Everything We Keep by Di Walker (inspirational books .TXT) 📕

small jug of milk filled to halfway, Agatha walked carefully down the hallway, not wanting to make any sound that would suggest things would tip off the tray. ‘Here it is,’ she said as she walked back into the room. Rita had repositioned herself so that she sat up taller.

‘Bring it over here,’ she said, patting her lap. ‘Well done. Are the legs locked onto place?’ she asked lifting it slightly to check.

‘Yes. I did it just like you said.’

‘Would you like a cup too? There’s plenty in the pot.’

Agatha shook her head and moved to the window and sat in the armchair that was facing the bed.

‘That’s my husband’s chair, you know. He used to sit there every morning to do up his shoelaces before going to work. It’s funny the habits people have. He wouldn’t do up his shoes anywhere else.’

Agatha ran her hands along the smooth arms of the chair, imagining Rita’s husband sitting here. ‘Where did he work?’

‘He was an accountant, a partner in a firm in the city. If you look in that wardrobe over there, I still have some of his suits and ties. I just can’t bear to get rid of them.’ Agatha opened he wardrobe and saw the suits, perfectly lined up. A shallow drawer with a glass top displayed the ties, neatly rolled and in neat rows.

‘My dad used to wear suits. I don’t remember what his job was, but I remember him wearing suits and going to work every day,’ Agatha said. She held the cuff of one of the sleeves in her hands, gently rubbing it between her fingers as a picture of her dad walking down the street and waving goodbye to her came into her mind.

‘Does your mother work?’ Rita asked as she poured herself a cup of tea from the pot.

‘She did before I was born but I don’t remember much about that either. I remember she used to take me to a park that was near our house. There was one of those swings made out of an old tyre. Have you seen them?’

‘Ah huh. I know what you mean. Ugly old things.’

‘She liked to paint. I remember her having an easel set up on the back veranda and a small one for us . . . ’ Agatha closed the wardrobe and looked at Rita, who seemed preoccupied with the contents of the teapot.

‘Sorry dear, what did you say?’

‘I said my mum liked to paint, like for real, you know. She had an easel set up for me too.’

‘Oh, lovely. Did she teach you?’

Agatha nodded her head, relieved that Rita hadn’t heard what she had said the first time. She moved back to the chair and sat down, twisting her fingers in her lap before, once again, spreading them out on the smoothness of the chair’s arms.

‘Katherine said to me that you might get to stay longer and that you might be going to school here. Any ideas which one?’

Agatha shook her head. ‘It’s too early to decide.’

‘Well I’m sure you and Katherine will make the right decision. Now, I know it’s early and you’ve only just had breakfast, but what do you think about a small treat?’

Agatha smiled and nodded.

‘When you get to the kitchen, look at the tall cupboard on the left, next to the refrigerator and on the second top shelf you’ll see a tin labelled First Aid. That’s what we need.’

‘Oh, do you need a new bandage . . . I think Katherine is the best one to . . . ’

‘Agatha, dear, just go and get the tin.’

Agatha did as she was told and when she carried it back, she went to hand it to Rita who waved her hand. ‘No, no. You open it,’ Rita said.

To Agatha’s delight the First Aid tin was not filled with bandages. Instead it was filled with the sparkling glow of multi coloured wrappers, each holding a delicious treat.

‘Rita!’ Agatha said, her eyes showing her surprise at the unexpected contents.

‘Whatever you do, don’t tell my grandchildren, or my sons for that matter about this tin or there will never be any left for us. You, Agatha, can help yourself whenever you like. Deal?’

With a smile that spread wide across her face, Agatha dipped her hand in the tin and took out a purple wrapper. ‘Deal.’

19

Nell didn’t call Monday morning, instead she arrived, a few minutes after nine. Having spent longer on their morning walk, because of the cool change that had swept through overnight, Katherine and Agatha were still having breakfast when she rang the doorbell.

‘Perfect timing,’ Katherine said as Nell followed her into the kitchen. ‘I was just about to make another cup of tea. Want one?’

‘Actually, coffee would be good.’

Katherine nodded. Agatha hadn’t moved from the table. She picked at the crust on the side of her toast. She had had these types of conversations so many times and couldn’t remember many when she had gotten what she wanted. If Nell began with the words Agatha, I’m sorry, then that would mean she was going back. Agatha wouldn’t need to keep listening because those words meant that no one was listening to her.

With the crust removed, she took two more bites, dusted the crumbs off her hands and sat back in her chair. Nell was watching Katherine make the coffee and the two were making small talk.

‘So?’ Katherine said, placing her cup on the table and Nell’s in front of the chair that Lawson usually sat in.

Nell looked at Katherine and then to Agatha and took in a deep breath.

‘Agatha, I’m sorry. . . ’

‘I knew it. Don’t worry about it. I’ll go and pack,’ Agatha said, throwing her arms into the air.

‘Wait. What? I haven’t finished,’ Nell said.

‘I know what comes next, Nell. The sorry always comes before ‘pack your bags, your parents want you back’. I know. You’re not the first one to say sorry.’

Agatha stood up, the chair pushing back into the wall behind her.