Page 85 of The Little Flower Shop By the Sea
‘Oh yes, I completely understand. It’s just I used to know Stan a long time ago, when he lived down in St Felix. Do you know Trecarlan Castle at all?’ I ask hopefully.
The woman looks blankly at me.
‘A woman called Lou comes to visit him quite a lot?’
She carries on looking stonily back at me from her desk.
‘Do you have a Stan here that likes to eat pasties?’ I try as a last resort.
The woman’s face lights up. ‘Oh, you mean Stanley,’ she says, smiling now. ‘Of course, Stanley can never get enough pasties, even though his teeth don’t really like them these days. Who should I say is calling for him?’
‘Poppy,’ I tell her quickly before she changes her mind. ‘But he might not remember me. Like I said, I haven’t seen him since I was fifteen.’
She rings a bell, and another, younger woman, this time in a green uniform, appears.
‘Melanie, can you please tell Stanley that Poppy is here to see him.’
Melanie nods. ‘Certainly.’ And she disappears back where she came from.
‘She won’t be a moment, please take a seat.’ The receptionist gestures to a brocade chaise longue behind me.
I sit down awkwardly on the seat, and look around while the receptionist returns to her computer screen.
This is all very efficient, and not at all what I was expecting. After what Babs had told me about Stan losing all his money, I’d wondered if I might find him living in some ramshackle old folks’ home, with paint peeling off the walls and incompetent staff.
Camberley House, from what I’ve seen so far, seems very well run, although I knew from reading and hearing stories about residential homes that what you saw on the surface wasn’t always the real story.
‘Stanley will see you,’ Melanie says, reappearing. ‘Please come this way.’
I follow Melanie through a long corridor full of closed doors, and I can’t help wondering what’s behind them.
‘Just offices,’ she says, guessing what I’m thinking. ‘Nothing sinister, I can assure you.’
‘Sorry,’ I apologise. ‘You hear so many awful stories about places like this.’
‘Yes, I know. It’s despicable what goes on in some care homes. The trouble is, we all get tarred with the same brush when those stories come out, when the truth is there are so many homes out there giving wonderful care to the elderly and infirm. You just don’t hear about the good ones.’ She pauses at a glass door and pushes it open. ‘Here we are: our day room.’
I follow Melanie into the room, and instead of a room full of elderly folk sitting around in high-backed chairs with blankets over their legs, I am surprised to find a hub of activity.
There are a number of white- and grey-haired octogenarians playing pool and table tennis, a group of residents playing Scrabble, and a couple of folk on computers at the side of the room surfing the Internet.
‘Now,’ she says looking around, ‘where’s Stanley got to? He was by the pool table a few minutes ago. Ah, I spy him, he’s over by the window, waiting for you.’
We walk through the sea of movement to two armchairs by a window, and then I see him.
‘Poppy, my girl!’ Stan struggles to stand up from the chair, so Melanie helps him. ‘I can’t believe it’s you after all this time.’ He hugs me and I feel the fragility of his body against mine.
‘Stan, it’s good to see you,’ I say as I stand back to get a better look at him.
The Stan I remember was tall and broad with a loud voice and bellowing laugh. This Stan seems to have shrunk in stature; I’m taller than he is, and his voice these days is croaky and weak.
‘I’ll leave you two to it,’ Melanie says. ‘Just call me when you’ve had enough of this one’s tall tales.’
‘Melly, my girl,’ Stan says, easing himself down into the chair, ‘you know every word that leaves my lips is the truth.’
‘Aye, and I’m Kate Middleton,’ she says, smiling. ‘I’ll just go and polish my crown.’
Stan smiles after her as she weaves her way back through the room, speaking to the residents as she goes. ‘She’s a good lass is that one. Sit down, child, and let’s catch up.’
