‘Oh, bless her,’ I said, feeling guilty. She was prickly and a bit strange, but I resolved to be nicer to her. Starting right there and then, in fact.
I headed for Helen’s room and knocked on the door. She was sitting at her little table in the window. Her room looked out over the road, instead of the garden but I knew some people liked that – they liked watching the passers-by and the traffic trundling along the street.
On the table next to her was the book. She looked up at me as I entered, and then at her hand, which was resting on the cover. I thought she looked as though she’d been crying, but I couldn’t be sure.
‘I’ve got your book,’ she said. ‘There was a bit of confusion in the lounge earlier and I took it for safekeeping.’
‘A kerfuffle.’
A flash of amusement crossed her face. ‘A kerfuffle, indeed.’
‘Did you read it?’ I asked. ‘The book?’
She screwed her nose up. ‘Sure, what would I want with that sentimental nonsense?’
There was a small, slightly awkward pause.
‘Can I take it?’
She pressed her hand down on the book, like she was weldingit to the table, but then she let go and I darted forward, picked it up and clasped it to my chest.
‘Thanks for looking after it,’ I said.
She closed her eyes briefly, as if she didn’t want to see me, then turned her attention to the view out of the window once more.
‘They’re doing a quiz in the lounge, if you fancy it?’ I said.
‘Thank you, but no. I have things to do.’
‘Well, if you change your mind, you know where we are.’
She didn’t reply.
With the book still clutched in my arms, I left her to it.
Chapter 27
The grant money arrived. I couldn’t quite believe it. I kept checking the balance of my bank account to make sure it was still there. And then I immediately opened a savings account and transferred it all so I didn’t have a reckless moment and spend it all on something frivolous.
In fact, the first thing I bought when the money landed in my account – even before I started thinking about buying paint or equipment for the mural – was a book. I’d found one online that looked similar to Elsie’s thick notepad and when it arrived, a couple of days later, I was delighted because it was perfect.
Everything was perfect, in fact. I had the grant money and because it was helping with my living expenses, I could start paying off Max’s credit card bill with my wages. I felt lighter. Happier. More solid than I had since before Max had died. Wasn’t it amazing what a bit of financial security could do? For the first time since he’d scarpered to Portugal, I felt a glimmer of sympathy for my father. He’d had money and then he’d lost it. That couldn’t have been easy.
My meeting with the grant bigwigs had gone without a hitch, because it turned out the woman organising it all was an artist too – see how I was thinking of myself as an artist again – andher father was in a care home, so we had lots to talk about, and she was already talking about expanding the book project to other homes in the area.
So now I was all set. I had the money, I had the book, I was making progress in finding Elsie. Now I had to properly design the mural and get the residents on board with writing messages.
I’d arranged with Blessing to gather the residents in the lounge so I could explain my project properly and let them know what I wanted them to do. I just hoped they’d all want to be involved.
With my spirits high, and the sun shining, I cycled to the home, locked my bike up and ran my eye over the end wall where my mural would soon be without even the faintest twinge of panic. It was like a new beginning, I thought. A new me.
My good mood didn’t even falter when it took me twenty minutes to get all the residents together in the lounge. It was like herding cats, honestly. As soon as I thought I had them all in one place, someone would go to the loo, or to get a cup of tea, or pop back to their room to find some biscuits. It was a nightmare. But eventually, I had almost all of the residents together, custard creams in hand. Even Helen was there, though she refused to sit down and instead lurked at the back, leaning against the wall. I was glad she was joining in, because I was trying to be more sympathetic towards her since Blessing had told me she’d had no visitors.
Feeling nervous all of a sudden, I stood up at the front of the room.
‘I wanted to tell you a bit about my ideas,’ I began.
‘Speak up,’ bellowed Kenny. ‘We’re not as young as we were.’
