couple of bays over but she works for the catering van sometimes and Rory said he can introduce me to Davin O’Riordan if he’s there and we can hang out on the beach with the dogs.’ A pause for breath and she tilted her head to one side, for a moment looking so much like her father that it made me grind my teeth. ‘Is that all right?’
‘As it happens, yes, I’m going over to Steepleton to pick up Gabriel and visit Patrick’s owner in the hospital.’
‘I’ll get changed, then. Oh, and you can ask if Patrick can be ridden, can’t you? While you’re there?’
‘No,’ I said to her retreating back. And then, discovering that it was nearly nine o’clock, I panicked and dashed upstairs to try and beat her to the bathroom.
I dropped Poppy off at the turning circle between the beach and the harbour. Clearly it was a fate worse than death to be seen arriving with one’s mother, although since Rory knew she was fourteen I didn’t know why – did he imagine she’d drive herself? Poppy leaped from the car almost before I’d stopped and with a, ‘Thanks, Mum,’ and a slammed door she was gone, hair flying. She was wearing quite a lot of make-up too, I’d noticed. She must have been watching those YouTube tutorials again, because she’d had fat, drawn-on eyebrows and dark streaks of ‘contouring’ under each cheekbone. I knew better than to say anything, but the whole look was reminiscent of someone who’d fallen asleep in the vicinity of a four-year-old with crayons.
Fourteen. It was a hell of an age.
I parked the car between two vans, one with spools of wiring spilling from the side and a group of people standing about kicking at the wires, talking and pointing. An area of the nearby beach was taped off and empty, apart from a small wiry dog, which was dashing up and down with a piece of seaweed in its mouth.
The wind off the sea was cold. It held the tang of promised winter, and scuttered crisp packets and bronze leaves up and down the road as I walked up to the little row of shops that overlooked the sand.
‘Hello.’ Gabriel had been leaning against a wall outside the first shop, one leg up behind him on a rail and a long black coat billowing with the wind. ‘Good timing.’
He turned and gave a thumbs up to whoever was in the shop. When I peered through the window, which was heavily overhung with crocheted sea-scenes, I saw a young woman in multicoloured dungarees peering out. We looked awkwardly at one another for a moment, then she turned away to rearrange a series of knitted fish and a huge carved seagull on a shelf. ‘That’s my sister, Thea.’
‘Does she make all those things?’ I wanted to add, ‘And if so, why?’ but reasoned that, just because I couldn’t see the need for knitted haddock and crocheted postcards, didn’t mean they didn’t sell well.
‘Yeah.’ He unhooked his leg. ‘If you can make it out of wool, then Thea will make it. I suspect she’s started trying to weave herself a boyfriend in the back room. That loom is altogether too reminiscent of the three Fates; if she’s not careful she’ll start cackling and calling people “my pretty”. Sorry.’ He pushed at his glasses as the wind left his coat alone and started on his hair. ‘I’m a bit jaded.’
‘Preaching to the choir, mate,’ I muttered. ‘Shall we go?’
Bridport hospital was more modern-looking than I’d expected from an aspiring chocolate-box town. Inside it smelled as all hospitals do, of boiled sheets and industrial-strength cleaner. I followed Gabriel along corridors clustered with people standing chatting in varying degrees of clothing, some dragging IV stands, up two floors in the lift and on to G ward. I didn’t like to ask if the G was for ‘General’ or ‘Geriatric’; it wasn’t easy to tell from the occupants.
He led me down to a small bay right at the end of the ward, where big windows let a more normal light into the room, relegating the overhead lights to second place. ‘Hello, Granny Mary. This is Katie, who’s looking after Patrick for us.’
He didn’t raise his voice in a ‘talking to the hard of hearing’ way, nor slow his words as I noticed a lot of people doing when they talked to the elderly. It made me like him, in a curious way.
Granny Mary was sitting in a chair