Page 56 of The Winter We Met
‘Maisie must have loved getting cards from you,’ I said.
‘She called me a silly soft sod when I incorporated symbols of hearts into the words.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d do anything to hear her say that just once more.’
‘My father won my mother’s hand by the way he wrote her name,’ said Nik. ‘It’s Joanna but he always writes it Johanna – says she deserves to stand out as a little different. He sent her stacks of love letters before she agreed to go out with him.’
‘Used to drive my Maisie mad when people misspelt her name with ayon the end. Not even I would have got away with that,’ said Alf.
Lynn walked to the front, by the hatch. ‘Everyone, just to let you know I’ll be sending out an email to you and your relatives tonight. I’ve gone through the directory of care homes Social Services gave us, for this area. I agreed with you all – to save time more information was needed about each one before clicking on the links. So I’ve personally gone on all the websites, picked out the most relevant bits of information and put them by each care home’s name of the list. Therefore you only need to click on the one that suits your needs. So, effectively…’ She leant against the hatch. ‘I’ve highlighted those with ensuite rooms. Those that have waiting lists or immediate vacancies. Also, I had a long chat with the mobile hairdresser… I haven’t passed on any negative comments but if she’s spoken positively about a particular home she goes into, I’ve put a star by that one’s name.’ She looked around. ‘I hope this makes things easier for you all selecting your preferred choices and for considering the place Social Services offers you and… for those self-funded, for helping you decide where to move.’
‘Lynn! You must be exhausted,’ I said.
‘You’re a star,’ piped up Nancy.
I took my phone out of my jeans back pocket and clicked on emails. I scanned the new list and went over to Gran.
‘There isn’t a star by Darkthorn House – but that doesn’t necessarily mean Julie had anything negative to say. She probably just doesn’t work in there.’
‘Have you arranged the visit?’
‘Yes. Late Monday morning. It’s never a really busy day. Seb’s kindly swapped the hours it will take, with me. We’ll be able to fit in lunch. I haven’t been to Upperhyde for ages but seem to remember there’s a rather nice tea room… now what was it called… Up The Spout.’
‘Whatever you want,’ she said, in a listless voice. ‘Thanks for arranging it.’
I was just about to ask where Pan was, when she appeared in the corridor wearing her coat. Her face looked drawn and her hair bedraggled. Lynn went over to speak to her and one of her sons, Adam. Pan held her head in her hands.
26
Adam kissed his mum on the cheek before leaving. Oliver strode over there with a small glass of eggnog. Pan hesitated before taking it. She came over and sat down next to Buddy.
‘Do you want to take your coat off?’ I asked.
Pan looked down at herself. ‘Oh. No… no it’s okay. I… I must be going out in a minute.’
Gran reached over and squeezed her arm. ‘You’ve just got back, with Adam. You were visiting a care home, over in Bridgeway.’
‘Oh. Yes, of course…’ She sipped and met Gran’s gaze. ‘We don’t really have to move, do we? Nowhere is going to be as nice as Willow Court.’ A tear trickled down her face, leaving a trail in her blusher. ‘If I don’t agree to live with my sons they feel I should move into a care home that specialises in dementia.’ She shook her head. ‘It was awful. We went into a room with people in wheelchairs, saying nothing. You should have seen their blank faces, despite carers sitting down with them and talking or singing. The warden and Adam tried to persuade me to finish the tour – she said she had lots else to show me – but ten minutes inside and I couldn’t leave quick enough. I just got a bad feeling about it.’ Her voice broke. ‘What do I do? I’ve always promised myself I won’t ruin his and Stephen’s lives.’
Nik stood nearby. He bent down to Pan’s level and took her free hand. ‘Perhaps they don’t see it like that.’
‘I’d be like another child eventually – someone else to worry about if they want to go out or on holiday…’
‘You’ve got two sons – I’m sure they would pull together. And how much do you think they’d be worrying if you moved into a new home and they felt you were unhappy?’ he said. ‘Wanting you to live with them – that’s a serious business and I imagine they wouldn’t have offered unless they’d thoroughly thought it through.’
Pan sipped her drink again.
‘How about you come and look at the photos Glenda has collected?’ he said, softly.
She got up. Nik put an arm around her shoulder and guided her over to the table. Oliver and Alf stood together again, by the hatch. Oliver looked as if he’d drunk vinegar instead of sweet eggnog. Alf looked deep in thought like he did when he was reading about a new conspiracy theory and jotted in his notebook again. A sense of injustice swept through me.
Eventually Pan moved to the front of the room, looking at the newspaper. She folded it and turned it around to face her friends.
‘This photo…’ Her voice broke and everyone hushed. ‘It’s like it’s the only physical souvenir we’ve got of our time here. It’s meant so much getting to know you… but all of a sudden us… this…’ She waved her hand across the room. ‘It’s gone – or it will be in a matter of weeks.’
‘At least we’ve got memories,’ said Fred. His face flushed. ‘I mean…’
Pan’s eyes welled up. ‘At the moment. That won’t be the case for me at some point – and perhaps not everyone else. Our friendship… the super community we’ve built… where’s the legacy? It should count for something, shouldn’t it? The way you’ve all rallied around me since my diagnosis. How we’ve helped each other deal with bereavement – like the text we sent to a loved one that never got read or the words we wish we’d said or could have kept unsaid. We all understand how challenging those things are to live with.’
Alf nodded.
