The Speed of Mercy by Christy Ann Conlin

Author:Christy Ann Conlin [Conlin, Christy Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: House of Anansi Press Inc
Published: 2021-02-22T20:48:19+00:00

The Poet and the Podcaster.

Now

This time Mal walked through the front doors of the Jericho County Care Centre and went to the front desk. She pumped the hand sanitizer on the counter as she waited by the Plexiglas screen. Not that there had been anyone outside when she arrived — the bench where the old lady was sitting last time, empty. She asked for Grace Belliveau. It was simple, and Mal wished she had done this the first time, instead of acting on her nerves and speaking to the old lady. The young guy at the desk put the phone down. “I can’t reach her. Do you want me to page her?”

“Yes, that would be awesome.” Mal smiled, waiting for him to ask her name but he didn’t.

He pressed a button on the phone and Grace’s name came out over the loudspeaker. Mal wondered what it would be like to live in a place where there were announcements and pages. She couldn’t imagine. There was a sign reminding visitors not to shake hands or hug, and not to take photos or videos anywhere on the premises.

Then Grace was at the desk, smiling as she came over to Mal. They didn’t shake hands. Grace was friendly but reserved, her smile thin but sincere. Grace, unlike Mal, was not reckless.

“Hi. You were looking for me?”

“Yes, I’m doing some research. Jillian at the historical society said you worked here. I’m hoping you can help me. I was driving by and just thought I’d . . . stop in.” Mal knew this sounded ludicrous. But she hadn’t called for fear Grace would refuse to speak to her. Mal didn’t mention meeting the old lady with the clicking teeth, or her encounter with Dianne or Stella. She had the good sense to keep this from Grace. It would look like she was interrogating the residents without having gone through the official channels — exactly what she had done.

“My name is Mal. I’m a journalist and I’m working on a story about an international company with ties to rural Nova Scotia. I was hoping you could help put me in touch with Stella Sprague. I believe she lives here.”

Grace stopped smiling. “I can’t discuss residents, Mal. And in order to speak to Stella you would have to talk to her guardian. And that would involve contacting the Department of Community Services.”

“But doesn’t she have any relatives?” Mal realized she hadn’t even given this woman her full name, or said where she was working. “I was talking to a friend of hers, Seraphina?”

Grace laughed and then quickly composed herself. “Ah, yes, Seraphina. Well, I would take everything she says right now with a grain of salt. How do you know her?”

It came out of her mouth before she could think of something professional to say. “Her mother was friends with my mother . . . when they were kids . . . a long time ago.”

“Oh, so you’re from here?” Grace’s voice was professional and controlled, but curious.

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