Chapter 26
Joyce
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” That’s what they say, isn’t it? That’s why I invited Bernard for lunch.
I cooked lamb with rice. The lamb was Waitrose, but the rice was from Lidl. That’s the way I do it; you honestly don’t notice the difference with the basics. You see more and more Lidl vans here these days as people catch on.
Bernard’s not the sort to notice the difference, anyway.
I know he eats in the restaurant every day.
What he has for breakfast I don’t know, but who really knows what anyone has for breakfast?
I usually have tea and toast with the local radio.
I know some people have fruit, don’t they?
I don’t know when that came into being, but it’s not for me.
It wasn’t a date with Bernard, don’t think that, but I asked Elizabeth not to tell Ron and Ibrahim anyway, because they would have a field day.
If it had been a date, which it wasn’t, I will say this: Here is a man who likes to talk about his late wife a lot. I don’t mind that, and I do understand it, but I’d gone to quite an effort. Anyway, not something I should complain about, I know.
Perhaps I feel guilty because I don’t really talk about Gerry.
I suppose it’s just not how I deal with things.
I keep Gerry in a tight little ball just for me.
I think if I let him loose here, it would overwhelm me, and I worry he might just blow away.
I do know that’s silly. Gerry would have enjoyed Coopers Chase, all the committees. It feels unfair that he missed out.
Anyway, this is exactly my point—I feel the tears prickling, and this isn’t the time or the place. I’m supposed to be writing.
Bernard’s wife was Indian, which must have been very unusual back then, and they were married for forty-seven years.
They moved in here together, but she had a stroke and was in Willows within six months.
She died about eighteen months ago, before I’d arrived.
From the sound of her, I do wish I’d met her.
They have one daughter, called Sudhi. Not Sophie. She lives in Vancouver, BC, with her partner, and they come over a couple of times a year. I wonder what would happen if Joanna moved to Vancouver. I absolutely wouldn’t put it past her.
We talked about other things too; I don’t want to give you the wrong impression.
We discussed poor Tony Curran. I told Bernard how excited I was that Tony Curran had been murdered.
He looked at me askance, in a way that reminded me I can’t talk to everyone in the same way I talk to Elizabeth, Ibrahim, and Ron.
But between you and me and the gatepost, Bernard looks rather handsome with an askance look on his face.
He talked a little about his work, though I am still none the wiser, to be honest. If you know what a chemical engineer is, then you are a better woman than me.
Don’t get me wrong—I know what an engineer is, and I know what chemicals are, but I can’t join the dots.
I talked a little bit about my work and told some funny stories about patients.
He laughed, and when I told a story about a junior doctor who’d got his bits trapped in a Hoover nozzle, I saw a little twinkle in his eye, which gave me cause for optimism.
It was nice; I wouldn’t go further than that, but I sensed there was more to learn about Bernard, a gap that needs to be crossed.
I know the difference between alone and lonely, and Bernard is lonely. There is a cure for that.
I am drawn to strays. Gerry was a stray; I knew it from the moment I met him. Always joking, always clever, but always a stray needing a home. Which is what I gave him, and he gave me back so much more in return. Oh, Joyce, this place would have suited that lovely man down to the ground.
I’m banging on like Bernard, aren’t I? Do shut up, Joyce. There are silly, proper tears now. I’ll let them fall. If you don’t cry sometimes, you’ll end up crying all the time.
Elizabeth is inviting Donna and her DCI to come to see us later. She is planning to give them the information we found out from Joanna and Cornelius, and to see what we might get in return.
Because it isn’t Thursday, Elizabeth asked if we can use my front room to meet them.
I told her it would be too small for all of us, and she said that was perfect for her purposes.
Make the DCI uncomfortable and maybe he’ll give something away.
That’s her plan. She says it’s an old work trick of hers, though she no longer has access to all the equipment that she used to have.
Her express instruction was “No one leaves the room until we’ve made DCI Hudson tell us something we can use. ”
She has also asked me to bake. I am doing a lemon drizzle, but also a coffee and walnut, because you never know.
I have used almond flour because they are so good with it at Anything with a Pulse and I have been looking for an opportunity. I can tell that Ibrahim is tempted by the idea of being gluten-intolerant, and this will head him off at the pass.
I wonder if I should have a nap. It is three fifteen and my cutoff point for a nap is usually three; otherwise I struggle to sleep later. But it has been a busy few days, so perhaps I have earned a bit of rule breaking.
Either way, I will just add that coffee and walnut is Bernard’s favorite, but you mustn’t read anything into that.