The Winter We Met

by Samantha Tonge

  But if that were the case, I’d take over her role. Angela was putting the pressure on at work and we had to find Gran a new home but somehow I’d fit it all in. The Christmas party was more important than ever now.

  15

  Silence fell in the lounge at Willow Court as I stopped the DVD and switched off the television. In the corridor Betty walked past, muttering to herself. Nik came up to the front and stood by me.

  ‘What a movie,’ he said.

  Nik, Oliver and I had turned all the chairs to face the hatch and set the television up on its shelf. Sleet started to fall outside, just as the opening credits rolled. We’d dimmed the lights. Even Glenda stopped moaning about her indigestion. It didn’t seem right watching it without Gran. I dropped into the hospital to see her at lunchtime and the doctor didn’t want to release her yet, not until her blood pressure evened out and her back was less painful. Gran insisted we watch the film without her; told me not to visit, that she just wanted to rest. She’d seen It’s a Wonderful Life a million times before so wouldn’t be missing out and as for the party… Gran just didn’t sound bothered.

  Oliver had brought a range of gourmet popcorn from Misty’s, the promised apple pie flavour, along with a new one supposed to taste of mince pies and a savoury option that tasted just like a Christmas turkey dinner – Buddy did his valiant best to try to snaffle a portion. Nik had brought a bottle of sherry. We’d hurriedly come in, shutting the reception door behind us, wanting to shield the residents from the fact that despite Lynn’s indignant call to head office, the pretty wooden benches from out the front had already been taken.

  ‘What was everyone’s favourite scene?’ asked Pan. ‘I love the one where George and Mary are children and she whispers into his deaf ear that she’ll love him until she dies.’

  ‘For me it’s when the dance floor opens up into a swimming pool and George and Mary carry on doing the Charleston in the water and then everyone else jumps in,’ said Alf. ‘It reminds me of a dance I went to, back in the Forties. I snuck out in Dad’s smart shoes that were a size too big for me. I came out of them whilst me and my Maisie were doing the Jitterbug.’ His eyes shone. ‘But I carried on. She’d thought that was the funniest thing and always said that was the moment she decided I’d be the man she’d marry.’ He got lost in thought for a moment. ‘As the cancer finally started to take her, I’d hum our favourite old tunes. I hope she found that comforting.’

  A collective pause was taken by everyone as they shot him sympathetic glances.

  ‘I love when George is with his daughter Zuzu and she’s won a flower,’ said Nancy, stroking Buddy’s head. ‘When the dead petals fall off and he pretends to make the flower as good as new.’

  ‘It’s the ending for me,’ said Glenda crisply. ‘Everyone singing “Auld Lang Syne” and the community rallying around to help George with his money problems. I do like a film where all the ends are tied up neatly.’

  ‘And the bell rings to let us know that the angel Clarence has got his wings,’ said Pan.

  ‘Just to let you know, Nik’s been brilliant and the photo he took on Tuesday has been accepted by the Amblemarsh Gazette, along with a few words,’ I said. ‘They’ll be running the piece about Willow Court this coming Friday the 20th.’

  ‘Good work,’ said Fred, his usual unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

  ‘Before her fall Gran talked about making dough decorations painted white. She’d make them when working as a nursery assistant.’ When I got old enough to get myself to school she took on an early morning cleaning job as well, plus she stuffed envelopes at home and delivered leaflets. I got my newspaper round as soon as I was old enough.

  ‘Flour, salt and warm water is all you need,’ I continued. ‘Then you knead the dough and roll it out ready for cutting. We could poke a straw through the top of each shape and then they go in the oven for one hour. These could provide themed tree decorations – angels and bells sprayed different glittery colours would suit.’

  ‘Not that angels actually exist,’ said Glenda with a sideways glance at Pan. ‘I always found the film preposterous from that point of view.’

  ‘Who knows?’ piped up Alf. ‘What with the American government hiding aliens in Area 51 there could be a secret angel bunker in Whitehall. Lots of people believe a falling white feather is from their guardian angel.’

  Fred shook his head. ‘Aliens and angels, for real? What a load of bunkum.’

  ‘We could spray pine cones white as well,’ said Lynn hastily. She’d just walked into the room. ‘I always think of It’s a Wonderful Life as the snowiest film I know. I could take a group of you walking into Springhaye Forest. We could collect twigs and holly and spray those as well, to build on the idea of a wintry scene.’

  Everyone talked amongst themselves about ideas for the American-themed buffet and the music that could be played. Nik went to pick up popcorn that had been dropped but Oliver rushed to beat him to it. Then Nik and I mingled whereas Alf and Oliver went to a table by the back window and chatted together in low voices.

  ‘Just one idea I had, before I have to go,’ said Nik, moving to the hatch again.

  ‘Won’t you be joining us for tea?’ asked Glenda who looked at Lynn.

  ‘You’re more than welcome,’ said Lynn.

  ‘No. I have a date,’ he said.

  Whilst everyone made teasing noises my heart lurched.

  ‘With my bed,’ he said. ‘A neighbour took me on a pub crawl last night. I agreed to spurn my sherry for once and try various different types of English beer. I think the last pint of Guinness was drunk around three o’clock this morning…’

  ‘That’s more like it, lad,’ said Alf.

  Nik yawned. ‘Chatting now about memories of family and mates… watching the film in black and white… it’s got me thinking – I thought guests might enjoy seeing a collection of your old photos. I’m sure all of you have got old shots passed down to you from parents. Photos from the Forties and Fifties would be brilliant, showing people you loved, shots of family life and yourselves when younger. We could make a collage using Blu Tack, or simply spread them out on a table. It would really bring to life the era of the theme of the party.’

  ‘I’ve got photos,’ said Pan. ‘Oh, the fashions back then – woolly tank tops and tailored suits for the men… knee-high, tight-waisted dresses for women. And the hats, the updos and pin curls… I’ve got a shot of my mum, looking ever so glam. She was a whizz with a needle. In fact, she still looks great now. Maybe I’ll invite her to the party.’

  A couple of the residents exchanged glances.

  ‘She sounds like a talented woman,’ said Nik easily and he beamed. ‘I’m very much looking forward to meeting people’s relatives. You have your sons and grandchildren to invite as well, don’t you, Pan?’

  ‘My sons… yes, yes, they must come first of course – they’ve been so good to me lately.’

  ‘I’ve still got some of my parents… Dad in his favourite felt fedora hat and high-waisted trousers,’ said Nancy.

  ‘I’ve got some old snaps too,’ said Fred. ‘Reckon that’s one reason I went into the fire service, not that I can see them clearly now – damn glaucoma. Dad was a dispatch rider, Mum a nurse. My gran often looked after me and my brother. It made a big impression on me as a kid, seeing them go off in uniform, and then looking at the photos as I got older.’

  A warm glow of nostalgia spread across the lounge as if happy times from the past were giving the residents a hug. They recalled their childhoods and the cherished photos they had, stashed away, like those of babies in voluminous white Christening gowns, of beach shots with women in modest swimming costumes that looked like short dresses… of Austin cars and street parties… of relatives dressed in their Sunday best.

  Not for the first time Nik had brought the place alive and I couldn’t help but stare at him.

  Neither could Oliver and Alf.

  Glenda had been unusually quiet. Nik seemed to pick up on t
hat as he turned to her.

  ‘Have you got any old photos?’ he asked.

  Glenda shrugged. ‘I have some lovely shots from the farm I grew up on – my stepfather owned it. I can say lovely now. At the time it was a tough, physically demanding life and that’s why I was determined to move to the city when I got older, and work in an office. But I suppose I could rustle up some photos I’m sure any visiting children would enjoy looking at, of our animals, if we’re really going ahead with this party.’ Her brow softened. ‘I think I’ve got one of my favourite cow that I used to milk, Nettie. She used to love a belly rub and scratch behind the ears. She’d always welcome me with a loud moo.’

  ‘Great,’ said Nik and he went over to her and crouched down. Her face flushed bright pink. It amused me a little – Glenda was usually so no-nonsense… yet at the same time I felt pleased for her. She’d never had a boyfriend or companion as long as I’d known her, nor ever been married, nor spoken about a previous partner.

  ‘It’s obvious to me,’ said Nik, ‘that with your organisational skills you’re the perfect person to bring this idea to fruition.’

  ‘Me?’ Glenda’s mouth fell open. ‘I’ve not got time, what with moving… and this party… as far as I’m concerned—’

  ‘For someone with your administrative experience it would take up no time at all.’ He placed a hand on hers. ‘It’s obvious from the smart way you dress that you’ve got a flair for presentation and an eye for detail.’

  She gave a nervous laugh. Glenda unsure of herself? She looked away and picked an imaginary piece of fluff off her turtleneck jumper. ‘Well, if you really think…’

  He squeezed her hand and stood up.

  ‘Everyone, get those photos ready, and over the next couple of weeks Glenda will come knocking on your doors to take a look and pick the ones she thinks are most suitable.’

  Glenda sat up with a jolt, as if she’d just come out from being under a spell. ‘Now wait a minute, I didn’t agree to—’

  He gave her a thumbs-up. ‘You’re a real sport for offering, Glenda.’

  ‘Here’s to Nik – for saving our party,’ said Pan. ‘I don’t know about everyone else, but I feel excited about it now and that’s a much-needed chink of light in what has felt like a dark time.’ She tentatively started singing ‘For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow’ as if she felt she might be doing something wrong. Buddy barked and her expression eased as Nik gave her a wink and everyone else joined in – apart from Oliver and Alf.

  ‘Thanks heaps,’ he said when they’d finished. ‘Although we’ve still got a lot of work ahead of us, to pull this off. Don’t sing my praises too soon! And none of this would be happening without Jess, Alice and Lynn, they’re the people you should really be thanking.’

  ‘This party means a lot to you, lad, doesn’t it?’ said Alf. ‘Why? We’re just a bunch of old codgers – why should you give up your time?’

  Everyone looked at Nik – Oliver, intensely so.

  The skin around his eyes developed red blotches. ‘This is a business trip but also, last week it was the ten-year anniversary of my grandmother’s death,’ he said in a faltering voice. ‘I miss her advice and laughter… and the way she’d always be on my side, even when I got into trouble.’

  The residents nodded.

  ‘Ten years on… I don’t know… the business has been floundering, and whilst she was my cheerleader, she always told me if she thought I needed to buck up my ideas. Our toy company badly needs to become more dynamic and relevant and this trip is partly because of her. It’s what she would have suggested I do.’

  ‘She sounds like my Maisie,’ said Alf.

  Nik’s voice sounded strained. ‘I loved her very much.’

  My throat ached at his openness, at the raw emotion and how he wasn’t afraid of sharing his feelings.

  ‘That’s why I’m more than happy to help. Grams’ care home was first-class and this is just the sort of thing the staff there would have organised. It’s my pleasure to lend a hand and in some small way it kind of makes me feel close to her again.’

  ‘We can do it,’ said Nancy and she punched the air.

  ‘Sod the damn move – let’s make this party one to remember,’ said Fred.

  With a vibrancy that had been lacking of late, the residents got up to make their way into the dining room for sandwiches, with workers in their aqua blue uniforms helping those who couldn’t manage. I wished Gran was here.

  Nik yawned again, looked at his watch and put on his anorak.

  ‘You did well to rope in Glenda,’ I said in a low voice.

  ‘Normally I wouldn’t push so hard but I didn’t want her to feel left out. Everyone seems to have children or grandchildren who’ll be attending – she doesn’t. Perhaps being forced into one-to-ones with everyone will make her feel more like part of this community.’

  ‘And well done for putting Pan at ease,’ I said. ‘She’s never said anything about her mum being alive before.’

  ‘All the time I spent with Grams… I know how stress can make memory problems worse and Pan – like everyone else – is having to cope with a lot of upheaval at the moment.’

  ‘Your gran… it was lovely what you shared with the residents. She sounds like an amazing person.’

  ‘She really was.’ He leant forwards and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Right, I’ll be in touch. Must go now otherwise I’ll fall asleep on the train. I want to have a look around Pollock’s Toy Museum tomorrow, and some quirky toy stores in Camden.’

  Betty appeared by his side as I ran a finger over the skin his lips had touched. ‘Are we going home, Jim? My bag’s all ready. If we hurry no one will notice.’

  He took her hand. ‘I want the house to look spick and span for you, Betty. I need a bit more time to tidy it.’

  She stared for a while. Nik held her gaze. Eventually, she nodded and walked away. Nik left.

  A shiver crossed my back as, once again, I thanked the heavens for sending this man into my life. Oliver must surely realise, now, that he was a great person through and through. I turned to face him, to suggest we get takeout tonight. Not cooking would give me more time to ring the hospital and find out how Gran was doing, and send her a cheery text explaining everything that had been discussed this afternoon. However, I was met with folded arms and the deepest frown as he gazed through the back window at Nik hurrying away in the darkness.

  16

  ‘You’ve hardly spoken since we got home,’ I said. Oliver hadn’t turned on the Christmas tree lights like he normally did as soon as he got in. Not even when I told him the great news that I’d rung the hospital and the ward sister said Gran’s back pain had eased off a little and to ring at lunchtime tomorrow after the consultant’s rounds. I was hoping this might mean she was going to be discharged.

  Oliver, Buddy and I were on the sofa, a cinnamon-scented candle lighting up the coffee table. I was in my pyjamas, Oliver in a jumper and jeans, and Buddy was wearing his widest puppy dog eyes, despite knowing he had very little chance of getting one of the sticky Chinese pork ribs. It was our Saturday night in. Takeout. A dance reality show on the telly. A cheap bottle of wine. We should have been in our element, arguing over who was the best contestant and which of the three of us had snuck the last prawn cracker.

  ‘I’m tired that’s all. Playing Alf at dominoes – it takes all my concentration to keep up. I’m hoping one day he reveals his secret.’ He took a glug of wine. ‘It reminds me of my nanny – our all-time favourite game was called Rummikub. She didn’t believe in letting people win, not even children, but she always encouraged me, taking time to explain the tactics she used. I’ll never forget my sixteenth birthday – I went out with my mates at the weekend, but on the actual day Mum and Dad were away on business so she and I had a games night. I beat her for the first time.’

  ‘That explains why you never let me win at Super Mario.’

  ‘We both know you could thrash me if you put the practice in. Your reflexes are the qui
ckest I’ve ever seen with card games like Snap or Ming.’

  That was one of the first things I’d ever noticed about Oliver – the way he built me up.

  ‘You never kept in touch with your nanny?’

  ‘There was an argument… Mum and Dad tried to blame her for me not wanting to go to university. She’d always told me to follow my dreams whereas my parents focused on the future being all about getting a high-paid job. She was devastated, having looked up to them all those years and left under a cloud of their making. But I still visited her on her birthday and would drop by at Christmas.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘I never got used to calling her Julia. In the end she got cancer.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘I was grateful to be there right at the end, in hospital. She didn’t have any relatives to speak of – said something about a fallout years before.’ He shrugged. ‘One thing I’ve realised, getting older – there’s no such thing as a normal family.’

  We watched television for a while.

  ‘So tonight… you’re just tired?’ I ventured, in between dancing contestants.

  ‘Exhausted.’

  Living with Gran had taught me never to dodge asking difficult questions. She would always answer mine. Like the time I caught her crying on Mum’s birthday. She said she felt sad – like she’d failed as a mother. I gave her a big hug. In return she’d ask straight out why I was irritable if I was having a bad day and we had open discussions about periods and boyfriends. Most of my friends hated it when their parents asked about things like that but I rarely complained. It was nice to have an adult take an interest. Mum had always evaded the truth. After her release from prison, it was weeks before she came around to see me. I’d been nine when she was charged and just turned eleven when she was released. I wanted to know why she hadn’t called straightaway and why wouldn’t she let me visit her in prison? Why she didn’t want to live me with again? She’d said it was hard to explain – that I’d understand when I was older, that we’d talk about it then, but she still kept her distance and now had a husband and stepdaughter.