Every Shade of Happy by Phyllida Shrimpton

Author:Phyllida Shrimpton [Shrimpton, Phyllida]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781803281346
Publisher: Head of Zeus

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ALGERNON

‘Grandad?’ The child stood in the garden, near to where Algernon had prepped his garden bench ready for varnishing. He glanced at her briefly. She looked like a summer sky with a simple yellow dress and a swathe of blue hair, and the vision of her melted the shadows in his soul.

‘Blast!’ he muttered under his breath, fighting to lever the lid off an old tin of varnish, his arthritic knuckles bulging with the effort of it. Recognising the child’s hesitant and questioning tone and her general air of uncertainty made him brace himself for whatever she was about to ask. He prised the end of an old spoon under the lip of the tin until the old varnish cracked and the lid popped off, landing on the ground. Next he dipped a paintbrush into the golden, syrupy varnish, carefully wiping the bristles on the edge of the tin to remove any surplus liquid.

‘I made this bench a great many years ago,’ he said, overriding the fact that she’d addressed him first. His hearing aids back in place, along with his conscience over the state of the garden, he administered careful sweeps of his brush along the freshly sanded wood, appreciating how it deepened in colour to a glossy rose brown. ‘With a bit of attention, it’ll be as good as new.’ He tried not to let it show how difficult he was finding it to complete a job he would have managed relatively easily not so long ago.

The child stepped forward and sat down cross-legged on the ground next to him. Her sunglasses matched the colour of her hair, but more surprisingly, he thought, she’d painted a pair of sandals on her feet. She was a quandary to be sure and he couldn’t help thinking why she couldn’t just have worn a real pair? Cat wandered out of Little Argel and hopped onto a low wall near them both, stretching languidly along the brickwork, warming his belly in the sun. The child reached out for him as he twisted his grey head towards her fingers. As Cat closed his big yellow eyes with bliss, Algernon realised he’d never offered any kind of fuss to the animal, merely living side by side with him since the day he walked in.

‘He likes you,’ he said, grunting in the direction of Cat and noting how he continued to lie purring and recumbent under the child’s gentle hand. It was obvious to him now that his own relationship with the animal had only ever been one of casual acquiescence and a part of him suddenly felt rather sorry about it. The child, stroking Cat’s grey fur, simply gave a half-smile and seemingly forgetting her reason for questioning him, continued to watch the varnishing process.

‘You must be really clever if you made that bench yourself.’ She sounded impressed, offering the kind of praise that Algernon had only ever received from Evie and, despite the bodge he was making of it, he felt a flutter of pride.

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