often these days, because I know how much she hates being on her own, especially in the evenings, and she’s bound to be even more lonely now that she’s living somewhere new.
I pull into a parking space directly outside the Elysium Retirement Home, which Pearl renamed “Abandon Hope” when Dan and I moved her in on New Year’s Eve. I can’t see why she called it that, as it looks like a stately home to me. The diplomatic service look after their own, unlike Halfwits, and I’ll be lucky to afford something the size of one of the broom cupboards in a building like this when I retire.
* * *
I push open the main doors, then walk across the lobby and into a wide carpeted corridor that leads to Pearl’s new ground-floor flat.
“It’s open,” she shouts, when I ring the doorbell. “As long as you’ve brought some money with you, that is. We’re not messing about with buttons or IOUs tonight.”
That makes no sense whatsoever, until I open the door to reveal a dozen elderly people playing poker.
The cocktails are flowing and there are already plenty of competitors for the title of drunkest OAP, though Pearl’s not one of them.
“I pride myself on being able to hold my drink, Hannah,” she says. “Unlike some people I could mention. Now let me introduce you to the Hopeless gang.”
There are loads of people in Pearl’s flat, and I doubt I’d recognise any of them again, except for Albert and Fred, who I end up sitting between. Albert looks like Pope Francis, the nice one from Buenos Aires, while Fred looks more like the Child Catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I must count as a child, given the disparity in our ages, as that’s the only reason I can think of to explain why I keep finding Fred’s hand creeping up my leg under cover of the tablecloth.
* * *
“Bloody hell, Pearl,” I say, when she shows the last guest out, then joins me in the kitchen, where I’ve been hiding from Fiddling Fred for the last half-hour. “That Fred’s a creep, but I like your other new friends. You’ve made so many here, already!”
“You can’t waste time when you get to my age,” says Pearl. “Or yours, for that matter. You look terrible – what’s up?”
I’ve lost my bottle while I’ve been waiting to spill the beans and now I can’t go through with it. Telling people what’s happened makes it all seem far too real.
“Nothing much,” I say, swilling out a cocktail shaker and putting it aside to drain.
Pearl raises her eyebrows and says, “You’ve always been a poor liar, ever since you were a child, so leave the washing up and try again. And this time, make it the whole truth and nothing but.”
I do as I’m told, though I don’t mention that Dan said he doesn’t fancy me any more. That would be too humiliating, so I just say we had an argument about a television programme that turned into something much, much worse.
“Good God,” says Pearl, when I’ve finished. “Are you sure about this, Hannah? It’s no fun being on your own, you know. Why d’you think I agreed to move in here? This place has a better ratio of men to women than every other retirement place I looked at, which is not a lucky coincidence. I did my research, because I’m sick and tired of being alone after the last few years.”
So that’s why Pearl was doing sit-ups when I came round the other day – she’s on the pull, when I thought I was too old to find someone new!
“I’ll be fine,” I say. “I mean, I am fine. I won’t be on my own forever, after all.”
I try to conjure up an image of my fantasy Mr Suave, as Pearl looks me up and down, but he won’t appear. I just keep seeing Dan’s face instead, and Pearl clearly isn’t too impressed with what she sees when she looks at me, given how worried she’s now become.
“What?” I say. “Why are you looking at me like that? I’m miles younger than you and you’re not planning on remaining single, so why should I?”
“No reason,” says Pearl. “I just think you two splitting up is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. And who is this colleague Dan’s moving in with, anyway – do you know?”
Why do people keep asking that? I don’t know any of Dan’s colleagues, not least because he usually refuses to go to any of the few social events to which staff are allowed to bring their partners. He claims that’s because I have an even lower boredom threshold than he does, so I’d probably say something to get him sacked – but now Pearl’s implying that might not be the only reason, just like Esther did when I mentioned it to her the other day at work.
“I don’t know,” I say, “but that’s not the biggest problem, is it? Dan swears he isn’t leaving me for another woman, but he’ll find one at some point, once he’s living the single life.”
That thought makes me feel sick, which must show on my face, as Pearl decides the time has come for some distraction.
“Let’s go for a walk while we give this further thought,” she says. “I want to show you the gardens here. The residents can help in them, if they’re up to it, so I’m thinking of signing up myself. It’ll keep me fit, all that physical activity in the fresh air.”
* * *
Although it’s dark, the gardens are illuminated and exceptionally beautiful, even now in what’s still winter, and for the first time in years, I wish I’d brought a sketchbook with me. There’s nothing very artistic in designing stupid icons, but I’d love to draw the view from where we’re standing. It’s on the top of a steepish incline (which Pearl climbed a lot faster than me), and it overlooks a large area of dense, glossy greenery, that eventually gives way to a meandering path that leads to the Elysium building itself. The silver bark of the birch trees lining the path sparkles where the lights hit it, and the effect is spectacular. Abandon Hope, my arse.
“What are these?” I say, pointing at some tiny, glossy-leaved plants peeking out through a mass of dead foliage.
“Violas,” says Pearl, pointing her torch at them. “You can take one with you, if you like? Gardening’s good for the soul and the staff won’t notice. They rarely bother with this section.”
If gardening’s good for the soul, I’ll try it, and I might even draw the viola once it blooms, if I can persuade Dan to get my art materials out of the attic before he moves out – and maybe I’ll come back and sketch this landscape in the daytime, too.
Pearl pulls a tiny trowel out of one pocket, and a plastic bag from another, and then she digs up the plant and dumps it into the bag.
“Did I mention violas are also known as ‘heart’s-ease’, Hannah?” she says, handing me the bag. “On which note, why don’t you get off home now, while Dan’s still living there? You could always try talking to him about staying, instead of wasting time discussing what you’ll do without him once he’s gone.”
Even though I take Pearl’s advice and drive straight home, Dan’s already asleep on the sofa by the time
