The Story of You. Katy Regan

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      I felt this little bubble of pride.

      Then, the most bizarre thing happened. Brian reached behind him, brought out something and held it out to Grace. ‘My camera!’ she gasped, turning it around in her hand, as though it was her engagement ring that had been found. ‘I thought it was gone forever!’

      ‘We had to pretend it was lost,’ Brian said to me, like it was a dummy and she was two years old. ‘She was just driving everyone mad.’

      ‘Got time for a chat, Grace?’ I said, as we were all getting up to leave. ‘Just the two of us?’

      She looked at me, a little suspiciously, before breaking into a gap-toothed smile. ‘All right,’ she shrugged. I followed her out of the door.

      We went to Grace’s room to collect her cigarettes.

      ‘We’ll have to freeze our bums off outside,’ she said, rummaging around in her coat pocket. ‘No more smoke rooms. As if they could make these places any more bloody depressing.’

      We had to walk around a zigzag of corridors, before we got to the lift that took us to the main entrance outside. The walls were filled with pictures of dodgy, replicated beach landscapes, in an attempt to brighten the place up. Grace gave me the lowdown as we were walking.

      ‘Room Five. That’s Harry. Hasn’t said a word in two months. Spends all day watching DVDs about polar bears … All right, Harry?’ She popped her head around the door. I could just see a large, white-haired man, sitting in a chair, staring straight ahead. ‘Those polar bears behavin’ themselves?’

      I waved at Harry but he didn’t wave back.

      ‘Room Seven, Winnie – conked up to the eyeballs, bless her. Tried to hang herself on a curtain last week.’