Page 60 of The Flowers of Bay C
Jodie nibbles at her nails, staring at the wall as if it might open and reveal a Grand Plan for us, but it is as blank as my mind, as pale as Jodie’s saddened eyes.
After breakfast, we brood in silence. Even Violet is quiet this morning, having huffed and puffed at the inconvenience of having a new neighbour without even being consulted about it. You moaned about your last neighbour, Sister Joy said, and Violet said that at least she knew where she was with her, and where was she anyway, and why didn’t she even say goodbye? No one is in the mood for our usual morning chatter, where we set the world to rights over watery porridge and cold floppy toast.
Jodie gets out of bed and teeters over to Barbara’s bed in a hospital gown tied loosely at the back, showing most of her rear to the world. Thankfully she does have some baggy greyed knickers on, all too evident now as she bends over the end of Barbara’s bed. They look like they once had a unicorn pattern. What is she doing, I wonder disinterestedly, what is she up to now? I dig my phone out and scroll through Facebook. It’s about time I replied to some of these messages, people who really seem to care, who want to know if I’m okay, when I’m coming home, how I am feeling.
I look up as Jodie climbs back on her bed, a tiny smile frisking around her lips. I narrow my eyes at her. ‘What’s so amusing?’
She shakes her head and puts her finger on her lips.
‘What were you doing?’
‘Nothing.’
I shrug, turning back to my phone. There’s a message here from Karen:
So sorry hun that I haven’t got to come and see you. It’s been crazy this end, you know what it’s like, with the girls and everything, I’ve not had a min. But I’ll come and see you when you get out, I promise. Love you sis. Xxx
A couple of doctors are arriving with their teams, smaller teams today, only a skeleton staff on a weekend day for the sickest patients, walking briskly into the bay, a group of them immediately breaking off and shutting themselves in with the new patient. Alice, I hear them calling her, and think about my friend Jen whose daughter is named Alice. How Jake and her were fast friends as toddlers and small children, but grew apart as the years morphed them into awkwardness around each other and Alice wanted to hang out with the cooler kids.
Jodie is grinning full on now, glancing over at Barbara and then at the staff congregating in the middle of the bay, consulting together.
‘What’s with you?’ I say.
Kat has her eye on her, too. ‘Did you do something?’
Jodie raises her eyebrows. ‘What d’you mean?’
One of the doctors makes her way towards Barbara, greeting her and plucking her chart from the end of her bed.
‘Did you do something to her chart?’ I say, following Jodie’s line of sight.
Jodie giggles. ‘Maybe.’
‘Jodie!’ Kat and I both say together, appalled.
Jodie is unabashed.
‘You could get into big trouble for that!’ Kat says. ‘And so could the staff. You have to tell them. Now, look!’
Jodie sits in smug silence.
‘Jodie!’ I say again. ‘Just tell the doctor now. You can’t do that!’
But Jodie sits there like a queen in state, chin high in the air, her face all wreathed in self-satisfaction. She brings her hands together in a prayer pose and says ‘Yes, Sensei,’ in a ridiculous growly voice. ‘I’ll tell ’em later, boss. I promise. When we’re back.’
I glance at Kat, whose face is all rumpled up. Probably thinking, like me, that she should say something if Jodie won’t.
None of the doctors are here to see me, or Kat, or Violet, or Jodie today. Only the new lady and Barbara, I assume to quickly sign her off. But the doctor with Barbara is speaking to a nurse in low concerned tones, snatches of her words floating over to us as we strain forward to hear. We can’t hear enough, though, not with the machine screeching through the bay. It’s only when the doctor moves away we see Barbara, sitting up in bed looking strangely peaceful, tiny frail hands gathered together in her lap. Jodie’s over there quickly, bending down to her level. ‘All well with you?’ she says, an edge of anticipation to her voice. I sit on the end of my bed, leaning forward to hear more clearly.
‘Well, I was, you know, darling? Thought I was for it today, into that home, they said. Said it’d be nice in there, all quiet and such, back with my things. But I know why they’re sending me back there, I’m not stupid.’
‘So are you not going?’ Jodie says. ‘To the home, today, I mean?’
Barbara shakes her head. ‘Said I was a bit high, my temperature, earlier. That nurse was on about those night staff forgetting to mention it in handover, said who could she trust to do their job round here? Said it’s fine now, but they want to just keep an eye for another few hours. Was funny, doctor said it’d been steady for days and then this sudden rise early this morning. Might be going later, they said, but not ’til tonight, or tomorrow. Probably Monday, though, love, you know how it is on weekend time.’
Jodie grins round at me and Kat, a big grin loaded with triumph and I-told-you-so. Kat heaves a great big sigh, and it reminds me of the sighs I would give when Jake was little and got away with something he shouldn’t have done in the first place. Slightly irritated yet a little bit amused, a little bit okay with what he had done. Perhaps that’s what it is with Jodie; she doesn’t do rules, she doesn’t follow orders, unless it’s Kane giving them. She does what she thinks she needs to do to help someone out. And she gets away with it, because she is Jodie.
‘I didn’t want to go anyway,’ Barbara says, smiling up at Jodie. ‘Prefer you lot in here to those near-dead lot in there.’
