This Could Change Everything(99)

‘You mean while I’m at the hospice?’ Amused, she’d spread her hands. ‘What better place for it to happen?’

An hour later, having been enthusiastically welcomed back by both the staff and those residents who were in the sitting room, Zillah went to seek out Alice. She knocked gently on her door and said, ‘Hello, it’s me. Are you up for a visitor?’

‘I am. Come on in. Goodness, what a sight for sore eyes.’ Echoing what so many others had already told her, Alice said, ‘You look so well.’

‘Thanks. I was very lucky.’ Almost a fortnight had passed since she’d last been here. Outside the window, spring had truly sprung; green shoots had pushed their way up through the earth and the grounds were now bursting with colour and new life.

Whereas in this room, the change in Alice was equally noticeable, but in the other direction. She was thinner, greyer, visibly more exhausted. Zillah bent over the bed to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. ‘And thank you for the card. It was beautiful.’

‘I’m glad you’ve made such a good recovery.’ Alice’s pale eyes crinkled at the corners. ‘If you’d died before me, I think I’d have felt quite guilty, as if I’d somehow caused it to happen.’

And she didn’t even know. She had no idea. Disarmed by her honesty, Zillah said, ‘You almost did. The reason I fell off the chair was because I was looking for this to give to you.’ She took the photo out of her handbag and passed it to Alice, who looked stunned.

‘Really?’

‘Really. I thought you might like it.’

Alice studied the photograph for several seconds, nodding as the memory of the night it had been taken came back to her.

‘I do, very much.’ She looked amused. ‘Not at the expense of your life, though.’

‘I know. Although I did think I probably deserved it. But of course it was just one of those random things.’ Zillah shrugged. ‘Every action has a consequence, and all that.’

‘Well, I’m glad you’re still alive. I’d have felt bad if I’d killed you.’

‘See? And this is why you’re still one of the nicest people I’ve ever known.’ Zillah pulled up a chair and sat down. ‘Now, did Elspeth tell you why I come and spend time here?’

‘She did. She told me about the wishes.’ Alice coughed weakly, then nodded as she lay back against her pillows. ‘Such a lovely thing to do.’

‘I’d like to arrange one for you,’ said Zillah.

‘Me? Oh . . . that’s so kind.’ Alice paused. ‘But I can’t think of anything to wish for. Well, nothing that’s physically possible,’ she amended. ‘I think I’ve left it a bit late to take up skateboarding.’

‘OK, take your time. What was the happiest time of your life? Where was your favourite place? What did you most love doing when you were younger?’ These were the questions Zillah always asked, designed to trigger memories and ideas. ‘Is there one occasion that stands out?’

Alice’s face softened as she gazed into the distance.

‘Tell me what you’re thinking right now,’ Zillah prompted gently.

‘Nothing.’ Alice summoned an apologetic smile. ‘Well, not nothing, but it’s way beyond anything I could manage.’

‘Tell me anyway.’ From experience, Zillah knew that recalling happy memories brought its own kind of joy.

‘The ballet,’ Alice said simply. ‘Matthew took me to Covent Garden for my birthday. He’d bought tickets for us to see the Royal Ballet perform Swan Lake, and it was just the most magical experience of my life . . .’ Her thin fingers fluttered in an attempt to signify how perfect it had been. ‘I had no idea . . . I’d never been to the ballet before. And that was the night I fell in love with it. The music, the dancers, the feel of it . . . oh, it was all so stunningly beautiful, I thought I was in heaven.’ The corners of her mouth lifted once more at the memory. ‘And that was the start of my lifelong passion.’

Zillah’s eyebrows went up. ‘You danced?’

‘Oh gosh, no.’ Alice’s smile broadened. ‘I was just the biggest fan. Every opportunity I had, I’d go to the ballet. Nowadays I watch it on TV.’ She pointed behind Zillah, to the DVD player and the piles of DVDs lined up beside it. ‘Not the same, of course, but better than nothing. Have you ever been to the Royal Opera House?’

Zillah shook her head. Ballet had never particularly appealed to her. Matthew had once asked her if she’d like him to buy tickets for some production or other, but she’d said no. Back then, visiting Soho jazz clubs had been far more her idea of fun.

‘Matthew used to enjoy the ballet.’ Alice glanced fondly at the black-and-white photo. ‘Oh, bless him. I’m so glad he was happy at the end. How long ago did he die, do you know?’

Zillah did a double-take. ‘Matthew? He didn’t die. He’s still alive.’

‘Is he?’ Alice was visibly stunned. ‘Oh my God . . .’

‘Why did you think he was dead?’

‘I was sent one of those round-robin things in a Christmas card a couple of years back. From Jessica Hurd-Stockton, do you remember her? She was always one of those types who kept in touch with everyone. Anyway, she mentioned it, said how sad she’d been to hear that Matthew Carter had died. I mean, it was a bit of an odd letter, to be honest, quite a lot of talk about pigeons, but I didn’t have any reason not to believe her.’ Alice was still looking incredulous. ‘Are you absolutely sure he’s alive?’