How Laura Lewis Met Richard Brown

Chapter Eighteen

Gertie had slept well and felt fully rested and a lot better than she had during recent days. She was sitting in the day room because she wanted a change of scene. As long as she could sit and read her books, without being forced to talk to anybody, then she was happy.

But Gertie had another reason for wanting to sit in the day room. She wanted to keep an eye on the office and see what Hazel was up to. and more importantly, she needed to talk to Laura.

The day room buzzed with chatter and activity — residents being helped into seats, cups of tea being served and the constant chatter that accompanied it all.

Harold was sitting by the window reading the paper and Albert was chatting to Margaret about art and how art today wasn’t how it used to be.

Gertie shook her head. Stupid man . Of course art isn’t what it used to be. It evolves. Becomes something new. That’s the way of things. She clamped her mouth shut and picked up her book. She wasn’t even part of their conversation. Best leave them to it.

She looked up at the large wall clock. Not long ago she would have complained about being patronised, but now she was glad of the large clock face, what with her failing eyesight. Nearly two. Laura would be here soon.

Gertie turned her attention towards the office. Hazel wasn’t sat there in her chair, in the goldfish bowl of an office. She averted her gaze to the main entrance.

She really needed to speak to Laura. She would know what to do. Gertie smiled as she watched Laura push open the main door and stumble her way into the home, scurrying down the corridor, unbuttoning her coat as she went.

* * *

Friday was laundry day at Cedar House care home. Laura enjoyed ripping the sheets from the beds, unpopping the duvet covers and plumping up pillows after removing the pillowcases. She threw all the bedding into the laundry skip as she made her away quickly along the corridor.

She wheeled the skip down to the laundry room and returned to the floor with a trolley stacked high with freshly washed and ironed sheets, duvet covers and pillowcases.

Laura loved that smell of freshly pressed sheets, that floral aroma. It reminded her of her childhood, of how, together with Lottie, she would help their mother with the weekly wash, sorting the whites and delicates. They were happy memories, those days before her father had left them to embark on a new life with a younger woman. Laura hadn’t seen nor heard from him since. She had no idea if he was dead or alive. Perhaps she should try to find him, but she had a feeling that he’d be difficult to find, if he could be found at all. Laura didn’t think she had it in her to unearth the past, just to find out how her father had changed. He had a new life. A whole new family. She didn’t need him, nor did her mother. Laura shook her head to clear her thoughts. She needed to concentrate on the task ahead of her — she was in for a busy shift.

She was only supposed to make the beds. That was the task printed on her list of chores for the day. Make the beds — tick — then on to the next task, but Laura went one step further by adding a single chocolate and a small handmade soap to each pillow. Just like you would find in a five-star hotel.

On her last trip into town, she had found a shop tucked away down one of the side streets. She’d assumed that the shop would be small, but it had been like an Aladdin’s cave inside, with floor-to-ceiling shelves groaning with soaps, potions and lotions of every imaginable colour and fragrance.

She’d been spoiled for choice.

After spending half an hour browsing the vast display of handmade soaps, she’d bought a box for the residents of the home on impulse.

Cerrie approached the linen trolley. ‘Ooh, something smells nice. Is that soap?’ she asked, eyebrows raised as she pointed to the box which was partly hidden on the lower shelf by a stack of pillowcases.

Laura smiled and shrugged. She didn’t want to make a big deal about it.

‘Can I have a look?’ Cerrie peered at the cardboard box.

‘Course you can.’ Laura picked up the box and placed it on top of the folded sheets.

Cerrie opened the box and was hit by the floral scent of lavender, jasmine and rose.

‘Oh, they are so pretty,’ Cerrie said. ‘Did you buy them from that new shop in town?’

‘Yes, I did, but I didn’t realise it was a new shop.’

‘Yup, only opened a few weeks back. Years ago it was a newsagent’s, but when old Mr Johanson died, nobody wanted to take it over so it remained an empty shell. It was such a shame. It’s wonderful to know that the shop is loved once more.’ Cerrie closed the lid. ‘This is such a lovely idea, giving everyone a soap.’

‘It’s just a little thing. It’s just, well, I know that some residents don’t see anyone all week. They don’t get any gifts.’ Laura shrugged and placed the box back on the lower shelf of the trolley.

‘Well, I think it’s lovely,’ Cerrie said.

‘Let’s go make these beds then.’ Laura pushed the trolley as they made their way along the corridor.

* * *

After all the beds had been made, Laura entered the day room.

Gertie dropped her book into the large, open floral bag by her feet, the one that went everywhere with her. She sat up straight and beckoned Laura over with a wave of her hand.

‘Hello, Gertie,’ Laura said. She dragged a stool over and sat down next to her. ‘How are you?’ She tilted her head to one side and smiled. ‘You look a lot brighter today.’

‘I feel much brighter, and rested,’ Gertie said. ‘But listen.’ She leaned forward in her chair to whisper in Laura’s ear. ‘There’s something I need to tell you.’

Laura nodded.

‘Well, the thing is, the morning staff kindly helped to bring my books down here to the day room. I needed to get out of my room. Been cooped up in there too long. But once I was settled, I realised I’d left my bag behind with the book I’m currently reading. I put it in my bag last night, before bed.’ Gertie looked down at her bag to prove her point. ‘Never go anywhere without it.’

Laura smiled, encouraging the older lady to carry on. She had no idea where she was going with this story, but it was obviously important to her.

‘There was nobody around to ask to fetch it for me. Everyone was far too busy and I felt awkward asking. They’d already been good enough to help me. So, I thought I’d go and fetch it myself.’ Gertie took a deep breath, then lowered her voice even more. ‘That’s when I saw her.’

‘Saw who?’ Laura asked.

‘Hazel,’ Gertie said in an exaggerated whisper.

‘Hazel? She was in your room?’

Gertie nodded.

‘Well, it is Friday, laundry day, but . . .’

‘But what?’ Gertie asked.

‘Well, I was going to say that she was probably stripping the bed, but when I checked your room, it hadn’t been done.’

‘Exactly. So, what was she doing in my room?’

Laura thought for a moment, then shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘She told me she was cleaning.’ Gertie had a look of disbelief on her face. ‘She was lying.’

‘How do you know she was lying?’ Laura asked.

Gertie gave Laura a stern look and sighed. ‘When have you known Hazel to clean? Plus, she had no cleaning stuff with her. No furniture polish or even a duster.’

‘Oh,’ Laura said.

‘Oh, indeed,’ Gertie said.

‘So, what was she really doing in your room, then?’

‘Snooping is what she was doing,’ Gertie said. ‘Caught her looking at my books. And before you say anything, I know there’s no crime in that, but she shouldn’t have been in there without a reason.’

‘You’re right,’ Laura said. ‘What would you like me to do about it?’

‘Nothing, love.’

‘Nothing?’ Laura had expected the older woman to have a checklist of what they needed to do. ‘I can report her to senior management.’

‘Ha.’ Gertie shook her head. ‘What good would that do? What would you tell them? That I saw her in my room reading a book? Hardly criminal behaviour.’

‘But it’s still wrong,’ Laura said.

‘I know, love. That’s why I need more evidence.’ She touched the side of her nose with her index finger. Her green eyes shone with renewed energy. ‘That’s why I’m sitting here. I’m on surveillance, gaining evidence. Information.’

Laura let out a short laugh. ‘I love the sound of that. I’ll keep an eye on her too.’

‘Good,’ Gertie said. Then she dropped her voice even lower.

‘Now, tell me again all about that date in the café with Richard. I need cheering up.’

Laura sighed but began to retell the story.