Chapter 26 Stephanie #2
I liked that so many of our residents had big families to visit.
I always felt a bit sorry for my own nan, who only ever got to see me.
And my father on the rare occasion he dragged himself over from Portugal.
I wondered if Max would ever get to visit her again.
Not that he’d been a regular visitor before he went to prison.
‘Do you know much about Helen?’ I asked. ‘The newish resident? Does she have family?’
Blessing made a face. ‘Not that I know of. She’s never had visitors.’
‘That’s quite sad.’
‘Perhaps her family are all in Ireland?’
‘Then why come to this home? She could have stayed in Ireland, surely?’
‘Who knows why anyone does anything?’ Blessing said. ‘How are you feeling now?’
‘I’m all right. Better than Jill.’
‘She’ll be fine. She’s being looked after. Go home early if you like, your shift will finish soon anyway.’
‘That’s kind of you, thank you,’ I said. ‘I’ll just grab my bits from the lounge and then get off. I’ve got some preparation to do for my grant meeting anyway.’
I hurried off back to the lounge. The chairs had all been put back to how they were and two of the other carers – Franklin and Vir – were supervising a very rowdy pub quiz. I couldn’t see the book or my notes anywhere.
Joyce and Mr Yin were poring over their answer sheet, their heads close together. I tapped Joyce on the shoulder.
‘Where did the book go, do you know?’ I asked.
She looked startled. ‘I thought you took it?’
‘I’ve been with Jill this whole time.’
‘It’s not there now.’
‘I know that,’ I said patiently. ‘The chairs have all been moved. I just wondered if you saw where someone put it. Did Franklin put it aside?’
Joyce shook her head. ‘It wasn’t there when they came to set up for the quiz. I know that for sure because Vir stacked all the chairs up to carry them and I thought how strong he was. He wouldn’t have been able to stack them if the book had been there.’
‘Did you see where it went, Mr Yin?’
He looked at me, his brow furrowed. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘Because after you ran off, there was a kerfuffle.’
The word sounded lovely in his accent. I smiled. ‘What sort of kerfuffle?’
‘Someone saw a mouse,’ Joyce said. ‘And let me tell you, Val pretends to be all strong and bolshie, but she was up on her chair, holding her skirt above her knees before I had time to catch my breath. Kenny had to help her down because he was worried she was going to break her ankle. He got Cyril’s stepladder in the end.
And that funny woman from the end room – Marge is it? She was shrieking.’
‘Where did the mouse go?’ I asked, looking around me gingerly. I wasn’t a fan of rodents myself.
‘No idea,’ said Joyce. ‘I’m not even sure there was a mouse. No one else saw it, and I know they move fast but there were a lot of us in here at the time.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘So, there was the mouse kerfuffle and then after that the book had gone?’
Joyce gave me a hard look. ‘Are you implying that the mouse kerfuffle was a distraction so someone could take the book?’
I actually hadn’t been implying that at all, but now she’d said it, it made total sense.
‘Who else was in here when the mouse appeared?’
‘Just us,’ Joyce said. ‘All of us who’d been listening to you talk. Marge. And that Helen woman of course. She’s the one who saw the mouse in the first place. She must be really scared of them because she just vanished.’
‘Hmm,’ I said.
‘Hmm?’
‘Oh nothing. Sorry to interrupt your quiz. I’m sure the book will show up.’
Joyce looked like she was going to question me further but then Mr Yin nudged her. ‘How many actors have played James Bond?’ he hissed.
Joyce narrowed her eyes. ‘Just on screen or on radio, too?’
Leaving them having a fierce whispered argument about 007, I headed out into the hallway and leaned against the wall.
To my surprise, I wasn’t panicking. Yes, I’d lost the book and yes, Finn had told me to pretty much guard it with my life.
But I had a suspicion Helen was behind all this.
She clearly had a problem with the book, or with me, or – I thought suddenly – perhaps it wasn’t me but my project?
I thought about Blessing saying that Helen didn’t have any visitors.
Perhaps the idea of people leaving messages for their loved ones was making her feel bad because she didn’t have any family to write to.
‘Oh, bless her,’ I said, feeling guilty. She was prickly and a bit strange, but I resolved to be nicer to her. Starting right there and then, in fact.
I headed for Helen’s room and knocked on the door. She was sitting at her little table in the window. Her room looked out over the road, instead of the garden but I knew some people liked that – they liked watching the passers-by and the traffic trundling along the street.
On the table next to her was the book. She looked up at me as I entered, and then at her hand, which was resting on the cover. I thought she looked as though she’d been crying, but I couldn’t be sure.
‘I’ve got your book,’ she said. ‘There was a bit of confusion in the lounge earlier and I took it for safekeeping.’
‘A kerfuffle.’
A flash of amusement crossed her face. ‘A kerfuffle, indeed.’
‘Did you read it?’ I asked. ‘The book?’
She screwed her nose up. ‘Sure, what would I want with that sentimental nonsense?’
There was a small, slightly awkward pause.
‘Can I take it?’
She pressed her hand down on the book, like she was welding it to the table, but then she let go and I darted forward, picked it up and clasped it to my chest.
‘Thanks for looking after it,’ I said.
She closed her eyes briefly, as if she didn’t want to see me, then turned her attention to the view out of the window once more.
‘They’re doing a quiz in the lounge, if you fancy it?’ I said.
‘Thank you, but no. I have things to do.’
‘Well, if you change your mind, you know where we are.’
She didn’t reply.
With the book still clutched in my arms, I left her to it.