Three fish. That’s all that were left in the tank, and two of them were guppies, so tiny that the elderly residents of Oakwood Care Home could barely see them. So much for being therapeutic. The Siamese fighting fish had looked beautiful when he bought it from the pet store. Who would have thought that such a handsome creature was capable of such destruction? It made him think of his own circumstances. Not for the first time, Mr Carter wondered if getting into bed with the Crosby family had been a good idea. Oakwood’s focus had always been on high quality care, and without the Crosbys’ substantial cash injection he would not have been able to progress to the next phase of development. Mr Carter knew all about the other homes that offered similar services, as advertised on their pamphlets. But their reality was far from the truth. Recently, one of his competitors had been exposed on Watchdog: shamed by hidden cameras as they highlighted the abhorrent treatment of pensioners who were left soiled, neglected, and were rough-handled on a daily basis. It was why he insisted everything had to be just right, and the response had been very encouraging. Funding the new wing was part of his dream, and having the capability to pay for decent staff who genuinely cared about their clients set them apart from other care homes in London that could barely afford to pay trustworthy, English-speaking, workers.
Of course, such things came at a price, and he had not been entirely comfortable with his new sleeping partner, but it was the lesser of two evils. The banks would have fleeced him, despite his early success.
Carter shook Nathan Crosby warmly by the hand as he rose to leave. His meeting had made him sick with nerves, although the figures he had prepared were looking good, and Nathan was already getting a return on his investment. But their encounters made him nervous. Carter had always been a God-fearing man and the closest he had come to breaking the law was eating a bar of shoplifted chocolate when he was fourteen. The handsome well-dressed man before him did not look like a criminal, but neither did the bankers who should be doing time in jail, as far as he was concerned. Given a choice, he would take the Crosby family any day of the week. Since getting involved with them, Oakwood Care Home had come on in leaps and bounds. He had been too scared to ask Nathan about his interest in their client, Joy Preston. It seemed odd, given that Joy’s daughter was a police sergeant with the Metropolitan police. It had been made quite clear to him that Nathan Crosby’s involvement was to be treated with the utmost discretion, and this was something Carter was more than happy to provide. ‘Discreet is my middle name,’ he had said, as they shook hands on their agreement. Curiously, also in the agreement it stated that Ruby Preston was to be charged just a fraction of the ongoing costs for her mother, and that her discovery of their arrangement would seriously jeopardise their future working relationship. Doing anything to upset the Crosby family was not on the agenda. It was not all that dissimilar to the hotel industry, of which Carter had been such a big part in his younger days. Relationships could be found in the strangest places. The meeting concluded, he opened the door of his office and saw Mr Crosby out.
Their most popular carer, Harmony, dealt with Joy, ensuring that she had something red upon her person at all times. A hair clip, a scarf, it didn’t matter, as long as Nathan’s wishes were upheld. Mr Carter could not really understand what all the fuss was about as it was inevitable that Joy would forget her old habits given her dementia. But it seemed to make Ms Preston happy to see these little touches, and it was only then, when he thought about it, that Mr Carter realised that Nathan was going out of his way not just to make Joy comfortable but to put her daughter at ease as well. It was something Mr Carter had mentioned to his wife previously, as he tried to make sense of it all. His wife had informed him that it was a romantic gesture, made all the more romantic by the fact the woman in question was unaware. All the same, she warned him, romance would not come into it should the general public be made aware of his benefactor, so it was best to leave it at that
‘How are you doing today?’ Nathan asked, pulling up a chair as he sat across from Joy Preston.
He hated care homes, although Oakwood was one of the better ones. It was flooded with light thanks to the floor-length windows which afforded views of the flourishing garden. Heat blasted from the radiators, and Nathan noticed that half the residents were asleep. Even Joy’s eyes were drooping, and he shifted in his chair, feeling guilty for wanting to leave the woman who had saved his mother on more than one occasion. It had never been openly spoken about, but Joy’s calming influence on his family’s turbulent life was something they were all grateful for. Such debts would never be forgotten.
Joy often mistook Nathan for his father. In the beginning his visits were short because he could not bear to have such a flaw pointed out. Even hearing his father’s name made his gut churn. But now he was older and had become accustomed to her ways. All the same, it was nice when she recognised him for who he really was, even if his place was always in the past.
‘Nathan… ’ Joy said, staring at him like she had lost something in his face.
He offered her a smile. ‘Yes, it’s me. How are you doing?’
‘Killing the minutes and watching them die,’ she said, faintly, before turning her gaze to the chaffinches darting on the hedgerow outside.
Nathan grew up wishing his mother was more like Joy. Frances’s harsh upbringing gave her a warped sense of what was normal, confusing jealousy and control as signs of love. But as a boy, Nathan knew from watching Ruby and her parents that this was not the case. It was also why he and Ruby had believed that giving their baby up for adoption was the right thing to do. Back then, they were just kids. Things had seemed so bleak, and even Lenny agreed it was for the best when he confided in him about their plans. Nathan could never have known how much things would change after his father died. Shedding the old regime to work with upmarket clientele gave him the feeling that his work was socially acceptable, and with a brain like a calculator he discovered a talent for making money that he did not know he had possessed. He would be happy with his lot if it were not for Ruby and their child; he regretted the chances they had missed to make each other happy. He wondered what his daughter was doing now, and if she was happy.
‘Lucy,’ he exhaled the words in a sigh, not realising he had spoken his thoughts aloud.
‘Lucy,’ Joy repeated. ‘She came to see me the other day. Such a nice young woman. I hope she comes again soon.’