A Secret Revealed The emptiness that followed this separation was understandably accentuated. We had enjoyed living and struggling together, and the bonds between us were thereby strengthened. But now we could only pass the waiting months away, with bright memories of our stay at the Centre, and a smile at the dilemmas we faced there. We recalled, for instance, the day I dropped some freshly-washed liver! Trying to retrieve the wobbly substance grew more and more tiring, until Jack had to go for help. There was also the time when the flexible tap hose was forcibly removed by a sudden surge in the water pressure. The entire kitchen floor was soaked, and my chair was skidding everywhere before I found something to knock off the tap, which I could not otherwise reach. Soon after the mopping up operation, Doctor Anne entered just in time to see a nice clean floor. "My word! Did you wash that floor yourself?" she exclaimed. "Well, in a way!" I said, afterwards admitting the truth. I can laugh now, just as she did then, but it was devastating at the time. I remembered the good times as well, like making my first curry, and hearing Jack's compliments. And I would boil an egg just firm enough to slice on to a round of bread, because I learned that Jack could not spoon it out of its shell. I delighted in making everything to his liking. Then there were the cosy evenings, when we would sit together by the radio. So many memories crowded our minds. Now our burning desire was for all of them to become reality. But it remained for us to keep a simple faith in Miss Barnes and her Department. Shortly afterwards, Miss Barnes arranged another meeting when we heard the reports from the Assessment Centre. She looked pleased and relaxed. "You've both had a successful time, according to this." Indeed, it was reassuring to have it in writing, but could the recommendations contained in the report be implemented? The next question was obvious, but it took time to put into words. At last I said: "will we be able to have a flat then?" Miss Barnes nodded. "Yes. But we can't say when an application can be made. And is there anywhere in Norwich you DON'T wish to live?" We would, or course, be satisfied to live anywhere – so long as it was together. And once a flat had been allocated, Miss Barnes promised to introduce us to two young architects who would be responsible for the alterations. The project was no longer a secret. Nothing was definite, and many questions remained unanswered. But we ventured to inform our parents and a few friends. Like us, they could scarcely believe the news. Our most exciting meeting took place only three months later – in December 1968. Expecting to meet the architects merely to discuss necessary conversions, we were surprised to see the building plans unrolled on the table. A block of four flats was destined to be built a short distance from the hostel, and a two-bedroomed one on the ground floor had been earmarked for us. Now the plans, outlining the proposed modifications, were spread before our disbelieving eyes. There was one big snag. Cautiously, Miss Barnes said, "But you realise that it could be a year or more before the flat is ready." It seemed ages away. She further explained that we could choose a conversion in an existing building, but that this would certainly not be so convenient for our use. The choice was ours. We decided to wait, and everyone breathed an almost audible sigh of relief. Several factors swayed the decision; we would be near the city centre, have the hospital across the road, a nearby theatre, and parks. We would also be on the fringe of a Sheltered Housing Scheme. In fact, our new home would be ideally situated. Afterwards, Jack and I discussed it all at great length. We knew the proposed building site very well. But even if building commenced immediately, which was most unlikely, a year was an awful long time to wait. How we used that time would be all-important. One thing was certain – we had a better chance to save some money, so that we could confidently plan our bottom drawer. To ease the long wait, Miss Barnes now arranged for a colleague, Roland, to take me to see Jack every Wednesday, thus giving us two whole days together each week. We settled down to collecting things fro our home, and Jack was allowed to store them in two large tea-chests at the hostel. Our best means of shopping was still by mail- order, and we soon had a wide assortment of household items to our credit. The project was becoming was becoming exciting in many ways, but we also got depressed sometimes – it was inevitable. At home, whenever the subject arose, I felt awful to see Mum's uneasiness at the prospect of me leaving. We had naturally become very close, and I understood all her ups and downs, so it was going to be quite a wrench for her when I left home. She would miss our heart-to-heart, and the familiar sight of me sitting in bed surrounded by activities. In his turn, Dad would find it strange not to include me in his daily routines. And as for Gerard – he got very upset if I simply went on holiday. So in preparing Gerard for the eventual break, I would try and make it interesting by showing him the building plans. He could also forget his sadness as he helped to wash my hair, or as he sat astride me in helping Dad to lace up my surgical support. I always answered his questions about my disability, and he soon became oblivious of my physical differences. Though slightly younger, Eileen and Joey were also curious, but Gerard would soon put them right. It often amused me to hear him tell them knowledgeably "It's because she's got weak muscles, that's why." Then they would all go on chatting away merrily about everything under the sun! Without doubt, I was going to miss them all very much.