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‘HELLO, MUM.’ VERONICA leaned down and kissed her mother’s soft cheek, breathing in her familiar flowery scent. Margo reached up and Veronica took her hand giving it a gentle squeeze. ‘You look lovely today.’
‘I’ll have a hug.’ It was Winnie. She beamed at Veronica and waited beside her walking frame having stopped midway through to wherever she was intent on going.
‘How are you, Winnie?’ Veronica straightened and gave the old woman a hug, her wool cardigan scratchy to the touch.
‘I’d be better if they’d get to work on time. I don’t know what they’re playing at.’
‘No, it’s not good enough, is it?’
‘It isn’t and I best go and see how the land lies.’ She shuffled off and Veronica watched her for a moment, wondering what part of her life she was reliving. That was the thing, she thought, her gaze expanding to take in the other residents, some engaging in activities, others in conversation, and some staring blankly. All these people had had lives. They’d no doubt been productive, contributing members of society outside Holly Grange’s upmarket brick façade. It was important to remember that, she thought, turning her attention back to her mum.
Today she was sitting in the lounge area with the activity of others going on around her. She’d a book open on her lap but it was a token gesture. A remembered pleasure of old to sit and read. ‘Shall we go and sit somewhere quieter, Mum? I’ve brought something in to show you.’
Margo looked up at her. ‘We’ll have to take my book back to the... the...’ her face crumpled as she lost the words.
‘The library, Mum, and no, we don’t want a late fine. Give it to me and I’ll sort it for you.’
Margo’s face relaxed and she obliged, allowing Veronica to take the book. ‘I’ll be back soon.’ She headed around to the television alcove and put the book on the shelf there, returning to find her mother unmoved. She held out her hand, ‘All done. Come on, Mum.’
Margo smiled and took her hand. ‘I’m glad we’re going out and about today, Veronica. It’s such a beautiful day.’
‘Yes, it’s lovely although that wind’s cool, Mum. We might be best to sit over here for a while.’ She led her over to two twin armchairs set back from the others and settled her into the plump seat. Sitting down next to her she opened the bag she’d been carrying and felt the rawness of the tulle beneath her fingers. She pulled the sugary pink costume from the bag. ‘This is the first tutu you made for me, Mum. I felt like a princess dancing in this.’