Rose gave a small wrinkle of her nose. “But me and Will thought we’d go for a mess around on the beach.”
Martha looked out of the window. The sun shone on the waves, making them sparkle. Perhaps it might be better if her niece and nephew were out of the way when Zelda arrived. “That’s fine. The two of you can go there now, if you like,” she said. “I’ll wait in for my, um, friend. Be back here in forty-five minutes.”
“Okay.” Will nodded, then paused with his hand in his pocket. “There is Wi-Fi down there, isn’t there?”
Twenty minutes after Will and Rose headed out, Gina knocked on the door. She carried Zelda’s turquoise suitcases into the cottage, a large one and an extra large. After that, she headed back to the car, then hoisted a fold-up wheelchair inside, too.
Zelda stood in the hallway, a little unsteady. She traced a finger along the floral wallpaper and held it there, as if propping herself up.
“Are you okay?” Martha asked.
Zelda nodded and looked around. “It feels so strange being back here. Like it’s not quite real.”
Martha understood what she meant. She felt the same way, too. “I’ve set up the main bedroom for you. Would you like to take a look?”
“That’s Betty’s room, isn’t it?”
Martha bit the inside of her cheek. She’d not considered how her nana might feel, staying in her own daughter’s room. “You can take my bed instead, if you like? My niece and nephew, Will and Rose, are staying over, too. They’ll sleep on inflatable mattresses on the floor downstairs.”
“I’ll look and decide later, thank you.” Zelda walked into the dining room, as if she was barefoot and treading on tacks. She pulled out the wooden chair and sat down, looking out of the window at the bay. The daylight highlighted the creases on her cheeks and the fine hairs around her mouth. “Do Will and Rose know who I am?”
Martha shook her head. “I thought you should meet Lilian first, so I’ve told the kids that you’re a friend, for now. Please don’t say anything otherwise.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Gina remained in the hallway and Martha headed back to speak to her.
“Ezmerelda’s been quiet for most of the journey here,” Gina said in a hushed tone. “If you can believe that.”
Martha glanced over at her grandmother. She didn’t seem her usual vivacious self. She was still looking out of the window, her expression contemplative. “Perhaps we should take her cases upstairs and give her a few moments alone.”
She and Gina each carried a suitcase upstairs and set them down next to the bed in her parents’ old bedroom. It was now clean and aired, and Martha had made the bed with fresh white linen. She’d left the window open and a breeze lifted the curtains and let them fall again.
“Your house looks very different to how it appeared the other day,” Gina said.
Her approval suddenly felt really important to Martha. Gina was Zelda’s carer, her guardian. “I’ve tidied up the best I can. I’m afraid I let things slide after my parents died,” she said. The waxwork-like figures of Thomas and Betty in their final days flashed in her mind but she wouldn’t let them stay. “I’m going to look at decorating next, but the amount of choice is so confusing.”
“I went out to look at printed wallpapers a couple of weeks ago, and there were hundreds of patterns to choose from,” Gina agreed. “It was most difficult. I ended up walking away, empty-handed.”
The two women smiled at each other, glad they’d found something in common other than Zelda.
“I’ll help Zelda all I can,” Martha said. “It means a lot to me for her to stay here.”
Gina gave a short nod. She seemed to measure up her next words. “It’s special for her, too. Though I am concerned that being here will stir up memories.”
“We could head down to the beach this afternoon, rather than stay around the house. My niece and nephew are down there, so we can say hello.”
Gina gave a short laugh. “I think you’ll find that Ezmerelda has other plans for you.”
“Plans?” Martha’s throat tightened.
“She said something about a football match. She watches them on the TV.”
“Oh.”
“I hoped she would relax more over the coming months and take things easier.” Gina adjusted her handbag on her shoulder. “I suppose that is not her style. She will stay with you overnight and then I will drive back to collect her at 5:00 p.m. tomorrow. Do you still have the postcard with my rules written on the back?”
Martha nodded. “I love the illustration of the Scottie dog.”
“I like to draw sometimes,” Gina said. “Please try to adhere to as many of the rules as possible. I know you’ll take care of her, and you have my number if you should need it.”
After they made their way downstairs, Gina walked over to Zelda and bent her head. She said something, then planted a kiss on her lips. Even though she whispered, Martha overheard her.
“I will miss you.”
“I doubt it.” Zelda grinned up at her. “I’ll be okay, though. See you soon.”
Martha felt a prickle of embarrassment, like she had intruded on a private moment. There was a chemistry between Zelda and Gina that she hadn’t noticed before, and Zelda’s melancholy seemed to evaporate like a puddle on a hot day.
“Don’t do anything adventurous,” Gina said as she moved away.
“I promise I won’t,” Zelda said before she winked at Martha.
26
Football
“Let me get this right,” Martha said as she counted on her fingertips. “You want to do a Read and Run, at Sandshift football ground, this afternoon? And you want me to accompany you?”
“Yes.” Zelda nodded firmly.
“But I have the kids to look after...”
“They can join us. They’ll love it.”
Martha’s heart thumped wildly. What on earth would Lilian think if she knew Will and Rose were accompanying their great-grandmother to a football match?”
“You look a little woozy,” Zelda said. “Have you been drinking again?”
“No, I haven’t,” Martha said sharply. “I told you, I don’t want to do this.”
“I know, but it’s my dy—”
“Yes, I know. Your dying wish. Why can’t you have a normal one, like going to Disneyland, or lunch at the Ritz?”
Zelda’s eyelids flickered. “We don’t have to do it.” She paused with a sniff. “I’m sure Harry will understand, if you tell him.”
“Um, Harry?”
“I’ve arranged it with him.”
Martha held her head in her hands. “And does Gina know about this?”
Zelda cast her eyes down.
“I thought not,” Martha said and let out a long sigh.
The chant, “Sandshift United, rah rah rah. Sandshift United, rah rah rah,” rung gladiatorial-like through the air as Martha, Zelda, Will and Rose approached the football ground.
Martha felt a bead of sweat form on her forehead and she brushed it away. She’d made an effort with her outfit today and wore Betty’s green sweater and beige wool coat again. It made her underarms hot and prickly as she pushed Zelda’s chair up the steep slope.
“I can do it. Let go of the handles,” Zelda kept shouting.
But Martha sustained a firm grip. It gave her a focus, so she didn’t panic about her nana’s plan for another Read and Run. She’d heard of knees knocking but didn’t think it actually happened. However, her knees were reverberating as they reached and entered the small reception area.
Harry was waiting for them, and Martha worried that the palm of her hand might feel clammy when he gave it a shake. “Martha,” he said and kissed her on the cheek, too. “Ye’re looking well. I’m glad ye ladies could make it.” He grinned.
Will and Rose smiled hello and started to circle the room, looking at the photographs on the wall of the Sandshift United teams over the years. Martha had introduced Zelda to them as “An old friend of the family,” and they hadn’t asked any questions.
“We’re raring to go,” Zelda said. “Just try stopping us.”
Martha smiled nervously from under her stripy hair.