“There you go,” Matty whispered. “Well done, Gloria.”
Chapter eighteen
Matty sat up on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, as she waited for Gloria to finish breakfast. There was nothing to organise for lunch. Sloan had stocked up over the weekend and there was a ready-made, just-reheat quiche waiting.
She noticed the pad Sloan had scribbled information down on and realised she’d never looked at it properly. Regimented, neat handwriting—the kind that looked as though every letter were written with deliberate care. Legible and beautiful.
It was the list of phone numbers: office, mobile, her secretary, the doctor’s surgery. It also told her which doctor Gloria saw, and when she needed to nap, eat, and take her medication.
Matty pushed it back to where she’d found it and jumped down from the counter.
“All done, Mrs S?” she asked as she turned into the lounge and noticed the empty plate and the satisfied grin on Gloria’s face.
Gloria was looking past the television now, towards the window, where a square of pale spring sunshine had spilled across the carpet.
“I want to go shopping,” she said.
Matty picked up the tray. “For food? Clothes? A quick trip into Come Again?”
“Into where?”
Matty chuckled. “It’s an adult shop,” she whispered. “They’ve got aWet For Herrange now.”
Gloria pulled a face. “What would I wantwith that?”
Matty shrugged. “We all have needs, Gloria. So, what kind of shopping did you want to do?”
“I need new shoes.”
“Alright. Is there a wheelchair?”
Gloria looked unimpressed.
“If you want to walk, you can, but we need to take the chair for when you get tired, because you will until you’ve built up some stamina. So stop being stroppy about it—we’re taking it.”
“It’s under the stairs,” Gloria acquiesced.
“Right, then. I’ll get this washed up and tidied. Do you want to get changed or are you alright going out as you are?”
Gloria looked down at herself. She was dressed casually, and nothing like the way she’d have dressed in her heyday.
“We are in no rush if you want to change into something else,” Matty offered, seeing the cogs whirring in Gloria’s brain. “It’s a nice day. Will be good to get some sunshine on our skin instead of being cooped up in here all day.”
Grabbing her stick, Gloria heaved herself up to a standing position. “I’ll be upstairs.”
“Righto,” Matty said.
She followed Gloria towards the stairlift, detouring to the cupboard under the stairs as though she wasn’t hovering to make sure she didn’t fall.
Gloria paused at the foot of the stairlift, one hand tight around her stick.
Matty hovered by the cupboard door, pretending to inspect the folded wheelchair like she knew what she was doing. “You alright?”
Gloria gave a short, irritated snort. “Do I look alright?”
Matty stood up and gave her full attention. “Honestly? You look like someone trying very hard not to say what she’s actually thinking.”
Gloria sniffed. “And what would be the point in that? Nobody listens anyway.”
