Page 51 of An Unholy Affair
It might have been helpful to have had this conversation with Estelle. However, Estelle was one of Jack’s oldest friends, and Eveline didn’t feel comfortable bringing up this subject. The previous year, when Estelle had finally turned up at the bar, Eveline didn’t tell her about the mysterious Jasper. Now she was glad she hadn’t. It would have been even more awkward for Jack if his friends knew he’d given her a false name and mistaken her for another woman.
Foxbrooke Haven layon the outside of the village, set back from the road in a couple of acres of gardens. The main building had been built in the eighteen-hundreds for a wealthy family in the wool trade. It housed the communal areas and the residents who needed the most care.
Dotted around the property were more modern buildings, containing self-contained flats for those with more independence.
‘Simon’s mother, Gladys, lives in the main house,’ Eveline told him as they approached. ‘We’ll pop to the office first so I can introduce you to Erica. She’s the manager.’
She entered the code for the building and led Jack inside, unbuttoning her coat as the hot and stuffy air hit her.
Jack unwound her scarf from his neck. ‘Now, this is a temperature I can get behind.’
‘More like the south of France?’
He scrunched his nose. ‘If you remove the smell of bleach and boiled cabbage.’
‘You get used to it. Erica’s office is this way.’
After Eveline knocked on a door further down the corridor, a smiling woman in her fifties opened it and ushered them into a room.
‘Ooh, and who might this handsome stranger be?’ She gave Jack a blatant once over and extended her arm. ‘Erica Conway. Are you looking to move in? You’re a bit young, but I know our staff won’t mind. In fact, they’ll be queuing up to offer you a bed bath.’
‘Erica!’
Jack laughed and shook Erica’s hand. ‘I’m Jack, a friend of Eveline’s. She’s roped me into helping with the mural.’
‘Are you an artist?’
‘Well, not—’
‘Yes, he is,’ Eveline interrupted. ‘He’s incredible.’
‘Alrighty then,’ said Erica. ‘I’ll take you through to the lounge and show you where it’s going to be.’
The social hub of Foxbrooke Haven consisted of three rooms that had been knocked through into a much larger one. The lounge overlooked the garden, and one end wall had been cleared of pictures and painted white.
‘This is our blank canvas,’ Erica said. ‘We’ve been given paints and brushes by a local company but didn’t want to start without a plan or direction from someone who knew what they were doing.’
‘Acrylics?’ Jack asked.
Erica looked blankly at him.
‘The paints,’ he added.
‘They’re in tubes. That’s as far as my knowledge goes.’
‘Eveline told me the plan was to paint the residents and staff, and some of their memories of Foxbrooke?’
‘Yes, although…’ She lowered her voice slightly. ‘Noteveryoneis keen.’ Erica’s gaze flicked to a chair halfway down the room, where Gladys Little was sitting. She was clutching a magazine in her arthritic hands and watching them as if they were about to steal the family silver. Eveline smiled at her and waved, determined to treat even the most challenging people with compassion.
‘Is that Simon Little’s mother?’ Jack asked Erica.
Her eyes widened. ‘Yes! It is, do you know her?’
The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘No, but I know Simon, and there’s a strong family resemblance.’
Erica’s eyes were sparkling. ‘Hmm,’ she said, non-committally. ‘So then, Jack, what’s your plan for this and how can we help? It would be amazing if we could get it done by Christmas.’
Nodding, he stood back a couple of feet, taking in the space.
