it made her sad that he had so many health concerns.
‘I will pop in and say hello,’ she answered.
‘Just don’t expect much,’ Jean said.
After breakfast Sophie went upstairs to her uncle’s room. He was sitting looking out of the window. She went over and kissed him gently on the head.
‘Hello, Uncle Tom. How are you today?’
He looked at her with a vague expression, so different from the day before. Sophie could tell he didn’t remember who she was, so she gently nudged him towards the truth.
‘It’s Sophie, remember? I’m Alice’s daughter.’
He nodded then. ‘Alice is dead, you know.’
The pain of those words struck her hard even though they were the truth. ‘Yes, I know,’ she replied, softly.
‘A car accident, such a horrible thing,’ he stated, reminding Sophie of how hard the last year had been.
She quickly changed the subject. ‘What are you doing today, Uncle Tom?’
He looked at her and then looked down at an unopened newspaper in his lap that Jean had possibly put there. ‘Looks like I’m reading,’ he said – more of a statement, than an affirmation.
She nodded. ‘Can I do anything for you?’
He stared back out the window, his silence answering her.
‘I’m going into town if you’d like anything.’
He shook his head, and she made her way to the door. On the way out her eyes were drawn to a painting on a sideboard and she couldn’t help but pick it up and look at it. It was an original; sparrows all sitting on a branch. Could it be anything to do with Vivienne? She caught her breath and turned it over. It was dated during the war.
Tom must’ve seen what she was looking at out of the corner of his eye and turned around. ‘My sister gave me that. She painted it herself,’ he said, almost matter-of-factly.
‘Caroline?’ enquired Sophie, her heart thumping.
‘No, not Caroline…’ he muttered but he didn’t elaborate, just looked out of the window, numbly. But she knew. Something inside her told her this was from Vivienne.
Sophie rebuked herself for letting him see her pick it up. She hadn’t wanted to bring up any memories of his lost sister to him after her gran’s warning. But she wondered what the picture’s significance was and if he was going to say anything more.
He nodded his head. ‘Lovely green eyes. She had beautiful green eyes, my sister did, just like yours. I still remember the words she said to me like it was yesterday. “Don’t forget who I am, Tom. Don’t ever forget.”’
He then stopped abruptly, as though his brain had just disconnected, and he said no more on the matter, though she waited for a couple of moments, just in case a thought returned. But instead he noticed the newspaper and picked it up and appeared to be reading the headlines. Then, he stated to her in an even tone, ‘Liquorice allsorts. Could you pick me up some liquorice allsorts from town?’
Sophie nodded, placed the picture back down, left the room, and went back to her own to continue her research about nurses during the war in Cornwall.
Once the clock chimed eleven in her bedroom, she shut down her laptop, plugged it in to charge, and made her way into town. It wasn’t very far, so she decided to leave her car behind, as it was a nice walk. She strode through the countryside, inhaling the fresh salty air. It was raw and chilly with a light frost still dusting the fields, even though it was late morning. Bracing, as her mother always used to say, and as the air rippled through her lungs like icy needles, she liked the way it felt, chilling her face and clearing her head.
Helford village was busier than usual because it was market day, and she made her way into the village hall where the scent of lemon wax polish and strong coffee greeted her. All around the room little stalls were set up on long trestle tables. Instantly, Sophie could tell she had walked into the bustling heart of the village. People stood in groups socialising with each other and getting out from the seasonal chill. The room echoed with the chatter of housewives and pensioners, and the aroma of home-baked goods was wonderful. Browsing each stall, she picked up some handmade watercolour cards and some herbal tea to say thank you to her auntie for having her, and there was a confectionary stall where she managed to get her uncle’s liquorice allsorts.