Page 5 of Sing it, Sam

Chapter Two

Over the next few days, when Kathleen allows it, I leave reception and wander the halls. I’ve introduced myself to the maintenance staff and groundskeepers, and subject to sleeping patterns, I’ve nearly met all the residents. In particular, Mr Blandford is quite the character. He ran the local funeral parlour until he retired. Given the opportunity, he’ll chew my ear off about how the skin goes through several colour changes after death and how organs start digesting themselves.Urgh.

Overall, everyone has been friendly, but one particular resident holds my interest.For obvious reasons.

The one who stole a kiss.

A walkie-talkie squelches beside me. I turn to find Kathleen at the rear of the office.

“Yes, and Paige? Please make sure room ten receives the correct meds today,” Kathleen says into the handheld device with a huff. “We don’t need that kind of excitement again. Someone could get hurt.”

Room ten?

“Will do,” Paige replies.

Kathleen mumbles to herself as she slips the handset into its charger and sits beside me.

“You can take your afternoon break now if you like,” she says and smiles, but there’s no crinkles at the sides of her eyes. Is she still annoyed about Sam getting the better of me the other day or is it the medication mix-up? I’d sure like to know what happened with that.

It’s none of my business.

Even if it does involve the stranger who kissed me on a whim.

“Thanks. I’ll go stretch my legs,” I say.

Kathleen sighs heavily and positions her glasses on top of her head. She fixes a smile on her face. “Are you finding everything okay? Need me to run through anything again?”

“I think I’m good, thanks. After my break I’ll proofread the brochure you emailed me, and then I’ll check the admin mailbox and do my best to answer any queries.”

“Perfect. Now, don’t be afraid to ask if you need help. No question is silly. I want you to be happy here.”

“Thanks,” I say and sigh.

I take a muesli bar out of my bag and stroll outside to the main courtyard off the dining hall. The sun beams down through a giant willow tree which stands tall in the centre of the paved area, its long branches dancing in the light breeze. I approach one of the four park benches that box in the wide base of the tree.

This bench has a tarnished brass engraved plague in the middle of the backrest.

For Judith

How I will miss your smiling face and your blessed heart.

Until we soar together,

Love Fred x

I hold my hand over my heart as I imagine the pain and sorrow Fred must have felt arranging this. What a touching tribute to his late wife.Was this where she used to sit? Were they both in here together in one of the larger rooms meant for couples?

As I munch on my snack, I imagine the long life they might’ve had together. Were they high school sweethearts, or did they find each other later in life? Did they have a hoard of children and grandchildren, and maybe great-grandchildren who came after them? What were they like when they were young? Were they born and bred in Willow Creek, or did they travel the world and find themselves settling here?

A tall man with grey tufts of hair above his ears shuffles into the courtyard in his slippers. “Young lass,” he announces as he approaches, tucking the front of his white button-down shirt into his faded black pants.

“Good afternoon,” I say, and smile, recognising him from the dining hall. We haven’t formally met.

“Did you catch Mr Trouble?” he asks, a smirk at the corner of his wrinkled mouth.

A soft laugh rumbles up my throat. “Eventually.”

“I’m Frederick Bajagon,” the man says, and extends his hand.

---