tea.
“Harriet!” says Ginny to a pink-cheeked girl in glasses. “This is Sadie’s great-niece Lara. She wants that lovely dragonfly necklace that Sadie used to wear. Have you seen it?”
Oh God. Why did she have to put it like that? I sound like some horrible grasping person out of Scrooge.
“I don’t want it for me,” I say hastily. “I want it for … a good cause.”
“It isn’t in Sadie’s box,” Ginny explains. “Do you know where it could be?”
“Is it not?” Harriet looks taken aback. “Well, maybe it wasn’t in the room. Now you mention it, I don’t remember seeing it. I’m sorry, I know I should have taken an inventory. But we cleared that room in a bit of a rush.” She looks up at me defensively. “We’ve been so stretched. …”
“Do you have any idea where it could have gone?” I look at them helplessly. “Could it have been put somewhere; could it have been given to one of the other residents …”
“The jumble sale!” pipes up a thin dark-haired nurse sitting in the corner. “It wasn’t sold by mistake at the jumble sale, was it?”
“What jumble sale?” I swivel around to face her.
“It was a fund-raiser, two weekends ago. All the residents and their families donated stuff. There was a bric-a-brac stall with lots of jewelry.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Sadie would never have donated this necklace. It was really special to her.”
“Like I say.” The nurse shrugs. “They were going from room to room. There were boxes of stuff everywhere. Maybe it was collected by mistake.”
She sounds so matter-of-fact, I suddenly feel livid on Sadie’s behalf.
“But that kind of mistake shouldn’t happen! People’s stuff should be safe! Necklaces shouldn’t just
disappear!”
“We do have a safe in the cellar,” Ginny puts in anxiously. “We ask residents to keep anything of real value in that. Diamond rings and so forth. If it was valuable, it should really have been locked up.”
“It wasn’t valuable exactly, I don’t think. It was just … important.” I sit down, rubbing my forehead, trying to organize my thoughts. “So can we track it down? Do you know who was at this jumble sale?” Doubtful looks are exchanged around the room, and I sigh. “Don’t tell me. You have no idea.”
“We do!” The dark-haired nurse suddenly puts down her cup of tea. “Have we still got the raffle list?”
“The raffle list!” says Ginny, brightening. “Of course! Everyone who came to the sale bought a raffle ticket,” she explains to me. “They all left their names and addresses in case they won. The star prize was a bottle of Baileys,” she adds proudly. “And we had a Yardley gift set—”
“Do you have the list?” I cut her off. “Can you give it to me?”
Five minutes later I’m clutching a four-page photocopied list of names and addresses. There are sixty-seven in all.
Sixty-seven possibilities.
No,
possibilities
is too strong a word. Sixty-seven outside chances.
“Well, thanks.” I smile, trying not to feel too daunted. “I’ll investigate this lot. And if you
do
come across it…”
“Of course! We’ll all keep an eye out, won’t we?” Ginny appeals around the room, and there are three nods.
I follow Ginny back through the hall, and as we approach the front door she hesitates.
“We have a visitors’ book, Lara. I don’t know if you’d like to sign it?”
“Oh.” I hesitate awkwardly. “Er … yes. Why not?”
Ginny takes down a big red-bound book and leafs through it.
“All the residents have their own page. But Sadie never had very many signatures. So now that you’re here, I thought it would be nice if you signed, even though she’s gone. …” Ginny flushes. “Is that silly of me?”
“No. It’s sweet of you.” I feel a renewed guilt. “We should have visited more.”
“Here we are.” Ginny’s flipping through the cream pages. “Oh, look! She did have one visitor this year! A few weeks ago. I was on
“Harriet!” says Ginny to a pink-cheeked girl in glasses. “This is Sadie’s great-niece Lara. She wants that lovely dragonfly necklace that Sadie used to wear. Have you seen it?”
Oh God. Why did she have to put it like that? I sound like some horrible grasping person out of Scrooge.
“I don’t want it for me,” I say hastily. “I want it for … a good cause.”
“It isn’t in Sadie’s box,” Ginny explains. “Do you know where it could be?”
“Is it not?” Harriet looks taken aback. “Well, maybe it wasn’t in the room. Now you mention it, I don’t remember seeing it. I’m sorry, I know I should have taken an inventory. But we cleared that room in a bit of a rush.” She looks up at me defensively. “We’ve been so stretched. …”
“Do you have any idea where it could have gone?” I look at them helplessly. “Could it have been put somewhere; could it have been given to one of the other residents …”
“The jumble sale!” pipes up a thin dark-haired nurse sitting in the corner. “It wasn’t sold by mistake at the jumble sale, was it?”
“What jumble sale?” I swivel around to face her.
“It was a fund-raiser, two weekends ago. All the residents and their families donated stuff. There was a bric-a-brac stall with lots of jewelry.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Sadie would never have donated this necklace. It was really special to her.”
“Like I say.” The nurse shrugs. “They were going from room to room. There were boxes of stuff everywhere. Maybe it was collected by mistake.”
She sounds so matter-of-fact, I suddenly feel livid on Sadie’s behalf.
“But that kind of mistake shouldn’t happen! People’s stuff should be safe! Necklaces shouldn’t just
disappear!”
“We do have a safe in the cellar,” Ginny puts in anxiously. “We ask residents to keep anything of real value in that. Diamond rings and so forth. If it was valuable, it should really have been locked up.”
“It wasn’t valuable exactly, I don’t think. It was just … important.” I sit down, rubbing my forehead, trying to organize my thoughts. “So can we track it down? Do you know who was at this jumble sale?” Doubtful looks are exchanged around the room, and I sigh. “Don’t tell me. You have no idea.”
“We do!” The dark-haired nurse suddenly puts down her cup of tea. “Have we still got the raffle list?”
“The raffle list!” says Ginny, brightening. “Of course! Everyone who came to the sale bought a raffle ticket,” she explains to me. “They all left their names and addresses in case they won. The star prize was a bottle of Baileys,” she adds proudly. “And we had a Yardley gift set—”
“Do you have the list?” I cut her off. “Can you give it to me?”
Five minutes later I’m clutching a four-page photocopied list of names and addresses. There are sixty-seven in all.
Sixty-seven possibilities.
No,
possibilities
is too strong a word. Sixty-seven outside chances.
“Well, thanks.” I smile, trying not to feel too daunted. “I’ll investigate this lot. And if you
do
come across it…”
“Of course! We’ll all keep an eye out, won’t we?” Ginny appeals around the room, and there are three nods.
I follow Ginny back through the hall, and as we approach the front door she hesitates.
“We have a visitors’ book, Lara. I don’t know if you’d like to sign it?”
“Oh.” I hesitate awkwardly. “Er … yes. Why not?”
Ginny takes down a big red-bound book and leafs through it.
“All the residents have their own page. But Sadie never had very many signatures. So now that you’re here, I thought it would be nice if you signed, even though she’s gone. …” Ginny flushes. “Is that silly of me?”
“No. It’s sweet of you.” I feel a renewed guilt. “We should have visited more.”
“Here we are.” Ginny’s flipping through the cream pages. “Oh, look! She did have one visitor this year! A few weeks ago. I was on
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