Chapter 11: The Small Room

Everyone wanted the room beside the washing machine once nobody important had chosen it.

Elaine reached its doorway first.

"This will do," she said.

Rupert looked past her at the solid walls and ordinary tiled floor.

"I'll check it."

Pippa stayed beside me and waited.

That alone made the room feel different from every family weekend I'd spent near a tumble dryer.

There was a small sofa, an empty shelf, and a window facing the side garden.

The washing machine stood beneath a counter with a chipped edge.

A plain bolt had been fitted inside the door.

It wouldn't stop a ghost.

It might stop my relatives appointing someone else to bring them blankets.

"Pippa, you're welcome to use this room with me," I said.

"For our own things, and somewhere to sit without being allocated."

She put her bag on the sofa and sat down.

"Thank you," she said.

The gratitude was for the choice as much as the furniture.

I knew because I'd wanted the same thing outside the velvet rope.

Elaine stood in the doorway holding her handbag.

"There isn't room for all of us."

"You can stay in the sitting room," I said.

"I've offered it."

My aunt looked toward the corridor where chairs had been moving by themselves.

"That was before."

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