Page 72 of The Secret Life of Beatrice Alright

‘Do either of you ladies play poker?’ Malcolm asks.

‘Grandad,’ Shayne says, in the same tone I use on the very rare occasions when I pull Ellie up on naughty behaviour.

‘Chess was fun, but I think we should play a real game now,’ Malcolm goes on, with a cheeky wink. ‘What do you say?’

‘I don’t know how to play poker,’ MrsMorgan confesses.

‘Me neither, I’m afraid,’ MrsBrennan adds.

‘Not to worry. It’s nothing I can’t teach you,’ Malcolm says, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out a deck of cards.

Shayne’s face is a picture as he looks on open-mouthed.

‘Is this all right?’ he asks me, as if I have the authority to approve anything around here.

‘So long as it’s not strip poker we should be fine,’ I whisper.

It takes a few rounds, but soon the ladies pick up the rules. I leave them to it, dipping my head back in every so often between floor-washing and bathroom-cleaning. Shayne sits in the corner with a laptop across his knees. He’s wearing thick-rimmed burgundy glasses that I’ve never seen on him before and his face is a picture of concentration. I can only assume he has the luxury of working from home and I find myself hoping it means he’s staying in Ireland a little longer. At first I think it pleases me because he’ll be here for Malcolm, but I quickly realise it makes me happy for me too. I’d miss him if he left. Butterflies flutter in my tummy at the thought of missing him and I’m glad when my phone dings and distracts me from exploring the feeling more. I glance around, making sure Elaine is nowhere in sight, before I slip my phone out of my pocket and find a message from Cora.

Hey. Well I survived Christmas and a million hints from my mam about making her a grandmother. Ugh!! Anyway, I’m home and I’d LOVE to catch up. You free later? I could pop around to your new place You still need to send me your address BTW xx

I start to type a reply but anything I say feels false and lie-like. I slip my phone back into my pocket and promise myself I’ll call Cora later. I can’t wait to hear all about her family Christmas.

The ward gets busy, just like yesterday, as curiosity brings other patients to join in the game. Someone takes out their wallet and soon there are notes and coins on the side of MrsBrennan’s bed like a scene fromCasino Royale, exceptinstead of tuxedos and evening dresses everyone is in pyjamas and slippers. After a couple of hours, exhaustion creeps in and patients retreat to their respective wards and rooms once again.

‘Thanks for coming,’ I say, as Shayne helps Malcolm tidy up.

MrsMorgan is back in bed, and MrsBrennan is asleep, snoring softly, with a rosy hue in her cheeks. She’s been ghostly pale since before Christmas. I know a game of poker isn’t a miracle cure for her failing health, but it makes me happy to see a hint of colour on her face, even if it means nothing more than that she had a fun couple of hours with new friends.

‘How about dinner tonight?’ Shayne says.

His question catches me off guard.

‘Or do you have plans again?’

‘I… I…’

I’m not sure what to say. Anything I say this time will most definitely be an obvious excuse, and I’d hate for him to think I don’t want to join him for dinner when the truth is that, if things were different, I’d love nothing more.

‘Ellie likes McDonald’s, right? Or is she more of a Burger King kid?’

‘Ew, Burger King.’ I make a face.

‘Okay, that’s settled then. McDonald’s it is.’

‘You don’t have to do this,’ I say. ‘I’m sure McDonald’s isn’t exactly your cup of tea.’

‘It can’t be worse than that place Shayne made us go last night,’ Malcolm joins in, shoving the last of the cards back into a small cardboard box with a picture of an eagle on the front.

‘Fine dining,’ Shayne says.

‘Oh.’

‘If I wanted to eat flowers on my dinner, I’d take a bite out of the garden,’ Malcolm goes on, shaking his head.

‘So, you see, McDonald’s is perfect,’ Shayne says.

‘Oh.’

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