'Put the smile on the other side of their face,' said Brendan.
Helen rang when the plane got to the airport at her mother's town. "Is everything all right?" Bridget.
'These interstate phone calls are costing a fortune. If you continue like this we'll end up in the poorhouse.'
'What about you taking five times your weekly salary, won't that put anybody in the poorhouse?' said Helen crossly.
'Oh that, I've changed my mind on that score.'
'What! You want more? Then I WILL end up in the poorhouse.'
'No more, just my regular weekly salary will do.'
'Don't keep me in suspense Bridget, are they all right?' begged Helen.
'Wish each one of them a happy Christmas, and then hang up, this place isn't made of money,' Bridget ordered.
They all gave her a greeting. "We decided not to be too complimentary in case she got wind of what"s going on,' said Brendan.
'That's the way to go,' said Bridget, and Brendan flashed her his first genuine smile since he arrived at Blue Waters.
They were still planning and structuring by nightfall. They had milk and biscuits. A great thumping was heard on the window.
'It's your boyfriend,' said Edel.
'Let him knock on the door like a normal person,' said Bridget.
Jack stood outside the door. "Why didn"t you answer?' he demanded
'I came down to take you up with me. Get your things together and say goodbye to this dump.'
'Did you now,” said Bridget.
The Die Hards shook their old heads.
'Well, are you coming?'
'Happy Christmas Jack,' said Bridget.
'Is that a yes or a no?' asked Jack.
'It's another way of saying goodbye,' said Bridget.
They sat in silence as his car roared off.
They still had time to post letters before Christmas. The phone calls got underway. Messages of good will to people estranged, cut off or neglected because of real or imagined slights. Invitations to come and visit before the New Year.
'The place needs brightening up,' suggested Harriet. "People might get the wrong impression."
They agreed to get a local community group to come in and hang some decorations, smarten up the garden and top up the pot plants.
On Christmas Day they were having a barbecue on the veranda when the phone rang. Harriet answered.
'Bridget's tipsy Helen and in no condition to talk. Brendan keeps topping up her glass with sherry. She's the best carer we've ever had, no complaints on that score. Is your mother on the mend now?'
Helen was speechless and had to steady herself on the hospital rail. Bridget was inebriated - Brendan topping up her glass with sherry. Harriet was cheerful. They asked about her mother in hospital. She must be dreaming.
'I think I'll get back very soon,' said Helen In a strangled voice.
'Not until your mother is ready to travel,' said Harriet brightly.
'Travel?' Helen squeaked
'You will be bringing her home,' asked Harriet. "That"s what the committee thought.
'The committee?'
'Yes we were trying to come up with a name but we decided to call ourselves The Die Hards,' Harriet said with a smile that had endeared her to many years ago, before she alienated everybody and lost all her friends.
Two States away, outside the ward where her mother was recovering but would always need permanent residential care Helen held the phone and didn't dare think of Christmas cheer.
'Helen, I think we have talked enough now,' said Bridget. "Blue Waters is on a tight budget and we"ll have to curtail our spending if we are to make a success of it.' Helen couldn't believe her ears, Bridget had said that.
'When she's sober, which is most of the time, she's a grand person,' said Harriet, in a tone that implied the only dissenting opinion had been Helen's.
'Give my love and thanks to the Die Hards,' said Helen.
Harriet was pleasantly surprised. "You remembered the name," she said approvingly.
'I think there's hope for this place yet.'
