Red Letter Day Coffee Break Tale

She had a good feeling about today… what wonderful thing was going to happen?

Ellie looked at the board beside the large kitchen hatch. Thursday. It said Thursday, May25, 2018. 2018. Goodness. Could it really be so late on? Ellie was sure the Millennium thing was only a couple of months ago.

But, Thursday. Something happened on Thursday, she was sure. She looked at the cereals lined up at the side of the hatch. It was confusing, trying to choose, but she was sure she liked something yellow. Yet there were two plastic containers with yellow pictures on: one with something like straw and the other more chocolatey.

The chocolatey one seemed more appealing so she tipped some of the contents into a bowl. The milk was in pint-sized jugs to make pouring easier and she was grateful, remembering the mess people made with the big ones. By the end of breakfast, the hatch would be swimming in small pools of milk.

I can remember that, Ellie thought, so why can’ t I remember Thurs days?

She added a naughty spoonful of sugar and took her slightly wobbly bowl to the table where Harriet was already making a mess with her Weetabix. Ellie felt pleased and surprised at herself when the word Weetabix popped into her head.

But, Thursdays. She could ask Harriet, of course, but she didn’t want to appear stupid. And, anyway, Harriet appeared almost as blank as the paper Ellie used to feed into her typewriter at Jacob and Sons.

She’d loved those days, taking dictation from old Mr Jacob and flirting with both of the sons. Larry Jacob was the best-looking and she’d even been asked out on a date with him. They’d courted for a few weeks but were overruled by old Mr Jacob who’d thought Ellie too common for his family.

Still, it’d been fun while it lasted, and anyway, if she’d married Larry Jacob, she wouldn’t have been able to marry John Mitchell and they wouldn’t have had Nancy and Thingy. So things always worked out in the end.

Are you going to eat that by osmosis, Ellie? You’ve been staring at your Coco Pops for the past five minutes.”

Ellie looked up and smiled at the laughter in Jill’s voice. She picked up her spoon and started eating, thinking of Thursdays and wondering whether or not to ask Jill.

Jill would know because she worked there, but Ellie didn’t want to appear stupid. She ought to know what happened on Thursdays, because she had a funny feeling that it had been happening every week.

Of course, if she waited long enough whatever it was would actually happen. But what if it was in the evening? She’d be waiting and wondering all day long.

Whatever it was, she had a sense that it was something good. That seemed to settle her and she polished off her breakfast, washing it down with a nice cup of tea. Jill had got her some and left Ellie to put in the sugar. They did that, the people who worked here. They liked to ensure the residents remained “as independent as possible”.

That’s what they always said but Ellie and some of the others thought it might be because they were lazy and couldn’t be bothered to do things themselves.

The next thing Ellie knew, the table was empty and she was being gently ushered towards the day room.

Thursday, she was thinking, with every faltering step along the corridor. As she drew closer to the day room, there was the sound of a triangle and a drum, a wayward recorder and what might be one of those shaky things.

Inside the room, little children sat with their mothers, singing along to a song about buses. She remembered the words, oddly enough, and sang along without even having to think. It was such a relief, not having to think and things just seeming to happen.

Children were smiling and laughing and Ellie sat down, remembering when Nancy and Tommy were that small. She used to sing with them too.

A strange thing was happening to Ellie as she sang along with the children. Everything was so easy and her heart felt wonderfully light inside her chest. She remembered now, exactly what Thursdays were. Thursdays were happiness. Thursdays were being someone she used to be.

Ellie felt the touch of a child’s velvet-soft hand as he handed her something to shake. His bright blue eyes were like sapphires. Ellie thanked him, touching his cheek gently.

Thursdays were happiness. Ellie sat down, watching the smiles, her own voice lifting to heaven as she sang.