‘Your surname is Talvi, isn’t it? I’ll mention your name in full.’
He nodded.
I checked through my writing one last time and then pushed it over to Nik so he could read the final version.
A Midwinter Night’s Dream
After months of rumours about financial problems, Willow Court Assisted Living, in Springhaye, has finally announced its closure in the middle of December. The new owners, Amblemarsh Property Development, plan to turn it into a thirty-bedroom hotel. Shocked residents were given just six weeks’ notice and gave up on their dream of holding one last Christmas party. However, visiting toy manufacturer Nik Talvi, from Sydney, told them about Australia’s early Christmas in July celebrations and suggested they simply move the party forwards. So delighted residents will now host their party on the night of Sunday 6th December. It will provide them with an opportunity to say a proper goodbye. This year’s party theme is the much-loved movie, It’s a Wonderful Life.
But they can’t do it alone! With just three weeks remaining from today’s press, this is a call for donations for the buffet, for hands to help make decorations and voices to sing carols… anything that brings this American-themed celebration to fruition at a stressful time when the residents also have to find a new place to live.
Let’s help them make this a party to remember!
Please message Jess, on the email below, with your ideas.
‘Something’s missing…’ He crunched a pickled onion and swallowed. ‘I know. Why not ring Alice? – Ask her how much this party means. A personal quote will make the piece resonate more with the community.’
I rang her straightaway. Luckily for us she was running late for lunch and hadn’t gone downstairs yet. I scribbled notes as she spoke and after I’d hung up, re-read what I’d written.
‘Okay. What about this? Seventy-eight-year-old Alice Jagger says, “We’re a right mix of sorts, here in Willow Court, but we feel like one big family. The move’s going to be tough. We may have been ill whilst living here and some dear friends have passed, but we’ve still had wonderful times. This bash will celebrate that.”’
Nik pushed away his plate. ‘It’s a belter. Like you. It’s awesome the way you look after your gran.’
For a few seconds I felt as tall as him. ‘She looked after me growing up. It’s only right that I return the favour now. Mum… had problems, you see, and my dad was never around.’
Nik nodded.
‘She had me young and hardly knew my dad. When he found out she was pregnant he panicked and ran. Apparently he came back, but Mum was with someone else then and told him to get lost. He sent money for a while but we moved house and it stopped.’
‘Jeez … that must have been hard on you, growing up.’
At least Mum never badmouthed Dad, not even when she went on one of her rants about men. Gran had met him once. Said he seemed immature but not a bad lad. Mum simply shut him out. I didn’t know why. That was one of the hardest things about her not wanting a relationship with me now – the lack of answers about my father and about why she found life so difficult.
‘I consider myself lucky, having my gran; it could have been so much worse,’ I said, as my phone vibrated again. ‘She acted as two parents. She certainly vetted my boyfriends as passionately as any father would have. She even grilled Buddy when they first met!’
‘Grams was like that,’ he said. ‘Mum and Dad were more laidback but she’d badger me to meet every new girlfriend and bring them to hers for coffee – even in my early twenties, before she got really ill.’ He smiled. ‘She always said there was no rush to get married but I’m not sure she’d approve of me still being single at thirty-four. If only she were still here, I could tease her that it’s all her fault for scaring off any decent prospects. I could always tell how much she liked someone depending on whether she offered them a second slice of cake. But Buddy… that reminds me… I love markets and after a bit of research visited the Brick Lane one.’
‘In the East End?’ I said. ‘Near Aldgate East tube station?’
‘Yep. Cool place! I’d read about some alternative toy stalls there and it didn’t disappoint. I found one that sold nothing but eco-friendly toys. Junior Magic hasn’t gone down that path yet and it’s really made me think – apart from… I don’t know… a kind of moral duty my family and I are starting to feel, environmentally aware products could really pep up the business. This stall sold cards and jigsaws made out of recycled cardboard and plastic toys made out of recycled water bottles. Also themed games to do with cleaning up beaches or building conservation areas for jungle animals…’
‘That’s so interesting. We stock drawing books made from recycled paper but that’s about it. I’ll mention this to Angela. But what has this got to do with Buddy?’
‘It also sold craft packs. I bought one to look at the quality for the price.’ He pulled something out of his pocket. ‘It’s a charm friendship bracelet. The pack contained a choice of five different coloured bands made from woven embroidery threads and lots of little charms that you sew in, made from recycled plastic. So, I chose a…’
‘Lotus flower, a book, a dog and a heart,’ I said.
He slipped it onto my wrist. As his fingers brushed against the surface of my skin it tingled. ‘This bracelet is about you – the lotus flower – you told me you’re into Buddhism, right? And the book represents—’
‘Gran?’
He nodded. ‘The dog is Buddy, of course…’
I hardly dared ask. ‘The heart?’
He gazed at me with those piercing blue eyes. ‘Maybe you’ve got a secret admirer.’
I felt as light as if I were filled with helium and might float away if someone didn’t pull me back to earth.
As if the universe was answering my imagination, a figure loomed at our table. Oliver? What was he doing here? It was almost two o’clock. He should have just been arriving at work.
‘Jess,’ he said, trying to catch his breath. ‘Seb and I have been trying to ring you. It’s Alice.’
14
Oliver’s car was waiting outside. He dismissed any suggestion that he go back to the bar – said he’d cleared his absence with Misty. Nik stayed behind to pay the bill and type up the copy we’d been working on, before emailing it to the editor.
‘Tell me again what happened,’ I asked, voice shaking. All I could picture was Gran covered in bruises.
‘Lynn tried to ring you and then the shop. Seb called me when you didn’t reply to him either. Alice was drinking coffee in the lounge. She got up to take a photo of Pan with her phone, to send to her sons, who’ve been more worried about her than usual. She muttered something about everything going black, before fainting.’
‘Is the doctor on his way?’
‘No, Lynn called an ambulance. Even though Alice collapsed backwards and the chair broke her fall, she still hit the floor with a thump and when she came around complained of a sore back. Wait, I’ve just felt a text come through.’ He rummaged in his duffle coat’s pocket and passed me his phone.
‘The ambulance is already there. Lynn says to meet them at them at Amblemarsh General. You need to turn around.’ My throat caught. ‘Hospital… that means it must be bad, right? What if…?’
Oliver glanced sideways at me, indicated and turned off the main road. He parked up, in an avenue under a horse chestnut tree and undid his seatbelt, and mine too.
One of the tree’s large leaves tumbled down past the front windshield. Gran was great at planning outings and used to take me conkering. What a thrill every time I opened one of the prickly casings. She was on a budget but always fitted in a yearly week’s holiday in Margate, and trips to the cinema would cost less because we’d smuggle in our own drinks and snacks.
‘Why have we stopped? We need to get going.’
Oliver pulled me towards him and placed his hands on my shoulders. ‘It’s going to be all right, Alice is made of tough stuff – and so are you. Because of her age, the
paramedics probably just want the doctors to check her over. Let’s just sit here for five minutes, you’ve had a shock – we both have.’
‘I… need to hold everything together for Gran. I don’t know what I’d have done without her all this time.’
‘You’d have managed, somehow,’ he said and took his hands away.
I studied his serious face. ‘Did you love your nanny? Like you loved your parents?’
‘I used to ask myself that as a child,’ he said and grasped the steering wheel. ‘God knows I saw her much more than them. Weekends as well.’
‘Did she ever say anything about the way they were?’
‘Just that they were working so hard and travelling with their jobs to give me a great upbringing. It didn’t feel like that. When you’re a kid you don’t appreciate any benefits of private schooling, you just want mates and as little homework as possible. But you see – like everyone else – Nanny was in awe. Not everyone’s boss worked for the Foreign Office. It was as if she felt their status rubbed off onto her. I never felt like that. Their time mattered more to me than money. I wanted an everyday family life with a dog and messy cooking, with walks jumping in puddles and bedtimes stories with hugs.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I guess some might say I was ungrateful, but the new toys, the latest top-of-the-range gadgets, honestly, they didn’t mean much.’
I was always surprised by our common ground, despite us growing up at opposite ends of the wealth spectrum. He switched on the engine and we fastened our seatbelts. Oliver turned back onto the main road. I thought about the bracelet Nik had made and I wondered what sort of charm could represent my flatmate. A cocktail would be the obvious one – if the craft kit were for adults. Or a car – he loved tinkling with the engine. I looked at his strong hands gripping the steering wheel, dependable, just like him. A rock – that’s would be the perfect charm because Oliver was always there.
Like the time I lost my purse and couldn’t get home from London. I’d gone shopping to buy an outfit for a friend’s wedding. I only had a little charge left on my phone and wouldn’t have enough battery to sort out things using my banking apps. For some reason Oliver was the person I felt like ringing. I’d missed the last train and was stranded at King’s Cross, in the dark, about to be turfed out by the station guard.
He rang through to book and pay for a room at a nearby Travelodge. The hotel was great and let me use their telephone to contact my bank’s helpline and get my cards cancelled. They looked up the number for me, online. I was due into work the next day so Oliver came in early on the train, met me for breakfast and then bought me a train ticket home. We travelled back to Amblemarsh for nine. Gran and I told him how amazing he was. He’d shrugged it off and said that’s what friends were for.
Oliver was one of those people who was hard to get to know, but once you broke down the barriers his loyalty knew no bounds. Me, Misty, Gran… and of course Buddy – it was as if, since moving to London, he’d created a new family of his own.
I felt a little shaky as we approached Amblemarsh General. I told Oliver to drop me off – that I’d get a taxi back, but he rolled his eyes and parked up. We hurried to the A&E reception and I gave Gran’s name. A nurse took us through to what she called the Clinical Decisions Area and we were taken to one of the bays, the curtain pulled halfway around it. I rushed forwards. She looked so small, propped up on huge white pillows, hair ruffled. I gave her a hug.
‘What are you doing here?’ she scolded. ‘There’s no need. It’s all a fuss over nothing. I want to go home.’
Lynn moved to the end of the bed. Oliver sat down by Gran and held her hand.
‘Thanks so much for staying with Gran,’ I said in a low voice. ‘What have the doctors decided?’
‘The doctor – a nice man, he really took his time – reckons the stress of the move might be taking its toll,’ said Lynn. ‘And that’s perfectly understandable. Just before she fell—’
‘I got an email on my phone,’ interrupted Gran. ‘And you can stop talking about me as if I’m not here.’ Her cheeks were pale.
‘A shock makes the blood pressure drop. That slows the pulse,’ explained Lynn. ‘The result is less blood – and oxygen – to the brain and that makes you faint. The nurse did an ECG and we’re just waiting for the doctor’s verdict. But I’m sure the test will come back normal, and he’ll say that, coupled with the fact she’s never fainted before, it’s almost certain that an underlying condition isn’t responsible. However, her back’s hurting.’
Gran shuffled on the bed and winced. ‘I’m having an X-ray in a minute.’
She could have fractured something.
‘Who was the email from?’ I asked.
‘Social Services. My assessment for the move is Tuesday.’
‘Try not to worry,’ said Lynn gently. ‘The council is duty-bound to offer you somewhere else to live and Jess is helping you try to find one that’s just perfect.’
Her voice wavered. ‘That email… it all seems more real now. What if I end up somewhere away from you, Oliver and Buddy, Jess? What if none of my friends move to the same place? I… I don’t feel like I’ve got the energy to start over. And…’ She stopped.
‘What?’ I asked.
She fiddled with a button on her cardigan. ‘Nothing. I’m being silly.’
‘Join the club, then,’ said Oliver. ‘I spent a good ten minutes asking Buddy what he thought was causing the bathroom fan to rattle, this morning, and then it dawned on me that he couldn’t help.’
She managed a small smile. ‘I buy the newspapers… The staff at Willow Court are the bee’s knees, they treat us with kindness and nothing is too much trouble. But occasionally you read about horror stories of places where residents are abused and online I’ve watched the secretly filmed videos. I may have no choice if everywhere is full and I don’t want to see out my days being…’ She gulped. ‘Being treated like a nuisance – or even worse, like a child.’
Her eyes filled and not for the first time anger swept through me about the speed with which this closure was happening.
‘That will never be the case, Gran, and you know those cases are very few and far between. Newspapers just love to blow up a shocking story.’
‘Several of my colleagues have relatives in care homes and they can’t speak highly enough of the attentive staff; they say they are real heroes – just like the ones where you live,’ said Oliver and I shot him a look of appreciation.
‘I know. They are true stars – and you’re both so good to me. I don’t like to make a fuss. But I love my view of the canal. My room’s so cosy…’ Her voice broke. ‘I’m trying to put on a brave face, but the truth is… I’m scared. Scared I’ve got no control over this decision. Scared of having to rely on people who… who might not be quite as understanding as the staff at Willow Court. And of being alone – Willow Court runs lots of lovely activities. We have a laugh. What if I’m left in my room a lot? My arthritis is only getting worse. I’m going to lose the little independence I’ve got left as I lose my mobility.’ Her chest heaved and she put a hand over her beaded necklace. ‘That list of directories… it doesn’t tell us the things that matter, like what the food is like and do the staff know how to have fun.’
Oliver stood up and let me have his seat. Firmly, I took Gran’s fingers. ‘Now, you listen to me, you’re not moving anywhere until we give it a thorough once-over. Together we’ll visit and talk to the staff and the residents. You aren’t going to be made to live anywhere you don’t want to.’
‘Jess and me both have cars – wherever you go, nothing will stop us visiting as much as we do now,’ said Oliver. ‘It won’t make a difference.’
‘What if they don’t let Buddy in?’ she croaked. A tear ran down her cheek. ‘Some men turned up with a van today. They took the paintings out of the lounge. Betty got really upset and called them thieves. She didn’t understand. Then they came back in and tried to take—’
‘Don’t upset yourself, Alice. I
gave head office short shrift when I rang them, believe me,’ cut in Lynn, face flushing red. ‘I’ve made it quite clear any removals will have to wait until the last resident has moved out.’
Gran wiped her face. ‘It’s as if our home is being dismantled before our very eyes.’
‘I’ve always got my ear to the ground about other facilities,’ said Lynn. ‘I won’t let a single person move anywhere that I’ve heard a bad word about. If it’s any comfort, I’ve rarely heard a negative word about any of the care homes in this area. For a lot of the people who work in the care sector it’s a real vocation. And I’m talking to the mobile hairdresser I mentioned tomorrow.’
Gran sniffed. ‘It makes you think how upsetting all of this must be for someone on their own, like Glenda and perhaps… perhaps she was right about the party being too much.’
*
Oliver fetched us chocolate from a vending machine before driving himself and Lynn back to work. The X-ray was done and the doctor eventually came back with all the test results. As Lynn suspected, the ECG was normal. So was the X-ray but Gran had slightly bruised her tailbone and it would take a month or so for the pain to completely go. Plus her blood pressure was sky-high so the doctor decided he wanted to keep her in for observation.
I went to bed early, before Oliver got back from Misty’s – after I’d paced around the room for almost half an hour, up and down, over to the window then back to the bed. Seeing Gran like that, vulnerable and afraid, the future a vast unknown, reminded me how I’d felt when the police turned up to arrest Mum, saying something about dealing, me wondering if I’d go to jail too. Gran had got me through that unsettled period. Now it was my turn to get her through this – and do everything I could to make the last Christmas party the best ever was a good starting point. That’s if it went ahead. Maybe Gran would think it was too much work for her to help organise now.
The Winter We Met Page 11
