Page 19 of The Winter We Met
Gran returned to her chair whilst Nik and I circulated the room. It seemed to be a universally loved movie that made residents feel nostalgic and secure. Even Glenda approved of the sentiments behind the story. Several times I stole looks at Nik as he chatted easily to the residents.
What a genius!
Liver-spotted hands rested on his arm. Behind thick lenses, wrinkled eyes returned his smiles. The familiarity and warmth ofIt’s a Wonderful Lifewas just what Willow Court needed. It even got approval from the contingent of movie-goers, amongst the residents, who loved the modern Marvel comic films and romantic comedies. Nik had brought a notepad and wrote down people’s initial thoughts.
‘As you might know,’ he said, ‘It’s a Wonderful Lifewas released in the mid-1940s. Visiting the Cenotaph this morning really makes my generation think about how everyday life must have been for ordinary families during the hard war years. It must have felt fantastic, in the late Forties, to go to the cinema and escape into a film.’
‘What did you think to the service?’ asked Gran.
‘Very moving.’ Everyone stopped to listen. ‘I’ve never seen a queue like it. We got there early at eight. Time flew until the service at eleven, soaking up the atmosphere, talking to people.’
‘I imagine with your height, lad, you got a great view,’ said Alf.
‘It was great seeing the veterans’ parade. I couldn’t see Prince Charles lay the wreath, but the Queen, William and Kate were on the balcony at the Foreign and Commonwealth office. I took some photos I’ll eventually show to my neighbour, Wanda, back in Sydney. She loves The Duchess of Cambridge – has her on a mug, a plate, a tea towel and even her phone cover.’ His voice softened. ‘Seeing those veterans, it really makes you appreciate what people went through in both of the world wars – losing comrades, family and friends…’
‘I was four when the Second World War ended,’ said Glenda. ‘Never saw my dad – and he never saw me.’
I didn’t know Glenda and I had that in common.
Nik reached over to her chair and squeezed her shoulder.
‘That’s the way it was for many children,’ she continued. ‘Mum did her best afterwards and eventually married his closest friend.’
‘I remember Dad going off,’ said Alf. ‘I’ve always liked St Martin’s Remembrance Service and it didn’t disappoint this morning – it gives me the chance to really think about him.’
‘Didn’t he come back?’ I asked.
‘His body did,’ Alf said gruffly, ‘but his mind was never the same. He was forgetful, suffered from tremors and headaches, and he couldn’t stand loud noises. For years he’d suffer a panic attack on Bonfire Night. Shell shock they called it back then. I wish I’d understood better, when I was a lad, but I found it scary and just kept out of his way.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ said Pan. She studied her nails. ‘I remember my grandmother. Determined she was, that the war wasn’t going to stop her love of fashion. She always wore nail polish – it was the one affordable cosmetic, at that time, and she said it helped ease the horror of having to wear her overalls in the munitions factory.’ Pan smiled. ‘She’d paint on her nylons using gravy juice. As a little girl I couldn’t think of anything more disgusting, but as I got older I understood.’
‘Like Jimmy Stewart’s character inIt’s a Wonderful Life, Wanda’s dad couldn’t do service in the Second World War due to deafness in one ear,’ said Nik. ‘She said the feeling of inadequacy never left him. A little girl once gave him a white feather – she’d heard stories about a white feather campaign where women gave them to so-called cowards who wouldn’t go off to fight.’
‘That’s so sad,’ said Pan.
‘ButIt’s a Wonderful Lifeis a celebration of all the ways people are brave and kind and help each other – often without even realising,’ said Nik. ‘I can’t think of a better theme for a Christmas party.’
‘This is all very well,’ said Glenda. She’d been consulting her phone. ‘But has it fully sunk in with everyone that today is the 8th– the8th– of November? When are you thinking of holding this party? I’ve just been looking at an online calendar. We’ve been told to move out by Tuesday the 15thof next month. This get-together can’t be at the last minute. That means Sunday the 6thwould be the most sensible date. That is only four weeks from today.’
Everyone looked at me and Gran, even Buddy.
‘She’s got a point,’ mumbled Alf. ‘And some of us are bound to have left by then.’
‘I… I hadn’t really thought about that,’ I said. Of course. It was Bonfire Night weekend. Remembrance Sunday. I should have been more aware of the actual dates.
‘We’ve got application forms to fill in. Phone calls to make. Meetings with relatives or social workers and occupational therapists. All of that on top of our usual appointments with health professionals.’ Glenda smoothed down her jumper even though there were no creases. ‘That last week or so will be spent packing. It’s just not possible,’ she said with a satisfied smile.
‘Willow Court is doing everything to see if you can all be transferred somewhere together,’ said Lynn, dark circles framing her eyes.
Glenda gave one of her snorts. ‘Over thirty people live here. Any residential home with that amount of free places can’t be very good.’
‘Hear, hear,’ swept around the room like a slow Mexican wave along with comments like ‘there’s just no point celebrating this year’.
Nik and I crouched by Gran’s chair.
‘Perhaps it’s best to forget it,’ I said. Gran’s eyes looked watery and I passed her a tissue. ‘I hope you aren’t coming down with the cold that is doing the rounds.’
She sniffed and took it. Nik and I stood up.
