Page 82 of The Winter We Met
‘Lapland?’ said Alf and his jaw dropped. ‘I thought you came from Finland.’
‘I do – but Lapland specifically. It’s a region that covers Finland, Sweden and Norway and my family come from the Finnish bit.’
‘Of course,’ muttered Alf, clearly thrilled. He pulled out his notebook and scribbled.
Don’t meet Alf’s eye,I told myself sternly.Don’t do it. You’ll only laugh.
Oliver and Alf headed off to the stone painting table. Next to that I noticed a table bearing a large triangular frame made of twigs, to mount the photos. Glenda was putting down a spray can. It looked fantastic. The smell of baked sugar wafted over from the hatch. Someone must have been practising making All American cookies. Lynn was in the far corner with a small circle of residents around a sturdy man holding a saxophone – he had the same shaped nose as her and must have been her brother, Geoff. He’d been due to come in to take suggestions for the party playlist of Big Band solos he was going to perform. Bursts of songs kept bouncing across the room, drowning out the background CD, and brought to mind lyrics such as chestnuts roasting over open fires. A group of scouts drank squash and ate cookies that residents were baking. They listened to Fred chat about his days as a firefighter. Their pack had raised over three hundred pounds to contribute to paying the caterers by doing bag packing at a large out of town supermarket, last weekend, and the tree was being delivered today. Gran thought it would be a nice idea to invite them in to help decorate it.
I was glad for the festive buzz, the bustle, the red and green tinsel Lynn had already hung across window frames, because despite continued protests Willow Court’s owners had removed more things that made the place feel like home, albeit the smaller ones like the paintings of vintage scenes.
‘How was your haunted pub tour?’ I asked Nik.
‘Fantastic! I never knew so many ghosts roamed London’s streets.’
‘You believe in them, then?’ I poked him gently in the ribs.
‘Just because you can’t prove something, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.’
‘Scientists might disagree.’
‘I don’t know about that. In 1974 Stephen Hawkings theorised that black holes eventually evaporate away. Yet this wasn’t finally proved until 2019.’ He pulled a sheepish face. ‘Sorry. I’m a bit of a cosmic physics nerd. Don’t you just find the sky and its contents fascinating?’
I thought about Alf and his theory.
‘Hello, Jess. Lovely to see you.’ Glenda didn’t give me the usual suspicious peer over the top of her cat-eye glasses.
‘You too… how did you find Darkthorn House?’
‘Loved it, didn’t you, Glennie?’ said Nik.
Gran came over at that moment and I kissed her on the cheek. She held the clipboard with a pen attached to it. In the last couple of days, she’d started to draw up a final check list for the party and read it to me over the phone making sure she’d covered all the people who’d emailed me with offers of help. I’d been relieved that, as each day passed, her low mood over the home’s closure continued to disappear.
‘Did you mention Darkthorn House?’ she said. ‘Glenda has accepted a place there, so has Fred and I think Nancy will too after my recommendation. She’s going to visit it tomorrow.’
‘That’s fantastic news!’ I said.
‘The staff seemed very efficient and everywhere was clean,’ said Glenda. ‘The other residents looked happy and Alice and I have been looking at the activities… there is a great choice but no book club. We thought we might set one up. It was Nik’s idea.’
‘I think Glenda is a little put out she doesn’t have a goldfish though,’ said Gran, eyes twinkling.
I waited for Glenda’s offhand superior expression – a comment about animals not being hygienic.
‘Maybe in time I’ll buy one.’
‘Really?’ I raised my eyebrows. ‘You’ve never struck me as pet person, Glenda.’
‘Tell them about Gabby,’ said Nik. I remembered him mentioning that name when I said she’d never talked fondly about a loved one.
Glenda took her hands out of her navy cardigan pockets. ‘Gabby was such a good companion – although you are right, Jess… there was a time I never thought I’d own a pet. Especially a cat or dog that might shed hair or make a mess… However, Gabby chose me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She followed me home from the local newsagent’s one night. It was soon after I’d retired. I would have ignored her but she was missing her back right leg. An old injury by the looks of it but…’ She shrugged. ‘I guess her following me brought back my happy life on the farm growing up and my favourite cow, Nettie, who would trail after me in the fields.’
‘Did this Gabby belong to someone?’
‘Yes, although you wouldn’t have thought so. She was practically feral at the start and I had to handle her with gardening gloves. The Cats Protection League tracked down her owners who were only too happy to get rid. Such a pretty little jewel she was – a tabby with fern-green eyes and a white bib. Eventually I put a cat flap into my cottage’s back door and after a couple of months she accepted I would never hurt her – that she would always be loved and fed. She was excellent company and used to talk back to me.’ Glenda blushed. ‘I suppose that sounds silly.’
