006. You're sitting on my sofa

It wasn’t an accident that Mavis’s dressing gown perfectly matched the sofa in the living hall. It was camouflage.

When she’d seen it in the window of the discount store up the road, she had yanked it off the mannequin with the enthusiasm of a much younger woman. It was an invisibility cloak – a way to hide – and the ticket to all of Green Meadow’s Aged Care’s secrets.

Every morning she snuck into the living hall, wrapped herself in the gown and disappeared into the sofa. Then, for as long as her bladder allowed, she listened. She heard residents whispering goodbyes and sneaking kisses as they tiptoed back to their own rooms before breakfast. Nurses bitching about difficult patients, or each other. A shady plan of Mr Young’s son to seize power of attorney. Dozens of stories and secrets to pass the time, and share with the girls over cards that evening.

But on Tuesday when she eased herself into the sofa, she found it hard and un-sofa-like. She sprang back.

“Arthur? I didn’t see you there,” she whispered.

“That’s the idea,” he replied, sinking further back into the sofa.

He looked ridiculous in floral brocade, a beaming grin the only flaw in his disguise. That she had found one matching dressing gown was a miracle – where on Earth had he found another?

“It’s my chair,” she barked. “Mine. I had it first.” But Arthur simply pulled the gown tighter around him, closed his eyes and vanished.

As Mavis stormed out of the hall, a tartan armchair in the corner hissed at her.

“Pssst. Mavis. There’s still the daybed over by the window. Do you own any velvet?”