Throwback Thursday: ‘Stella Ryman and the Man with the Gun’ by Mel Anastasiou

Mrs Stella Ryman leaned back in her chair under the skylight in Corridor Park. Her eyes were closed but she was not napping. On the contrary, she was engaged in sniffing at the air to detect any odour of fish sticks. An unlikely occupation for a cloudy morning, perhaps, but she was sniffing in order to calculate the day of the week. It was not Friday, because Friday fish sticks lunches cast an unmistakable atmosphere in Fairmount’s corridors, and that particular aura was absent from the morning air.

It occurred to her that fishiness was not all that was absent. Where was Thelma Hu? She opened one eye and looked to the chair on her right. It was empty.  She opened the other and looked to the left, where the Greek Chorus sat, gossiping and stitching away at the fancywork they brought with them each day. Stella imagined Thelma, thin and light as a sparrow, tapping blindly through the corridors. What if she was lost, the way Stella so often was lost? Stella determined to find her, for even if she herself didn’t know the way back, at least Thelma would not be lost alone. She was rising to begin her search when the woman in question tapped her way around the corner into Corridor Park and slumped into the chair at Stella’s side.

“Where have you been?” Stella asked. “I was worried.”

“About me? Huh. I’m never lost. I was listening at doors,” Thelma said. “Somebody new is coming to Fairmount.”

The Greek Chorus looked up from their embroidery.

“Gossip never comes to anything,” Iolanthe pronounced.

“We should know,” Lucille said. “We hear so much of it.” Sally the Nodder inclined her head thoughtfully.

Just then Reliza hurried past, rolling a laminate bedside table in front of her. Unusually, she didn’t pause to say a warm hello. Cheryl, lacking her usual Giaconda smile, followed with a visitor’s chair in her arms.

“You see?” Thelma pursed her lips. “They’re all nervy as cats. I think we’ve got a bad one.”

“What does that mean, a bad one?” Stella asked.

“Cranky,” Thelma said.

“Incontinent,” Lucille added.

“Uncooperative.” Iolanthe lifted her eyebrows meaningfully at Stella.

The Nodder nodded.

Theo Longbourne rounded the corner into Corridor Park. Everybody except Thelma sat up a little straighter, Sally and Stella straightest of all, until Stella, realizing that each was mirroring the other, sank back in her chair.

Despite his limp and recent health setback, Theo was back to his morning ramble through Fairmount, and the tall gentleman with pale blue eyes and the best hair of any male resident at Fairmount could be counted upon to swing by Corridor Park for at least one visit in the mornings. Today, although the care home’s heaters were turned up much warmer than Stella liked, Theo was buttoned into his yellow cashmere cardigan. With it he was wearing the lemon yellow shirt he sported whenever his niece came to visit.

Iolanthe said, “Theo, did you hear that we have a new resident coming? There’s a real buzz about him.”

Stella joked, “Maybe he’s a movie star.”