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“I’ll get my coat,” Rose said, already heading for the door.
Dressed against the chill, they settled side by side as music carried across the courtyard. Rose hummed along, tapping her fingers against her leg in time. She sang softly, too — never once out of tune, never faltering over the words — even when Lucie found herself struggling to remember them. Music, Lucie always felt, lived somewhere deeper than memory, untouched by whatever else had begun to slip away.
“I used to work in Botswana. The people there love to sing, especially at Christmas.” Lucie pulled her phone from her pocket and flicked through her photos. “Look, this is from last Christmas.”
She held the phone out as music poured from it. A woman’s voice sang out, strong and clear, her words were answered at once by a crowd gathered behind her. They sang in harmony, some clapping, others swaying gently where they stood.
Rose’s body began to sway with the music. “I recognise the tune, but the words...”
“Joy to the World,” Lucie said softly. “They sing some of it in Setswana.”
Rose watched intently, her fingers tapping in time against her leg again. When it ended, she said, “I liked that.”
“They’re magnificent, aren’t they?” Lucie said, recalling her nervousness the first time Grace had taken her along to one of her church services. Not being religious at all, she had still found a sense of peace in the close-knit community.
“They must be cold,” Rose observed. “They’re all in summer clothes.”
“It’s fairly hot there at Christmas. It’s the height of summer.”
As Lucie returned her phone to her pocket, it beeped and then beeped again.
“You’re popular today,” Rose said.
“It seems so,” Lucie said, opening the notifications. The first reply from her dad read.
Fine by me, if Mandy is okay with it. Frances and Rose, I assume.
Followed by Mandy’s reply: Of course! The more the merrier. X
A wink emoji followed. Typical Mandy.
Lucie could barely contain her excitement. She wanted to mention it to Rose but stopped herself. The idea needed to be run past Frances first, so it would have to wait until later.
As they returned to the house, Lucie pulled the puzzle from her rucksack.
“I brought this from home. I used to do it with my gran,” she said, showing it to Rose.
Rose studied it. “I’m not very good at puzzles these days.”
“This one is different from your ones. Look.” Lucie lifted the lid. “The pieces are larger and not so fiddly. I find it much easier, so I hope you will too.”
Rose took a piece out, turning it in her fingers. “Oh, yes. I like this. And such a pretty picture,” she said, tapping the front of the box.
“Shall I make us some tea, and we can get started?” Lucie said, carrying it to the table. “I’ve brought some lebkuchen, too, if that tempts you.”
“Yes. I love lebkuchen. I thought we had some, but Frances must have eaten it all.”
Lucie smiled to herself as she headed off to make the tea.
At a quarter to five, Lucie heard the key in the lock, much to her relief. If Frances couldn’t keep up her end of the bargain, it would make things difficult. She didn’t want to tell Hannah that she was late again because she was caring for the previous CEO. Not that she would; she’d reluctantly have to lie again. The news of Rose’s condition was for Frances to tell, if she wanted to, but she had a feeling word would spread slowly by itself.
“Oh, it’s lovely and warm in here,” Frances said, stepping into the sitting room. “It’s bitter out there! I hope you’re rostered inside the hall this evening, Lucie.”
“Me too.”
“How have things been since I left? Did you eat your lunch, Mum?”
“Yes, all of it.”
