This Could Change Everything(98)

‘I love having visitors.’

‘We know you do,’ said Essie. ‘But you know what the doctor said about taking things easy.’

Taking things easy was unbelievably tedious and Zillah had no intention of doing it, but she nodded and said, ‘Of course I will. Oh look, how gorgeous! Where did you get those?’ Because pinned up around the kitchen at eye level were lengths of bunting, thick paper triangles in ice-cream shades of pink and green, decorated with fine squiggly patterns and strung on yellow ribbon. She clapped her hands in delight. ‘Isn’t that just beautiful?’

‘Move closer,’ Conor prompted, passing over her reading glasses. ‘Put these on and take another look.’

Mystified, Zillah obeyed him. Slowly she realised that the patterns weren’t just random squiggles; they were written words. Then she saw what the words were saying, each triangle bearing a different message with a name beneath it:

Dearest Zillah, we’re missing you so much – this place isn’t the same without you! Penny at number 38.

Get well very soon, lovely lady – big hug from Philippa at the bridge club.

Very best wishes to the kindest lady I know. Terence x (postman)

To the old lady with the butiful smile and red lipstik. Sorry your poorley! Love from Ben (6) and Snowy (woof) xxxxx

To darling Zillah, our Queen of the Square! Make a speedy recovery please – we all love and miss you dreadfully. Jude and all at the Red House. XXX

Sending love and good wishes to the cheerful, stylish lady who just happens to be our favourite customer. From all the staff at Kaye’s Cake Shop.

There were many, many more messages but Zillah could no longer read them; her vision was too blurred with tears. Choked with emotion, she said, ‘But . . . how?’

Essie found her a tissue and gave her a hug. ‘Once word got out that you were in hospital, it just spread like wildfire. Everywhere we went, people were asking after you and telling us how wonderful you are. And I thought, everyone loves you but I don’t think you have any idea how much, or what a difference you make to their lives. So I started asking them to write little messages to you on my Facebook and Twitter pages . . . and it was like setting off an avalanche. These are only some of the messages, by the way.’ She gestured to the lengths of bunting with her free hand. ‘If I’d used all of them, we’d have had enough to decorate the whole of Percival Square.’

Zillah shook her head, touched beyond belief, both by the messages themselves and by Essie’s thoughtfulness. She was so used to presenting her smiling, perfectly made-up face to the world that scarcely anyone was aware of the feelings of not being a good enough person that lurked beneath.

But Essie knew.

‘The make-up girls at the shop where you buy your lipsticks sent you those.’ Essie pointed to a vase of appropriately striking crimson roses.

‘And the freesias are from one of the most annoying humans on the planet,’ said Conor. ‘But when I saw what he’d written on the card, I nearly cried.’

‘Who?’ Zillah dabbed at her eyes and he handed her the card: Dearest Zillah, I still have the beautiful letter you wrote to me after my mum died and will never forget your kind words. You’re a truly wonderful person. Please get well very soon. Brendan Banks.

Poor Brendan. He was incredibly annoying but he didn’t mean to be. Zillah remembered the afternoon last spring when she’d been sitting on one of the benches in the square and he had joined her, wondering if he was ever going to find himself a girlfriend. She’d assured him that it would happen when it was meant to happen, and then he’d talked a bit more about how much he was still missing his mum . . . Well, she’d tried her best to cheer him up, but another year had passed and the poor man still hadn’t managed to find a girl to share his life.

‘And this basket of flowers is from everyone at the hospice,’ Essie continued. ‘Elspeth dropped them off this morning. She said to tell you that they all send their love – well of course they do! – and they hope they’ll see you back there as soon as you’re fit and well again.’

Zillah glanced up once more at the pastel-shaded bunting fluttering gently in the breeze from the open window. Queen of the Square . . . How she’d always glowed with happiness when people had teasingly called her that. So many messages, so many kind words; it was just the most extraordinary feeling. If she were to die now, she would die happy.

It was as if she’d been magically granted her very own last wish.

Except she wasn’t about to die, which was even better.

She gave Essie’s arm a squeeze. ‘Oh I’ll definitely be seeing them again soon. I can’t wait to go back.’





Chapter 47


Well this was nice, being allowed to leave the house unaccompanied. Zillah smiled to herself; it was like being let out on parole.

Not currently allowed to drive, she had insisted on calling a taxi to take her to St Mark’s.

‘But I can take you there,’ Essie had protested. ‘I won’t get in your way, I promise. I’ll just wait in the car, then drive you home again afterwards.’

Zillah, busy spraying her neck and wrists with scent, had said, ‘Darling, you have to stop worrying about me. I’ll be fine.’

‘But what if you’re not? What if you’re taken ill?’