Chapter
Thirty-nine
Grace
sat for a long time beside the empty fireplace before she pulled
herself to her feet and made her way upstairs to bed, passing the
closed door of Evelyn’s old room as she went. She paused for a
moment by the door, sighed and went on into her own neat room. She
clambered into the old high bed, pulling the crisp white cotton
sheets up to her neck as she rested her head on the pillow.
Thoughts
raced through her mind, pushing away the more recent conversation
with young Karen to the background, whilst Grace’s own worries
fought for her attention.
She
reached to the bedside table - took up the old photograph she kept in
the silver frame and held it to her breast for a moment. A tear slid
from her cheek and dripped onto the cold metal. Using the back of
her hand to wipe her face, Grace looked at the picture and smiled at
Evelyn’s innocent eyes staring back at her.
‘I’m
so sorry,’ she whispered as she ran her finger over the unfeeling
glass in the frame. After a moment she placed the picture carefully
back in its place, turned off the light, and lay down to sleep with a
new determination in her heart.
Evelyn
was worried. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen
Karen. The more she tried to work out how many days ago it was, the
more muddled she became.
‘Doctors
come on Monday,’ she thought. No doctor had been since she went
to Fareham. ‘It wasn’t market day. That’s Monday, too.’
She wondered what day it was today. The smell of fish wafting from
the ward kitchen told her it was Friday. So she hadn’t seen Karen
for at least four days. She stood in the doorway of her room and
tried to gather the courage to walk to the office.
The
heat of the morning sunlight poured through the long windows opposite
her room as she stepped into the wide gallery and tentatively made
her way towards the open office door.
‘Evelyn?’
Mike was sitting at his desk. He looked up at her inquiringly.
She
couldn’t find the words.
‘Come
in.’ Mike patted the chair at the side of his desk. ‘Come and
have a chat.’
She
pushed down the fear and stepped into the office.
‘What
can I do for you?’ Mike asked as she sat on the edge of the chair.
‘Karen.’
It was blurted out before she could lose her nerve.
‘She’s
not here today.’ Mike smiled at her. ‘Did you want to talk to
her?’
Evelyn
nodded.
‘Can
you talk to me instead?’ he asked.
‘Where
is she?’ Evelyn asked.
‘She’s
just taking a few days off. She’ll be back on the ward before you
know it.’ He paused. ‘Do you miss her?’
Evelyn
nodded again.
‘She’s
a good nurse,’ Mike said.
Evelyn
smiled.
‘I’m
glad you came to the office, Evelyn,’ Mike went on. ‘I was going
to ask you something.’
‘What?’
Evelyn jumped.
‘It’s
alright. It’s good news.’ He paused, smiling at her. ‘You
saw your mother the other day, didn’t you?’ he asked.
‘Yes.
With Karen.’
‘How
did it go?’ he asked.
‘Alright.’
Evelyn examined her nails. ‘She’s old.’
‘It’s
been a long time since you saw her, I suppose,’ he said. ‘You
were ill for a long time.’
‘Am
I ill now?’ she wondered.
‘You’re
better now. You’re just not used to the world outside. You’ve
been cooped up in here for too long.’
‘Chickens.’
Evelyn interrupted him.
‘What?’
‘Chickens
live in coops,’ Evelyn went on. ‘We had chickens once. The fox
got them all.’
‘Oh,
yes. Chickens - cooped up. I see.’ He chuckled. ‘Anyway, we’d
like to get you used to going out a bit at a time, like when you went
to Fareham the other day with Karen. And maybe seeing your family.
Your Mum?’
‘I
didn’t like it in Fareham.’ Evelyn could feel herself shaking
inside. ‘Marion scared me.’
‘Well
when you’re ready, maybe you could try it again,’ he said. ‘But
with nurses you feel happier with.’
‘Karen.’
‘Maybe,’
Mike agreed. ‘Who else do you trust here?’
‘Not
Marion.’
‘No,
not Marion,’ he said.
‘Not
Marion,’ Evelyn repeated.
‘What
about your Mum visiting?’
‘I
told her she could.’ Evelyn stood up and turned towards the door.
‘When’s she coming?’
‘She
wants to come this Sunday,’ he said. But if you don’t want to
see her yet, I can drop a note in her door on my way home tonight.
What do you think?’
Evelyn
nodded.
‘Good.
This Sunday then, at two.’
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