Chapter 16 Jacob
Jacob
‘I was wondering, if the wind stays off, perhaps we could put a couple of tables out on the street, underneath the awning,’ Jacob said. ‘If we put a heater out there, it could be quite pretty, what with the snow. Isn’t it nice how all the shops have strung up connecting fairy lights?’
Aunt Marjorie nodded. ‘The whole town has come together. I just hope the snow doesn’t melt away too quickly.’
It was snowing again outside. The snow that had fallen over the weekend had settled, even if it had been shovelled into thick drifts.
The whole town seemed to have got into the Christmas spirit, however, with all the shops along the high street doubling down with their Christmas ornaments and lights, so that there was an unbroken line of Christmas cheer all the way from the church square right down to Sycamore Park.
Christmas music drifted out of shops. Snowmen and illuminated Father Christmas figures grinned out of front gardens, and Christmas trees glowed with lights in every living room window.
In fact, the only building that hadn’t got into the spirit of Christmas was Nora Shapton’s assisted living facility, which looked as drab and crumbling as ever.
Jacob had walked up to the church this morning to listen to a group of carollers practising, and had seen a couple of council workers with clipboards standing outside.
According to Daphne, who had a friend on the council, it had been reported by the police as unsafe.
The other residents were in the process of being moved elsewhere, while the company itself was likely to face severe consequences.
Nora, however, remained in hospital, and Jacob was yet to get a reply to the message he had sent to her grandson.
They decided it would be a good idea to put a couple of tables outside after all, so Jacob swept away the snow, sprinkled a little salt on the pavement to prevent it getting slippery, then they carried out a couple of tables.
Jacob set up a portable heater between the two, and within half an hour both tables were occupied.
Marjorie put a little gentle Christmas music on, then they got to work making handmade mince pies and gingerbread.
It was only Wednesday the 3rd of December but the season started earlier every year and it was best to be prepared.
Just after lunchtime a policeman came in, asking to speak to Jacob.
He introduced himself as P.C. Mark Bobbins, one of the officers Jacob had met at Nora’s place.
He eyed the freshly baked gingerbread men with such obvious desire that Aunt Marjorie gifted him one; then, with the shop experiencing a post-lunch lull in business, they sat down at a free table together.
‘I just thought I’d stop by on behalf of the local police to thank you, young man,’ P.C.
Mark said, even though he looked no more than a couple of years older than Jacob, despite both towering over him and outweighing him by at least double.
‘You know we’re a pretty tight-knit town, and certain events can reverberate, and this was one of them.
That poor lady, she could have died in there.
The company that owned that building, Ferris Nursing, has declared bankruptcy and its CEO fled abroad.
Turns out that their building here in Brentwell isn’t alone in being poor quality.
Apparently what they’ve been doing is getting residents to sign a communications waiver which allowed them to contact the families on the residents’ behalf.
Several families have reported receiving letters written by their relatives, refusing them visits, or claiming everything was fine when in fact it was not. ’
‘That’s terrible,’ Aunt Marjorie said. ‘Preying on vulnerable people like that.’
Jacob said nothing. All he could think about was poor Nora, living in squalor.
‘It gets worse,’ P.C. Mark said, helping himself to another gingerbread man.
‘It turns out that their staff—woefully few considering the number of residents—haven’t been paid for two months.
I talked to one lady—a Mrs. Clarice Toad—can’t believe that’s her real name, but then Bobbins gets more than the odd chuckle—and she told me she was only rostered to be part-time but was working nearly fifty hours a week, and hasn’t been paid since October.
Even that was only half what she was owed.
’ P.C. Mark sighed. ‘She has a son, she told me. There’s going to be a few scrimping Christmases around here this year, I think.
’ He picked up the last remaining leg of his second gingerbread man.
‘Can I order a dozen of these for my mother? The way the cinnamon mingles with the sugar and ginger … I don’t think she’ll ever catch a cold again. ’
Aunt Marjorie smiled. ‘Of course.’
P.C. Mark fished into his pocket and pulled out a little batch of tickets wrapped with an elastic band.
‘By the way, someone dropped these in at the station a couple of days ago. They’re free tickets to this magic show on at the theatre.
Thought I might take the wife and kids, although we’re not too happy with this guy at the moment. ’
Jacob lifted and eyebrow. ‘Why not?’
‘Apparently a helicopter hired by him landed illegally in the square outside the theatre last night. We’re trying to get hold of him to explain himself.
’ Mark lifted an eyebrow. ‘He’s proving pretty difficult to track down.
Anyone would think he knew a thing or two about disappearing into thin air. ’
The tearoom closed at three on a Wednesday to give Aunt Marjorie time to catch up on her preparation, but she let Jacob go early, so he headed up the high street, browsing the charity shops for old games and toys.
He had decided to teach the children at the home how to play chess, since he had read in a recent article that playing chess helped organise the mind, and Lisa was always complaining that a few of the kids never tidied their rooms. He managed to find five old sets, which he tucked into his rucksack.
By the time he made it to the children’s home, school had finished and most of them had returned.
A few were making a snowman outside, so Jacob joined them for a while, briefly engaging in a furious snowball fight which culminated in him taking an unprovoked shot down the back of his neck.
Retreating inside to dry off and warm up, he was grateful for Lisa bringing him a coffee.
‘They’ll love these,’ she said, pointing at the chess sets. Providing you can get them to sit still long enough to learn the rules. It’s all instant gratification these days, isn’t it?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ Jacob said. ‘I was hoping we could have a tournament, maybe with small prizes.’
‘Sounds like a good idea. Oh, by the way, we have a new volunteer coming in tonight. Maybe you could show her around?’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, she’s a teacher from the primary school. She called up about volunteering a few weeks ago, but I’ve been so busy, I only just found time to call her back. She teaches a couple of the little ones, so she won’t be a total stranger.’
‘Sure, if you like.’
It had been a while since there had been a new volunteer start.
Most people were too busy to take time out of their day to play with disadvantaged kids.
Jacob was the youngest volunteer by at least a decade, so it was most likely an older lady on the verge of retirement, worried about how she would fill her days once she finished working.
Aunt Marjorie always said she felt lucky to own her own business because there was no such thing as retirement.
‘One day I’ll just drop dead in the middle of the floor,’ she’d said on more than one occasion. ‘Just make sure you drag me out the back before the customers see.’
Jacob busied himself by tidying up the playroom, then helped cut up some vegetables for dinner.
Most of the kids were still outside playing in the snow, but just as Lisa leaned out of the window and called them in, a figure appeared behind the frosted glass of the main door.
An arm rose to press the buzzer, and Lisa looked up.
‘That’s probably her,’ she said to Jacob. ‘Can you get it?’
‘Sure,’ he said, putting down a knife and quickly washing his hands. He was still wearing a Winnie-the-Pooh apron, but he would have to get back to the vegetables as soon as he had let the new volunteer in anyway. He hurried to the door, calling ‘Wait a minute!’
As the door swung open, he expected to see a nervous-looking, late-middle-aged woman. What he didn’t expect was to find Charlotte Harding, the beautiful young teacher whose shoes he had ruined with a spilt carton of milk at her own grandmother’s wake.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said with a bright smile. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’
Jacob grabbed on to the door frame, fearing that otherwise, he might faint.