Page 10 of The Winter We Met
We smiled at each other and crossed the road, me feeling excited in a way I hadn’t for a while.
6
‘You managed to find the camera shop okay, then,’ I said as we reached the other side of the road.
‘I asked for directions at the station.’
‘Real human contact?’ I grinned. ‘I’m impressed. Most people use Google Maps.’
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flip phone. Tiny. Basic.
‘I can only phone or text. I’m not a fan of social media. I leave Junior Magic’s staff – that’s the name of our company – to deal with our online platforms.
I gasped. ‘Haven’t seen one of those for years.’
‘It’s on loan from a museum,’ he said, eyes dancing.
‘Well, they do say size isn’t everything,’ I said, loving the banter. ‘How on earth do you manage without the weather app?’
‘Rain or shine, it doesn’t bother me. I like both.’
‘The calculator?’
‘I’m good at maths.’
‘And obviously you prefer real cameras instead of phone apps.’
‘That way I get to put photos in albums. My nephew has got heaps of shots on his phone. Over a thousand. Yet he never looks at them.’
I tilted my head. He was only in his thirties yet his ethos was similar to Gran’s. We rang the buzzer and Lynn let us in. She straightened her glasses as I introduced her to Nik. He shook her hand whilst I signed us in.
‘I haven’t had time to talk to you Jess, not properly, since that email was sent out,’ she said. Her dark eyes looked sunk into her normally sunny round face. As well as working all hours she had a little one at home. ‘It was nothing to do with me. If I’d had my way I would have told each of the residents face-to-face, separately and with relatives present, and—’
I rested my hand on her arm. ‘No one blames you, Lynn and I know it’s not easy for you, either, losing your job.’
Her eyes glistened. ‘Yes. Like family, they are, your gran and the others. Some nights I’ve not slept for worrying over their future. But in some ways… it’s a relief. We’ve had real trouble, over the last few months, recruiting quality staff. It has meant standards have slipped further. Those of us who love it here can only do so much. Without investment in Willow Court’s facilities and team over the last couple of years this place just hasn’t been hitting the mark, especially in the nursing wing.’ She sighed. ‘And not just there – Betty got served fish fingers with beef gravy a few weeks ago, in the canteen. She didn’t mind but that’s not the point. Then I had to get rid of a new member of the team who would leave Phyllis in her room for too long and she missed her lunch several days in a row. Our mantra is that dignity and respect should be at the heart of everything. Anything less simply isn’t good enough.
‘And I’ll miss Alice, that’s for sure.’ She pulled her ponytail tighter. ‘The closure is out of my hands so all I can do is focus on making the next few weeks feel as normal as possible for everyone whilst they plan for the next stage of their lives. Stress won’t do any of the residents any good. And it’s about giving them as big a say as possible about their future. The ones with dementia problems…’ She bit her lip. ‘This whole process could be especially distressing for them, if it’s not handled properly. That bloody email wasn’t a great start.’ She gave a wry smile. ‘Sorry for my French but I’m still fuming about it.’
‘That’s one thing I’ve treasured about this place,’ I said. ‘You’ve always worked so hard, Lynn, to consider people’s feelings.’
‘It has a lovely atmosphere,’ said Nik, looking around.
‘Some of my colleagues, like me, have worked here for nigh on twenty years. In many ways it’s become like a home from home. We’ve talked about what’s happened and reckon the problems started when we moved from being just residential to the extension being built. The owners were ambitious – too ambitious, perhaps – and the council just didn’t come through with the extra funding that was needed to support their new nursing ideas so the company cut corners.’ She sucked in her cheeks. ‘You just can’t do that when it comes to the people with more complex health needs.’
‘It sounds like you’ve been soldiering on for a while,’ said Nik.
‘It must have been tough – the solution being out of your hands,’ I added.
Colour flooded into her pasty cheeks. ‘Thanks for being so understanding. Not everyone’s relatives and friends are. Today I’m emailing out links to the directories for local homes for residents and their relatives to trawl through.’ She rubbed her forehead. Another member of staff called her name and she left us.
I smiled hello to familiar faces in the lounge, to the left. The dining room was to the right. In the middle were a reception desk and the office, plus a small huddle of residents. Betty stood, as usual, wearing her raincoat and carrying her handbag, with fluffy slippers on her swollen feet.
‘It’s not fair,’ she said and glared at us. ‘They’re letting you strangers in but won’t let me out. I’ve got things to do – my Jim will be waiting for his dinner, after a hard day in the video store. And the kids need bathing and bed.’
Nik studied her for a moment. ‘Count yourself lucky,’ he said conspiratorially, ‘it’s cold and damp out there.’
Betty’s face softened for a second, and she stared up at him. Then she reached into her bag. It was empty apart from a doll. She took it out and tucked it under her arm. The staff had given it to her to see if it helped. Betty hadn’t been without it since. With a blank expression she wandered into the dining room, telling no one in particular that strangers had been let in again and turning back once to glance at Nik. He and I walked along the corridor, to the left, past artificial plants and colourful paintings. We reached Gran’s room. I knocked gently and we went in. The carpet could have done with a vacuum and a shelf on the wall looked dusty. Things hadn’t been quite as spick and span as normal, throughout Willow Court, this last year. Gran was asleep in her chair, by the window. Nik and I laid our coats on the bed. I squeezed her arm. She twitched and woke up.
