paint,’ I said, with a chuckle. ‘I just need you to helpmepaint.’
‘Clean your brushes?’
‘Stop it. You know what I mean. I’m hopeless by myself; I need you to give me a shove when I’m struggling to get started, or to put a sketchpad in my hand.’
‘Shut up,’ said Micah mildly. He was sitting at the table with Tara and me. I’d summoned them both to an emergency meeting to discuss me getting the grant and actually having to put my ideas into action. Now he looked at me and shook his head. ‘You’re not hopeless. You look after all them old people at that home, and your nan. And you work here and that. And you help me all the time.’
Embarrassed and touched by his praise I kicked him under the table. ‘You shut up,’ I said with affection.
‘The kid speaks sense,’ Tara said. ‘You’re more than capable of pulling this off alone.’
