Chapter 27
The grant money arrived. I couldn’t quite believe it. I kept checking the balance of my bank account to make sure it was still there. And then I immediately opened a savings account and transferred it all so I didn’t have a reckless moment and spend it all on something frivolous.
In fact, the first thing I bought when the money landed in my account – even before I started thinking about buying paint or equipment for the mural – was a book.
I’d found one online that looked similar to Elsie’s thick notepad and when it arrived, a couple of days later, I was delighted because it was perfect.
Everything was perfect, in fact. I had the grant money and because it was helping with my living expenses, I could start paying off Max’s credit card bill with my wages.
I felt lighter. Happier. More solid than I had since before Max had died.
Wasn’t it amazing what a bit of financial security could do?
For the first time since he’d scarpered to Portugal, I felt a glimmer of sympathy for my father.
He’d had money and then he’d lost it. That couldn’t have been easy.
My meeting with the grant bigwigs had gone without a hitch, because it turned out the woman organising it all was an artist too – see how I was thinking of myself as an artist again – and her father was in a care home, so we had lots to talk about, and she was already talking about expanding the book project to other homes in the area.
So now I was all set. I had the money, I had the book, I was making progress in finding Elsie. Now I had to properly design the mural and get the residents on board with writing messages.
I’d arranged with Blessing to gather the residents in the lounge so I could explain my project properly and let them know what I wanted them to do. I just hoped they’d all want to be involved.
With my spirits high, and the sun shining, I cycled to the home, locked my bike up and ran my eye over the end wall where my mural would soon be without even the faintest twinge of panic. It was like a new beginning, I thought. A new me.
My good mood didn’t even falter when it took me twenty minutes to get all the residents together in the lounge.
It was like herding cats, honestly. As soon as I thought I had them all in one place, someone would go to the loo, or to get a cup of tea, or pop back to their room to find some biscuits.
It was a nightmare. But eventually, I had almost all of the residents together, custard creams in hand.
Even Helen was there, though she refused to sit down and instead lurked at the back, leaning against the wall.
I was glad she was joining in, because I was trying to be more sympathetic towards her since Blessing had told me she’d had no visitors.
Feeling nervous all of a sudden, I stood up at the front of the room.
‘I wanted to tell you a bit about my ideas,’ I began.
‘Speak up,’ bellowed Kenny. ‘We’re not as young as we were.’
A ripple of laughter spread around the room and I rolled my eyes.
‘Shhh,’ said Joyce loudly just as I started talking again and I shut my mouth immediately.
‘Not you, love,’ she said with a hearty chuckle. ‘This lot. You carry on.’
Now the laughter was less of a ripple and more of a wave.
Amused, I drank the tea Val had made for me with her special teabags and waited for them to stop.
When the chatting faded away, I shook my head.
‘You are all like naughty children,’ I told them sternly.
‘But you’re very funny. Now just don’t talk for five minutes while I explain. Can you do that?’
‘Course we can,’ said Kenny.
‘Good.’ I grinned at them all. ‘Some of you know I’m going to be painting a mural on the end of the building, telling the story of Tall Trees, during the Second World War, in particular when it was a hospital.
I’m using some words from Nurse Elsie Watson’s book that she got her patients to write in when she was nursing here during the Blitz. ’
‘Can we help paint?’ Joyce asked.
‘Would you like to?’
‘Oh, I’d love to.’
Pleased, I nodded. ‘Absolutely – the more the merrier.’ I looked round at them all, thinking about what Finn had said. ‘Actually, I used to teach art for a while. I did wonder about holding some classes here. Would anyone be interested in those?’
There was an immediate clamour of enthusiasm. ‘Amazing. I’ll speak to Blessing and put a sign-up sheet on the board.’
This was going much better than I’d expected. I felt boosted by their eagerness.
‘Alongside the mural project, I thought it would be nice if we made our own book,’ I said.
I paused as the door to the lounge opened and Finn came in. My heart gave a little jump. I’d not been expecting to see him and it seemed I was very pleased about his unexpected arrival. He went over and stood next to Helen who gave him a cursory, dismissive glance.
Finn gave me a thumbs up and I smiled at him, feeling my already good mood get a little bit more sunny.
I turned back to the group. ‘I love talking to you all. I love hearing your stories and your opinions and your takes on the world. I want you to write them down.’ I picked up the book I’d ordered online and held it up.
‘This is going to be the twenty-first-century version of Elsie’s book.
I’ll pass it round and you can all write in it. ’
‘What do we write?’ asked Vince, one of the residents from the top corridor.
‘That’s the beauty of it,’ I said. ‘You can write anything at all. Messages for your loved ones. Memories. Poems. Jokes. You can draw a picture if you like. Anything goes.’
‘Anything?’ said Kenny. He made the word sound rude and I rolled my eyes again.
‘Within reason, Kenny,’ I said, using my stern voice again.
He winked at me. ‘Roger that.’
‘Right then,’ I said. ‘Who wants to go first?’
Val raised a hand. ‘Could I take it? I’ve got some things I want to write. Things I should have said a long time ago and never got the chance.’
‘Of course you can.’ I took it over to where she sat and gave it to her along with a pack of pens I’d bought. ‘Take as long as you want, and when you’re done, just pass it on.’
Val looked pleased. ‘I will,’ she said. Then, to my surprise, she took my hand in hers. ‘This is a good thing, Stephanie. I told you that you’re one of the good ones.’
I looked up to the ceiling, trying to stop the tears that had sprung into my eyes from falling. ‘Thanks, Val.’ I raised my voice. ‘Thanks, everyone. Come and see me if you’ve got any questions, and I’ll put that sign-up sheet on the board today.’
‘Sign-up sheet?’ Finn said, appearing next to me. He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek and I breathed in the closeness of him, feeling slightly light-headed.
‘I asked if anyone was interested in art classes.’ I stood up a bit straighter, pulling my shoulders back. ‘Lots of them were. And Joyce wants to help with the mural.’
‘That’s why I’m here actually,’ Finn said.
‘For an art class?’
He chuckled. ‘No, to offer my services. Exams and marking are over; I’ve got no students and no teaching until the autumn. I thought you might need a hand.’
‘With finding Elsie?’
‘Finding Elsie, painting the mural, passing round the book – whatever you need.’
‘Are you serious?’ I was delighted.
‘Absolutely.’ He frowned, his hair falling over the top of his glasses. ‘But I can’t draw. Please don’t ask me to do anything artistic.’
‘I could definitely use your help,’ I said. ‘But first I’ve got something to show you and I think you’re going to love it.’
I took him over to the corner of the room, where I’d left Elsie’s book on the table, and we both sat down.
‘There were a couple of pages stuck together and I managed to pull them apart.’ Finn looked alarmed and I shook my head. ‘Carefully,’ I reassured him. ‘And it turned out, they’d been stuck together deliberately. Because look what I found …’
I’d put a Post-it Note on the correct page so I found it easily and opened the book up in front of Finn.
‘What’s this?’
‘Love notes,’ I said in glee. ‘Love messages between Elsie and a mystery man. It’s the most gorgeous thing. She’s quite cautious at first, gets him to give her clues about who he is.’
‘Smart lady.’
‘I know – she’d be good on Tinder, wouldn’t she?’ I looked up and met Finn’s gaze just as I said “Tinder” and blushed. ‘Anyway, she clearly knows him. He’s a patient and she’s a nurse so they don’t use names – she’s still being wary.’
Finn had pushed his glasses up on to his head and was studying the tiny writing. ‘This is astonishing,’ he said, half to himself. ‘I can’t believe I missed this.’
I shrugged. ‘There’s a lot of other stuff in the book and you said yourself you’d not been through the whole thing. I just got lucky.’
‘Give me the gist,’ Finn said eagerly. ‘So Elsie knows who this chap is?’
‘It seems so, and they go on to share stories about themselves. And then here …’ I tapped the page at the right message. ‘Here is where Elsie scribbles a meeting place. It’s not nearly as neat as her other messages so I wondered if she was in a bit of a hurry when she wrote it.’
‘Did they meet up?’
‘I think so – because then the final message is him saying his arms feel empty without her in them. He says she’s his sunshine – like the song.
And then the messages stop. I thought at first he was a soldier because he talks about going back to the war, but he also says he didn’t want to join the Army.
’ I swallowed. ‘I wish we knew who he was. I’d love to know if he made it home safely. ’
‘If he was a soldier, then we might be able to track him down,’ Finn said, his eyes lighting up. ‘Military records are brilliantly helpful.’
‘I wondered if he could have been in the air force,’ I said. ‘You said there were airmen at the hospital weren’t there?’
Finn pointed his finger at me. ‘There were,’ he said in delight. ‘There was an annexe here, which had a Red Cross ward.’
‘A Red Cross ward?’