Page 48 of The Winter We Met
Lynn and I glanced at each other. She’d never offered much input to the Christmas party, in previous years.
‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘In fact… we could build a structure from twigs to hold the photos you’re collecting. What do you think?’
Pan, Fred and Alf walked together, Fred squinting and pointing out potential tripping hazards with his stick. Lynn and I brought up the rear. I took the dustbin bag from her even though it wasn’t heavy. She couldn’t stop yawning.
‘This walk of yours was a brilliant idea,’ I said. ‘I’ve loved every minute of it, getting fresh air. The toy shop is becoming increasingly stuffy as it gets busier with December approaching.’
‘It’s done me good too. My head needed clearing.’
‘How are you doing?’ I asked gently.
Her eyes glistened.
‘It’s easy for us relatives to forget that you’ve got to move on as well. You’ve been brilliant, Lynn; you’ve really made Willow Court special.’
‘I’ve enjoyed every minute of my time there.’
‘Even when Gran first moved in and you overhead her telling me she thought you were uppity?’
‘I’ve always liked Alice’s feistiness. It so hard… saying goodbye to residents. Not everyone will be here for the big goodbye at the party.’ She kicked a small stone. ‘But that’s life and I know it’s good that some residents have already got plans and are leaving next week.’
‘Like Bert? Gran told me his family have found a suitable care home near to another son, up north.’
‘Yes. It’s a solution everyone is happy with which is great. Decisions like these can cause fallouts between family members. Everyone thinks they know best. And then there’s Dora. She’s moving in with her family temporarily and they’ll see how it goes – her daughter has retired since Dora first moved in here and her mum’s physical needs are similar to your gran’s. She can bear her own weight and most days her arthritis doesn’t stop her enjoying herself.’
‘Like Pan, she’s only just been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, hasn’t she?’
‘Yes. Her daughter wants to look after her for as long as possible, now her situation has changed. A move was probably on the cards, regardless of this place closing down. So it won’t be a disaster for all residents. That’s some small comfort for me.’
We reached the grassy clearing. Glenda let Nik help her sit down even though she was quite capable. Fred, Alf and Pan joined her. Nik stood by another table and put the rucksack on it. Lynn and I went over to him, Buddy running off his lead now. She took out two flasks and clear plastic cups. Nik handed around a foil package containing the slices of fruitcake. Glenda budged up and just as she looked up at Nik, Lynn thanked her and sat down in the space.
Glenda’s face was a picture.
‘Pity we can’t all sit around one table,’ I said, heading back to the rucksack whilst Alf fed Buddy dog treats. I put my plastic bag down there. Nik raised his arm and we clinked mugs before I gratefully knocked back a warming mouthful. ‘How was Birmingham on Monday?’ I asked.
‘Overwhelming! Stall after stall and crowds, even though it was midweek and they have only just opened. I walked past crafts, handmade toiletries and jewellery… then pottery, handbags and knitted items. And I could have spent all day just tasting cheese, eating German sausage or apple strudel.’
‘Did you have a mug of mulled wine?’
‘Along with a hot chocolate and you’ll never guess what I found.’
I raised an eyebrow.
‘A Spanish stall dedicated to sherry. Dry ones and sweet, with detailed explanations of the soil and landscape the grapes had grown in, and something about the different types of flora—’
‘The what?’
‘Apparently that’s a layer of yeast that can be part of the production process. Needless to say, I bought a bottle, but purely for altruistic reasons.’
‘I find that hard to believe!’
‘It’s true! I got talking to the stallholder, Pedro. He said sherry was a well-respected drink in Spain, with a history and tradition. We got talking about Christmas and then…’ Nik chuckled. ‘He pulled a face and said the British put it into sloppy trifle. He saw that as sacrilege. But that’s why I’ve bought it. That pudding sounds delicious to me and I’m going to make one for the Christmas party – so the sherry isn’t just for me.’
‘Sherry, mulled wine, hot chocolate – this was a business trip, right?’
He gave a bellow of laughter. ‘Yes – on a more professional note the choice of wooden toys was just incredible. One stall sold vertical stacking puzzles that, when completed, made an object such as a rocking horse. So yes… there was food for thought as well as for my stomach.’
‘You could do a practice run of the trifle at my flat if you like,’ I said. ‘Gran used to make them when I was younger – minus the sherry for me.’ In any case, back then, I couldn’t bear the smell of alcohol and as I grew up I filled my living spaces with the smells from perfumes and scented candles.
