it matters.’
‘You can tell me. I won’t tell a soul, I promise.’
‘I love watching old romantic films. Like Gone with the Wind and An Affair to Remember.’
Eileen’s mouth opened in a gasp. ‘I like those films too. How do you watch them?’
‘On DVDs. I collect them. Shall I show you?’
‘Yes please!’ Eileen followed her into the sitting room. Jean opened a cupboard. Eileen nearly fell over. The entire cupboard was a neat library of films. Row upon row of them. She began to read the spines. ‘Oh, I loved Doctor Zhivago. That’s a classic.’
‘Wasn’t Omar Sharif wonderful!’ gushed Jean excitedly.
‘Roman Holiday! What a smasher!’ Eileen couldn’t contain her pleasure. ‘I’d love to watch some of these.’
‘I’ll lend them to you, if you like. Do you have a DVD player?’
Eileen was bitterly disappointed. ‘No, I don’t. What a shame!’ She gazed longingly at all the films and bit her lip.
‘You can watch them here, with me, if you like. I mean, you don’t have to. It’s just a suggestion.’ Jean smiled tentatively.
‘That would be lovely. If you wouldn’t mind.’
‘Actually, I’d like the company.’
Eileen sighed. ‘I would too,’ she agreed, accepting at last that she was tired of being alone. ‘It’s lonely on your own, isn’t it?’ she said.
‘Yes, it is,’ said Jean.
‘We could start our own club,’ said Eileen enthusiastically. ‘A film club.’
‘What a good idea!’ Jean exclaimed. ‘A film club for two.’
‘Oh yes. Just for two. A very exclusive club. We’d better not tell anyone else or they’ll all want to join.’ The two women laughed. ‘Now, what would you like Daisy to paint so that Marigold remembers you?’
‘The cover of Gone with the Wind. We both agreed that that was our favourite film of all time. I’m sure she won’t ever forget that.’
A couple of weeks later Dennis and Daisy had completed the list and Daisy was making the preliminary sketches. Suze came round to see how the idea was progressing, then she sat with her mother and Nan in the kitchen and told them that she and Batty were moving out of his parents’ house because they had found a small flat in town. ‘It’s very nice,’ she said, looking a little apprehensive. ‘It’s a few yards from Starbucks, so I’ll never have to make my own coffee.’
‘You will when you realize how expensive coffee is,’ said Nan. ‘Much better to buy yourself a coffee machine and make it at home.’
‘There’s no fun in that, Nan. The whole point is to go in and people-watch. How do you think I get my ideas for the articles I write? I need to be with people, to see what they’re wearing and what they’re doing and to eavesdrop on their conversations.’
While Nan and Suze chatted Marigold sat quietly, trying to keep up. She watched them with a serene but vague look on her face. She picked up the name Batty and knew she should know who he was. It sounded so familiar. However, she knew better than to ask. She was certain that if she met him, she’d recognize his face. But the name on its own had no face attached to it at all.
‘Dad says you’re doing wonderful things in the garden,’ said Suze, wanting to include her mother in the conversation.
‘It’s full of weeds,’ Marigold replied slowly. ‘I must take them all out so they don’t . . .’ She searched for the word. ‘You know . . .’ She fumbled around in the fog. To her surprise, she found it. ‘Stifle the plants.’
Nan laughed. ‘There’s not a single weed left, Marigold. You’ve taken them all out, as well as a few good plants besides.’
‘I’m sure you’ll find one or two more, Mum. You’ve got a good eye,’ said Suze, upset by her grandmother’s impatient tone. ‘And you’re still feeding the birds, I see, even though it’s early autumn.’
Marigold smiled happily. ‘I like to watch them come into the garden,’ she said.
‘You used to have a friendly robin, didn’t you, Mum? Is he still here?’
Marigold nodded. ‘He’s still here,’ she said. ‘I feed him, even though it’s autumn.’
‘She’s getting very repetitive,’ said Nan to Suze, as if Marigold wasn’t there.
Suze was incensed. ‘If I remember rightly, Nan, you’re quite repetitive yourself.’
‘We’re all getting older. It’ll happen to you one day, you know. Nothing good about getting old!’ said Nan.
‘Old age is not for sissies,’ said Marigold with a grin.
‘That’s my line,’ said Nan.
Suze laughed. ‘I’d better be going. I’ve got a party tonight and I need to get