18 December
The week before Christmas marked the last of their Wednesday sessions together at Molly’s Club, but far from being a sad affair, it was a jolly card-swapping and mince-pie-filled one. For most of them at least. Sharon had changed jobs, found herself training to be a dog groomer. She had adopted the old lady’s lurcher and was allowed to take her to work. ‘Jinny’ had settled into her new surroundings beautifully and Sharon, in her own words, felt like a big hole inside her had been stuffed with sweets. Laurie envied her that: what must it feel like not to have that gaping emptiness inside you, to feel fulfilled and whole. Yvonne and Maurice were officially an item and he was intent on cooking Christmas dinner for her at his house and then she was going to her daughter’s for Boxing Day. Molly was overjoyed to see how two people such as Yvonne and Maurice flourished in a climate of love and kindness. Yvonne had even taken Maurice clothes shopping and out went the frumpy slacks and knits and in came polos and his first ever pair of jeans.
Laurie concerned Molly though and she hoped she wasn’t preparing to leave with the others, hoped she would stay on and continue to be supported. She hadn’t been the same since Peter had left and Molly suspected there was a link between that and the dullness of Laurie’s beautiful grey-blue eyes.
At the end of the session, Maurice pulled out of his pocket two small boxes. At either side of him Yvonne and Sharon were beaming with anticipation.
‘Dear Mr Singh and Molly,’ he began, as confident a man as ever there was. ‘We’ve all bought you a little something to say thank you for helping us, for bringing us together and in my case certainly, giving me much happiness. I can’t say I’ve ever had true friends before, but I have now.’
Yvonne, Sharon and Laurie clapped as Maurice handed one box to Mr Singh and one to Molly, urging them to open them. Inside was a rhinestone-encrusted brooch for Molly, a gold tie-pin for Mr Singh. Each one featured a ship.
‘We know you both like travelling,’ explained Sharon, ‘but we thought as well that it was a symbol of how you have helped us all to cross our own sea.’
‘We are very grateful to you,’ said Yvonne, wiping her eyes. From years of having to hide her emotions, she was more than happy to show them now. ‘You’ve not changed my life, you’ve given me one.’
‘Thank you, dear Mr Singh and Molly,’ added Laurie.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ said Molly. She loved brooches so much that she had a collection of them, but this one would sit special among them. ‘I’m so touched. I’m only glad I could help you, you’re all wonderful people and we hope you are very happy. You are welcome to carry on coming’ – she looked at Laurie as she said this – ‘and you know where we are if you ever need help in the future.’
Hugs and handshakes, goodbyes and good lucks later, Yvonne, Maurice and Sharon left. Laurie was about to follow when Molly called her back.
‘Laurie, you don’t have to leave because the others have,’ said Molly.
‘I know, but it feels like a natural end,’ replied Laurie. ‘I think you’ve helped me as much as you could.’ It was partly true. But at the same time Laurie wished she had never come here, never met Pete Moore who lingered in her head and refused to leave. As Tara Ollerton had probably lodged steadfastly in Alex’s.
‘Our policy has always been that people can come or go without pressure, but I have to ask you, what happened to Peter? Can you shed any light on why he stopped coming?’
Molly saw the small swallow Laurie’s throat performed before she spoke.
‘I think it was more that he didn’t want to see me again, rather than you.’
‘You got close to each other, didn’t you?’ Molly asked gently.
‘Yes, but I’ve moved on now.’
Laurie reached over, squeezed Molly’s arm affectionately.
‘Thank you for everything you do. You and Mr Singh,’ she said and opened the door quickly, hoping Molly wouldn’t see the crippling sadness in her eyes. But Molly had. And in her measured and expert opinion, Laurie looked anything but a woman who had moved on.