Escape to the Country

Chapter 9

9

The following morning, when I arrived at the farm, Uncle Tom raised a hand in a wave.

‘Beth’s in her bedroom, darling, go on up,’ he yelled before heading for the doggy daycare. I was so happy when I called him last night to learn that she had been given the all clear to come home. Alex had arranged to pick her up so that she didn’t have to get into Uncle Tom’s smelly old Land Rover. I was glad to hear this – I was sure she could have picked up all sorts of infections from it.

Breathing in the old familiar smells as I entered the farmhouse felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around my shoulders. I headed up to Beth’s room and used the hand sanitiser before knocking on the door. ‘It’s me, babe, are you decent?’

‘As decent as I can be right now. Come on in.’

Beth was looking much better and said she felt a million times brighter being at home in her own environment.

‘And look at you, Mads. You are full of enthusiasm and spark. Your cheeks are red and your eyes are sparkling. I haven’t seen you like this for a very long time and it’s so great to see. I’m so pleased you enjoyed my little community jobs. I love my business but it’s great to get out and about and help people too. I didn’t know what to expect when I started, but I immediately loved it.’

‘I feel great, to be honest, Beth.’ I hadn’t realised that for myself until she just said it, but I did feel better than I’d felt for a long time. I felt at ease with the world, lighter than I’d felt for a while.

Beth turned the volume on the bedside radio up. ‘Hallelujah’ by Leonard Cohen was on and we smiled and swayed to the music as we remembered how we used to sing it at school. We sang along, remembering every word.

The school choir was always my thing. I had loved to sing from a very early age and I’d joined a choir after university but then work got in the way. I’d be in a different part of the country and unable to get to practice and I couldn’t keep letting the others down, so I gave it up and hadn’t sung properly in a choir for a very long time.

‘You have a beautiful voice, Maddy. You always have.’

‘Aw, Beth, that’s so kind of you to say so. I’m a bit out of practice, to be honest.’

‘Well, it’s funny you should say that. I have another little job for you to do at the weekend,’ she explained as she handed me a piece of paper and a CD. ‘This is a backing CD and all you have to do is turn up at Meadow View Care Home at twop.m. next Saturday afternoon. The address is here. You need to phone ahead and speak to the activities co-ordinator to discuss what you are going to sing.’

‘Sing! Me? In public? You are kidding, right?’ My lips pressed together and I grimaced. The only singing I did these days was in the shower. My breathing was starting to speed up again and that familiar pounding of my heart seemed to be getting louder and louder in my body.

‘Darling, you have the voice of an angel and you know it. I haven’t heard you sing for years. They have a piano there, so you’d better brush up on your keyboard skills too.’

‘But-but…’

‘But nothing, Maddy. Haven’t you always trusted me? Have I ever once let you down in my life?’

‘Well, there was that one time you kissed Martin Bennett when you knew I fancied him.’

‘Darling, we were ten and at school. And I’ve always told you that he kissed me, not the other way round. So I’ll ask again, do you trust me?’

‘Of course I do, but?—’

‘So please trust me again. I would never get you to do something unless I was sure you’d end up loving it. You know that.’

My breathing started to steady and I realised that what she was saying was true. Even though I hadn’t always been around for her, she’d always been there for me.

‘Look, Maddy, I know we haven’t seen much of each other over the last few years, and I know that you found it difficult to come back to Giddywell for a while, but I hope you feel differently now.’

‘Thank you, Beth, I really do appreciate that. I can’t explain very well why I stayed away. I just felt like a complete failure when my relationship broke down. Giddywell was always my happy place and I didn’t want to poison it with my grief.’

‘Oh, darling, please don’t ever feel like that. Giddywell is always a place that I hope you feel you can come back to. Anyway, I asked you before, do you trust me?’

‘OK, OK.’ I held my hands up in surrender. ‘I trust you. But I may have to wring your neck if I make a fool of myself.’

She smiled and held my hand. ‘You are silly, darling; you could never make a fool of yourself. You are too lovely. I just wish you could see what I could see. And it’s not like it’s a full-blown concert on a stage. It’s just a few old people in a nursing home. Now if you really love me, I could murder a cup of tea.’

* * *

Back in the farmhouse kitchen, Uncle Tom popped his head round the front door to say a proper hello to me. ‘How are things, Maddy, darling?’

‘Oh, you know, I’m getting there gradually. Just need to sort out my finances and work out what I’m going to do with the apartment.’

‘Why’s that? I thought you loved your lakeside space.’

‘I did, but I don’t any more and to be totally honest, I’m really not sure it’s wise to be spending the sort of money I do on rental there every month now I’m not working. My redundancy money is going to run out eventually and I really need to find a job.’

‘Well, hopefully now Beth’s back home and we don’t have to keep nipping out to the hospital, we can work out some proper structured hours here for you, instead of doing a few hours here and there, but only if you want to, of course. Beth’s critical illness insurance has given us a bit of breathing space over at doggy daycare and we just need to sort out the other farm jobs and work out what needs doing. Perhaps we could sit down later and do that. The other thing I wanted to mention was that the couple renting the barn conversion are moving out on Friday and I need to find some new tenants. You don’t know anyone who might be interested, do you?’

‘It would be great to sort out proper hours and get some structure back into my life. I feel like I’ve been floating around aimlessly for the last few weeks. It’s been really strange after years of working every single day. I’ll mention the barn to Mum. I blooming love that barn. I remember when you renovated it. So beautiful. She might know someone who’s interested. She’s more aware of what’s going on in the community than me.’ I handed him a cuppa and went back upstairs with our drinks and a packet of biscuits tucked under my arm. ‘I’ll pop over later and give you a hand settling the dogs down for the evening if you like.’

‘I need to show you what we do with the chickens too. You are wonderful, darling. We have missed you being around the place. See you in a while. Don’t rush, it’s not busy and I know that Beth loves having you sit with her.’

* * *

When I got back to the flat that evening, I rang and spoke to Hayley, who was the activities co-ordinator at Meadow View.

‘Oh, Madison, I’m so pleased to hear from you. We can’t wait for your performance on Saturday. Now, I believe you’ll be singing songs from across the decades for our residents. They are going to love that so much. Is it OK if we aim for two half-hour slots and see how it goes, with a cup of tea and a bit of cake in the middle? That way it’s not too much for the older residents.’

My heart sank; I hadn’t sung in public since I’d left the choir all those years ago. I knew she said it would only be to a few people, but what on earth was Beth making me do? She really was pushing me way outside my comfort zones just lately. She knew that I’d got myself into such a tizzy years ago, before I went on a stage to sing at school, mainly because they used to give me the solo parts, whereas when I was in the choir, I was just one amongst many people who loved to sing. I knew there probably wouldn’t be a stage at this venue, but it was still a massive thing for me to do. I’d be drinking a whole bucketful of Rescue Remedy before I stepped foot inside that care home on Saturday.

‘Just let me know if you’d like the piano at all, or whether you’ll just bring an amplifier and CD player with you, if you would, please, so we can organise it all for you. You’ll be singing in the day room and there will be a few of the residents and the staff.’

‘The piano would be fabulous, thank you. And I’ll bring some backing tracks with me to play on my laptop too. I’ll judge it on the day and see what they prefer and I’ll alternate between the two if that’s OK.’

That also gave me a bit of breathing space to see whether I was more comfortable with one more than the other, but I didn’t share that. I’d checked out some Facebook groups and it had been recommended that I bought a cheap amp and microphone, and as someone was selling one for a great price, I snapped it up. If it sold that easily, I was sure I could put it back out for sale if I didn’t use it again.

‘Perfect, well in that case, we’ll see you on Saturday. Thank you again. We’re very much looking forward to it.’

She rang off. I was glad. She could probably have heard my heart thumping from where she was.

I popped the CD into the CD player in my lounge. The dulcet melody of ‘Moon River’ started to play and a smile spread across my face as my heart warmed and memories of times gone by came flooding back. I remembered Mum singing this when I was not much older than five or six. I adored the film Breakfast at Tiffany’s . It was still one of my favourite films, although I hadn’t watched it for years.

Mum taught me everything I knew about music when we used to sing around the piano in the dining room. She had a beautiful voice and as a child I was fascinated by the way her fingers danced across the keyboard. Thank goodness I inherited her musical genes and also became a competent pianist. I used to wonder from time to time about my father and whether he was musical too. It was strange – I hadn’t thought about him for years but he seemed to be on my mind a lot lately.

It had been ages though since I’d played properly. I wondered if Mum still played. I hadn’t heard her for years. If not, perhaps she’d loan me her old piano so I could start to play again. Although I had no idea how we’d get it up the stairs of the flat. Like the singing, I only really gave up playing when I became busy with work and hadn’t had time to be at Mum’s. And busy was something that I absolutely was not these days. Perhaps that was why I’d been thinking about my father a lot too.

Flicking through the backing tracks, I noticed ‘Que Sera Sera’ by Doris Day, ‘Getting to Know You’ from The King and I , ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ and ‘My Favourite Things’ from The Sound of Music . Some of my favourite songs that we used to sing in the school choir that Beth had clearly picked to remind me of a time when music was everything to me. Thinking about them now brought back such fond memories. There were a few that I could probably still play but I’d have to rehearse first. I counted the days till Saturday. I needed to pull my finger out and start practising.

Beth’s note said that she’d picked some songs to start me off, but that it was up to me to find some more, so I set the rest of that afternoon’s task, as I had nothing else planned, to search for more tracks that everyone would know and hopefully get them foot-tapping and singing along to. Now I’d listened to the tracks and sung along to the ones I knew the words to, I was actually starting to look forward to this project. I found it bizarre that I could remember the words to songs I knew from years ago, but not what I had for tea yesterday.

Uncle Tom had given me the afternoon off as Russell was working, so I spent a wonderful afternoon listening to songs and singing along, trying to pick some that I knew people would know and might like to sing along to, before deciding on ‘Fly Me to the Moon’, ‘Over the Rainbow’, ‘When You’re Smiling’ and ‘Unforgettable’. I’d see how long they took me to play out before I decided whether I needed any more. The more I played and listened to these songs, the more I was actually starting to look forward to my afternoon at the care home and not feeling quite so anxious after all.

* * *

The rest of the weekend and the following week flew by. I was helping out at Growlers as often as they needed me; we’d worked out a nice little rota so everyone knew what they were doing and when. When I was there, lovely little Baxter followed me around like a shadow. I was still amazed that none of my old friends from work had contacted me. Clearly I’d been totally forgotten. The evenings were full of me browsing the internet for houses to rent and permanent jobs, but there was nothing that was really pulling on me at all.

I popped over to Mum’s as often as I could in that week too and threw myself into rehearsing with gusto, adding more songs to the playlist, tinkling away on her piano that needed a good tuning, as it hadn’t been played for years. Mum sang along to most of the songs as she pottered around in the house looking as pleased as punch with herself. ‘I love having you around, darling, it feels like the heart and soul is back in our home when you are here. Do you know, I’m sure there are a load of music books up in the loft. There might be something you can use.’

‘Ah, that would be fab, Mum. Can I go up and have a look?’

‘Of course! I’ll go and make a start on some dinner while you pull the loft ladder down and have a look around.’

I crawled through the hatch and made my way on my knees over to a big old chest in the corner, where Mum said she thought the books were, making sure that I only knelt on the joists. I’d always had a fear of lofts and falling through since Uncle Tom put his foot through their ceiling once. Aunty Jen was fuming at him for weeks because they’d had to have the whole of the bedroom ceiling re-plastered because he’d tried to patch it up and it never looked the same as the rest of it. She was probably fuming even more because Beth and I were rolling around the floor laughing hysterically at the sight of one of Uncle Tom’s legs dangling precariously from a hole in the ceiling, and she’d shouted at us to stop being silly, which just made us laugh even more.

As I reached the chest, my sleeve caught on the edge of a flat, rusty tin box around the size of a shoebox that I’d never seen before. Curiosity got the better of me and I tried to open it to have a nosey at what was inside but it was locked. By this point Mum was standing at the foot of the ladder asking me if I’d found anything.

‘Mum, what’s this red tin box up here? I’ve never seen it before. It’s locked though.’

‘Mmm, what’s that, Madison? I can’t hear you very well.’ Stalling for time was the equivalent of Mum’s poker face when she didn’t want to answer a question. How strange, I thought, giving the box a shake to see if I could work out what was inside.

‘There’s a red tin box, sounds like it’s got papers and some other bits and bobs rattling around in it. I’ve tried to open it but it’s locked. Any ideas?’

‘I’m not sure, love. I’ll have a think,’ she said, brushing my question away in a voice which was an octave higher than normal. She didn’t seem to have any problem hearing me that time, even though I hadn’t spoken any louder.

Intuition was telling me she wasn’t being totally honest with me here. I ran my fingers across the top of the box, making the trail of a question mark in the dust, wondering what Mum wasn’t telling me. I was sure she had her reasons for wanting to keep it to herself, so I placed it to one side carefully, grabbed the books and passed them down to Mum through the loft hatch, hoping I’d remember to ask Mum about the box later.

* * *

Stuffed after one of Mum’s fabulous pie and mash dinners, we were sitting in front of the fireplace. The time felt perfect, so I asked Mum the question I hadn’t asked her for years.

‘Mum, will you tell me about Dad, please?’

Her shoulders visibly tensed but then relaxed and she exhaled a deep breath. She patted the space next to her on the settee. I moved from the fireside chair across the room and she picked up my hand and kissed it. She held it tight as she started her story.

‘I probably owe you an apology first,’ she said, choking back tears. ‘You have asked me many times over the years and I’ve never really answered you. I’ve always found it difficult to talk about. I’ve felt so guilty that you had to grow up without your father around and because I was trying so hard to be your mum and your dad, I was always too busy to explain and too embarrassed. Then it seemed too late and I didn’t know when would be the right time to bring it up… and then you stopped asking. I suppose at that point I felt relieved because I didn’t have to go through it all again.

‘Your father was a lovely man. I met him at work, and I fell in love with him the moment I clapped eyes on him. He was tall and dark-haired, very handsome, with big brown eyes that I just lost myself in. He worked in the accounts office and kept himself very much to himself. No one really knew much about him and I worked on the reception so we didn’t really mix at work. He was five years older than me and seemed so much more mature and, I suppose, sophisticated. We became really good friends at first, and we used to meet up at break times in the canteen at work, but when he asked me out to dinner I was so excited. I really liked him. We got on like a house on fire and he made me feel a million dollars, showering me with gifts and affection over the next few weeks. He was perfect and charming and wonderful and we were so in love.

‘After three months of seeing him, I found out I was pregnant. I’ll skip over the how-it-happened bit. I’m sure you don’t need to know every detail. I had arranged to see him that evening and was going to tell him. I was scared stiff, because I was only twenty-three, and because we’d not been together for long, but once I’d got used to the idea, I was so excited. We were going to be a family! But when I told him, his face dropped and he kept thumping his head with the balls of his fists, saying “No! No!” I didn’t understand. He got really angry with me. It was then that he dropped his bombshell.

‘He was married. He told me that his wife had ME and suffered from severe depression, so he couldn’t possibly ever consider leaving her. He said that he loved what we’d had together but that there was no way we could bring a child into the world together. He said that we had no alternative but to “deal with it”.’

Tears streamed down Mum’s cheeks as she relived what must have been such an emotional time for her even though she was recalling something that happened such a long time ago. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned into me.

‘I’m sorry that you have to learn this, darling. I thought that he was the love of my life, and I was devastated at this turn of events. But then the moment you were born, I knew that you were the love of my life and not him.

‘He never came back into work after that night. At first they said he was off sick, but then I was told that he’d left the company, a week after I’d told him about the pregnancy.’

‘Did you ever contact him again?’ I had so many questions I’d been wanting to ask for so long but didn’t want to push her too hard, yet I was so very angry with someone I’d never met, that he’d hurt her in this way. How dare he have carried on with Mum when he was already married?

‘I sent him a letter when you were born with a photograph of you. I took his address from the files at work before I left to have you. I know it was wrong of me to take confidential information, but I had to try to make him realise what he was giving up. If not for me, then for you. I never heard anything and that knocked me back more and more. It was such a tough time for me; I was so happy to have this little miracle growing inside of me, but so very sad that he’d left me and I was having to do it on my own. I bumped into someone years later who I used to work with and nonchalantly asked whether they’d ever heard what happened to him, and I was told that he and his wife had moved out of the area and that was that. How on earth could I have been so stupid as to think that I meant more to him? But it was clear that I was never enough for him, and therefore you and I were on our own in life. He obviously wasn’t the man I thought he was.’ She stroked my cheek. ‘I’m so sorry, and I’m so sorry that we’ve never had this conversation before.’

‘I’m sorry that I came between you and him, Mum.’

‘Darling, you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. From the moment I knew you were in my tummy, you were all I ever needed. You were my everything. I knew that you and I could get through anything, and we did alright, didn’t we? I know you didn’t have everything that other children had, but Uncle Tom and Aunty Jen were so very good to us. I owe them both such gratitude. If it wasn’t for them, looking after you so much, I wouldn’t have been able to work and earn money for the things we did have. And your childhood wasn’t so bad, was it?’

My mum was the most amazing mum ever. When I started at nursery and primary school, she spoke to them in advance and made sure that when there were occasions when fathers were spoken about, I wasn’t made to feel like an outcast. I didn’t understand when I was a toddler why all the other children had daddies and I didn’t, but Mum told me that I was special and didn’t need a daddy and that families came in all shapes and sizes and ours was just a small but perfectly formed family of two. These days, there were so many versions of families – children with two mums, or two dads, some with foster parents, some with stepparents and siblings – that now, no one would bat an eyelid about a single-parent family, but in those days, things were very different and it would have been frowned upon.

‘It was great, Mum, thank you. I’ve not always shown you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and how hard you worked. I suppose as a child you just take for granted that that’s what your parents do. But thank you, Mum. I really do love you, and I’m loving spending time with you, learning to get to know you all over again.’

‘I know you’ll have lots more things to ask me, but do you mind if we leave it there for now, darling? Let’s talk again soon and I might even be able to lay my hands on a photograph of your father if you’d like to see it.’

My mind wandered back to the red tin box that I’d stumbled across in the attic and I wondered whether it held the answers to a million questions that I’d had stored up for years.

Mum smiled at me through shimmering eyes and I’d never loved her more than I did right now. It was only when I was driving home that night that I realised I still didn’t even know my father’s name.

* * *

Saturday soon came round. Parking up outside the palatial-looking building, which looked more like a hotel than a care home, and taking a deep breath and a huge swig of Rescue Remedy for my nerves, I headed for the double front doors with my arms full of kit. Walking in backwards, pushing open the first set of doors with my considerable arse, which was getting increasingly lardy now I wasn’t working and was eating all the time, I pressed the bell with my nose and announced my arrival on the door system. God, I hoped they didn’t have cameras and weren’t all watching me on CCTV. They’d wonder who on earth was visiting them.

Hayley came to meet me and helped me with my baggage and showed me through to the communal area, where they’d very kindly arranged for a beautiful old upright piano to be wheeled through for me to play, alongside a table where I could put my computer, amplifier and microphone. With fumbling fingers, I set everything up and decided to take a moment to see how the piano sounded so I could decide which I’d rather do.

The sweet, mellow tone of the piano was just beautiful and I knew that I had to do as much as I could on that, so I bent the microphone accordingly so that I could still be heard. I didn’t want it so loud that I might blow up hearing aids, but I did want the hard-of-hearing to be able to enjoy the words and music too. I played the intro to ‘Fly Me to the Moon’ and when I stopped, there was a round of applause and I noticed that there were three care workers standing in the doorway, listening. A little embarrassed, I began tidying up my music and fumbling in my handbag. Hayley came over and said that she’d heard me from her office and couldn’t wait for me to get started.

My audience was arriving and there were lots of people. Shit! Lots of people! Was I really doing this? Beth Millington, I muttered under my breath, if this doesn’t work out, I might have to kill you.

The next time I looked up, more than sixty faces were staring at me, and you could have heard a pin drop. Hayley introduced me as that afternoon’s entertainment and explained that I’d sing for a while, then we’d have tea and cake and then I’d sing for a little bit longer, then they could all go and have a lie down to recover. There were a few polite laughs around the room but I thought for the first time that they could be quite a tough audience. This was so bloody scary. How on earth had I managed to let Beth talk me into this?

For my first song, I channelled my inner Audrey Hepburn and chose ‘Moon River’, something gentle to ease them in, and I practically hid behind the piano. I spent the first verse looking at the keys, nervous but lost in the melody. When I had the courage to look up, there were smiles all around me. Two of the ladies who were sat at the front were humming and swaying along with me, and then a few more joined in along the way. One little old lady was making up her own words and singing, but she was still joining in and enjoying herself and that was all that mattered. My heart lifted and filled with joy to know that I had made these people smile. When I finished the last note, there was a gentle clap from most of the audience, but my posse in the front row gave me a rapturous applause. I was thrilled to bits.

I was feeling a little more confident now so I decided to go with ‘Unforgettable’. I noticed that another of the ladies from the front row had got up, I presumed because she didn’t like it and was leaving the room, and I was horrified, but then to my surprise she sauntered over to one of the gentlemen who was sitting by the window and whispered to him. He got up to join her and to my great surprise, they started to waltz on the carpet beside where I was playing. Others started to applaud them, and another couple got up and joined them. This was delightful. Their faces were an absolute picture; they looked so happy. This was better than an evening watching Strictly anytime! I relaxed and could feel my voice sounding more confident and stronger. I was really getting into my stride.

‘Getting to Know You’ was my next choice for something a little more upbeat, and this time there was foot-tapping aplenty, and the sounds of hands clapping along warmed the cockles of my heart. Seeing something pink and white heading towards my face, I reached out and realised, to my absolute horror, that I had caught a pair of false teeth in my hands. I looked over and one of the old ladies in the front row was laughing her head off! I screamed and dropped them, which made her cackle some more. Hayley came over and apologised, saying that she should perhaps have warned me that Betty had a habit of laughing so much that her teeth flew out.

There was so much laughter in the room at this point that was a pure delight to hear. We decided to calm ourselves down with another more mellow song, so I introduced ‘Singin’ in the Rain’ and thought that might do the trick. I should have known better really when one of the residents came in swinging a brolly around and started doing what I can only describe as twerking. I could not stop laughing. I thought I was going to have a coronary, let alone these old folks. They clearly knew how to enjoy themselves. Tears of laughter streamed down my face as I tried so very hard to compose myself and carry on singing.

Hayley announced that it was definitely time for a cup of tea and I went round the room talking to the residents in the break, balancing my cup and saucer while chatting. It was so lovely to be thanked by them and told they were having such a lovely time.

I didn’t realise how much of myself I’d lost over the years of working at Ronington’s. Work was all I’d got into the habit of doing. When I was younger, singing used to be like a drug to me. If I didn’t sing, I missed it. I felt so light and happy singing again and I’d almost forgotten just how much I loved it and how it made me feel. Beth had been right all along. She knew me so well.

The ringing of the dinner bell signified that the second half was about to start and I prepared myself as the residents took their seats. Ethel and Beryl from the front row, who I’d met properly in the interval, got up and danced along to ‘Twist and Shout’, even though we had to help Beryl back up again when she twisted down and only shouted because she couldn’t get back up again and roared hilariously. We shared the microphone for the chorus of ‘Que Sera, Sera’ when they became my backing singers.

I’m sure Abba wouldn’t have been too insulted when my backing singers sang ‘Fandango’ instead of ‘Fernando’, and Lord only knew what they were singing when we did ‘Jambalaya’ by The Carpenters, but what they lacked in tone and the correct words they made up for in enthusiasm and volume.

At least half of the residents were out of their seats and having a dance, and the others who could raise their arms up in the air were waving along when I sang ‘Sweet Caroline’, which was my pièce de résistance, and totally brought the house down with nearly everyone singing along. They loved the choices I’d made to the playlist and I was so happy that they were the right ones for the occasion. Their joy was intoxicating. My face literally ached from smiling so much. Who would have thought that I, who hadn’t sung publicly for literally years, would have spent one of the most enjoyable afternoons of my life entertaining old folks in this way?

Cries of ‘More! More!’ came from my audience. I looked to Hayley and she held two fingers up at me. As she was smiling, I hoped she meant that I could play another two songs rather than anything else, so I fired up ‘Daydream Believer’ and we ended with ‘Love Changes Everything’, which I played on the piano to rapturous applause. I thought I’d better calm them all down a bit before I buggered off leaving the care workers with a whole load of people with high blood pressure and irregular heartbeats.

‘Oh, Maddy, what a joy to see my darlings having so much fun. You picked exactly the right type of tracks. Everyone knew them all and even though they got a tad over excited, you seemed to know when to tone it down a bit. And I thought I was going to wet myself when Betty’s teeth flew out at you. I really should have warned you that might happen.’

‘I’m so happy that you’re so pleased. It’s meant the world to me to come and do this today. I was really nervous but when I saw those smiles, I knew it was the right thing to do.’

I couldn’t stop grinning as the residents came and took my hands in theirs and thanked me for a wonderful time, and they sang and kicked their legs and danced their way back down the corridors to their rooms with the carers. What a picture to treasure in my mind. What memories I’d made this afternoon.

‘Will you come back, Maddy, please? We’ll have you anytime. It has truly been a wonderful afternoon. You’d be doing us a huge favour. We don’t have a huge budget for entertainment, but if you could come back some time, I know they’d love it. And perhaps we can invite their families along too so they can see the pleasure they got. In fact, I’d definitely like to book you for our Summer Fayre. We’ll be doing a family day and it would be wonderful to have you at that. Now, let me get you your payment. I’m sorry it’s not much.’

‘Me doing you a favour, Hayley? Seriously, experiencing this afternoon has done me the biggest favour ever. It’s been delightful . I’d come just for the fun of it, I don’t want payment. Thank you so much for having me. I’ll give you a call when I’ve got my diary and put another date and your summer event in. After this afternoon, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

As I drove away from Meadow View Care Home, the sun came out from behind a fluffy cotton wool cloud and I realised that this afternoon had given me another one of the most uplifting experiences of my life. It made me think that the life I’d been living had been one of having the best of possessions, and I wanted to be a better person in the future, making memories that filled my heart with joy. My whole thought process had changed and I just wanted to be the best that I could be.