One Hundred Names (Special Edition)

inspiration. You’ve seen the one hundred names, you’ve seen the people, now I propose that you read their stories in Constance’s final piece: one story dedicated to each name on her list, each month, in a feature titled
One Hundred Names
. And when that list runs out we randomly select one hundred more.’
    Kitty was finished talking and she held her breath for a reaction. There was complete silence. She looked at the others standing alongside her, not knowing what to say. Mary-Rose’s eyes widened, Eva’s cheeks pinked, Birdie reached out to a chair to steady herself.
    Suddenly Bob stood up, and started clapping, slowly at first, then it built, and Kitty saw the tears in his eyes and gradually the others began to join in, applauding, Rebecca with excitement and the others with appreciation and even admiration. Kitty looked at Pete and he was smiling, a small smile that was gradually building. He looked along the line of people she had brought into the room and then his eyes rested on Kitty. He smiled at her, nodded at her reassuringly so that she knew she’d done it, she knew she’d pulled it off. Then he joined in, clapping along with the others.
    Kitty had never in her whole life felt prouder. She put an arm around Mary-Rose, who was beside her, and instinctively they all grouped together in a circle, the little team that they had become, the friends she had made and who she knew she would remain in contact with, and they hugged collectively as they listened to the applause.
    The St Margaret’s Nursing Home bus pulled up to the famous meeting spot dubbed ‘under the clock at Clerys’ where they had all met at the start of their journey. Not yet ready to say goodbye, they remained in their seats in a hushed silence. Each took a moment to gather his or her thoughts, to revel in the experience they had just had, most likely the last that they would share together. Archie was the first to stand. He looked around at the others, the quiet still enveloping them all. He nodded to them, and made his way to the front of the bus. Then they all followed.
    Despite their promising to meet again – some had swapped phone numbers, some had even already made dates – Kitty knew that realistically it would be a hard task to bring them all together again, to get every single person back in the same room, or on the same bus. But as she watched them from her window seat all go their separate ways, she knew in her heart of hearts that she would do everything in her power to try. She had ninety-four more people to meet and ninety-four more friends to make, but she knew that this bunch would always be extra special to her, for they had helped change her life, had, in a way, saved her. She would reunite them again. One day.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
    ‘This better be good, Archie. I have an article to write, remember?’ Kitty said, as she met him outside the Brick Alley Café on Sunday morning. He had called her late the previous night after they’d all eventually got home and had a day to think about all that they’d seen, done and achieved. Steve had finally left Kitty’s flat to give her time to settle down to write her article, when Archie had called her and requested they meet urgently. She had no idea what to expect but she was ready for anything now.
    ‘It’s good, trust me,’ he said, smiling.
    ‘Where’s Regina?’
    ‘It’s Sunday morning, where do you think?’
    ‘Ah, church,’ she guessed. ‘And you don’t want to be there?’
    He shook his head.
    ‘Changed your mind about helping people?’
    ‘Not really,’ he replied. ‘I’ve decided to help some people. Which is why I called you here.’
    ‘Me? I don’t pray,’ she laughed nervously.
    ‘I’m not too sure about that, Kitty,’ he said softly. ‘There was one thing coming through loud and clear to me.’
    Kitty swallowed, completely uncertain as to where this was going.
    ‘There’s someone in there who wants to talk to you,’ Archie said, turning to face the café.
    ‘Who?’ Her heart drummed maniacally in her chest.
    ‘Take a look.’
    She looked through the glass and there, sitting on the stool facing the wall with the blackboard saying ‘Every table has a story to tell’, was a man whose back was turned. Instinctively, as if he knew they were looking at him, he looked around and Kitty gasped.
    Colin Maguire.
    ‘Archie,’ she whispered, suddenly terrified. ‘What have you done?’
    ‘All you want is for him to forgive you, am I