✉︎ To Rich
Is the offer to be my tour guide still open? I’m not working this week so I’m free any day that suits but no worries if you have too much on. Thanks
✉︎ From Rich
I have a day off on Thursday and no plans so consider me your guide for the day. I’m also free for lunch today before my shift starts if that’s any good x
I drove across to Hedgehog Hollow to feed Misty-Blue – a quick in and out again – then across to the village of Umplesthorpe to meet Rich in his local, The Black Swan.
Rich must have arrived moments before me as he was at the bar ordering a drink. He turned round and gave me a huge smile. ‘Perfect timing. What can I get you?’
‘An orange juice, please.’
He placed the order.
‘Do you live close by?’ I asked.
‘Three minutes’ walk in that direction.’ He pointed to his right.
‘Very handy.’
He grinned. ‘A bit too handy sometimes.’
We took our drinks over to a table by the window.
‘Lucky you having a week off,’ he said.
‘It’s actually three weeks off. I finished as a district nurse last Thursday and will start at the TEC next month. Because I’ve never taught before, I wanted some time to get my head round the syllabus, read the course text and be as prepared as possible.’
‘Good idea. So what promoted the career change?’
Over paninis I briefly explained the situation at home. Rich told me more about his job and we chatted about Dave, his partner of five years. We also talked about Mr Mickleby and Rich admitted that he’d keep persisting if he was in my position.
All too soon, it was time for Rich to leave for his shift but I was excited about the friendship I could see forming. He was so easy to talk to and it was refreshing to start building a friendship with a man after years of working in a female-dominated environment.
‘Looking forward to Thursday already,’ he said as we left the pub. ‘And good luck with Mr Mickleby. Hope he’s a bit more forgiving today.’
‘Oh gosh, so do I.’ I opened my car door. ‘Time to go and find out. I’ll see you later.’
Thomas Mickleby was sitting up in bed when I arrived fifteen minutes into visiting time, his head turned towards the window at the end of the ward.
‘Hello again,’ I said, approaching his bed.
He turned from the window, clear surprise on his face. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you.’
‘You’ve seen me.’ He paused then added in a more hostile tone, ‘Now you can go.’
‘Are you expecting any other visitors today?’
‘Yes. Her Majesty the Queen said she’d call in.’
I smiled. So Mr Mickleby had a sense of humour. That was a good sign. I ignored his sarcasm and sat down. ‘I fed Misty-Blue this morning. She sends her love and hopes you’re home soon.’
‘I told you not to feed her.’
‘And I decided to overrule you. My dad’s a vet and I’m a nurse so caring for animals and people is part of my DNA.’ I nodded towards his over-bed table where the bunch of grapes had been massively depleted. ‘Did you enjoy the grapes?’
‘They were okay, I suppose,’ he muttered.
I leaned over, picked one off the bunch and popped it in my mouth. ‘Mmm. Delicious.’ I gave him a cheeky grin. ‘So how are you feeling?’
‘Are you asking me that because you have to or because you actually give a damn?’
‘The latter. I’m not your nurse so I don’t have to show any interest in you, but I am a human being and I want to.’
Silence. He stared at the ceiling and I sneakily popped another grape into my mouth.
‘I’m old, I’m creaky, my eyesight’s fading, my balance is iffy, I’ve had a mild stroke and I have gout. How do you think I’m feeling?’ He sounded weary and that was hardly surprising.
He turned and fixed his gaze on mine, as though challenging me to turn his ailments into positives; something I’d never do. Old age could be cruel, especially when the body started to give up but the mind was so active, as his clearly was given the steadily flow of sharp comments.
‘Could be worse. You could have an annoying do-gooder plying you with grapes and feeding your cat.’ I smiled and winked at him.
I swear his lips twitched but he didn’t say anything.
‘Your farm’s in a stunning setting,’ I continued. ‘Have you always lived there?’
‘No.’
I waited a few moments but he didn’t expand. ‘My grandparents had a bungalow with some land and trees. I used to stay there a lot when I was a little girl and I loved it. It was so tranquil. I always thought of it as my happy place. I get that same feeling at your farm.’
‘It’s too bloody quiet,’ he grumbled.
‘Could you not sell up and move somewhere a little less remote?’
‘I can’t leave my Gwendoline.’
I frowned. ‘I thought you said she’d died.’
‘She was taken from me twenty long years ago. I scattered her ashes there. She loved that place.’
‘What happened to her?’
He removed his glasses and placed them on the bedside cabinet. ‘I’m tired. You need to leave.’
I stood up. ‘Okay. You get some rest and I’ll be back tomorrow.’
‘Don’t bother.’
I’d only taken a few paces when he called out. ‘Nurse Wishaw?’
‘Yes?’ I returned to his bed.
‘If you do come back, maybe you could bring some more of those grapes with you. Not that you’re welcome back. I don’t want to see you but if you’re going to insist on this pointless charade, it might as well be worth my while.’
I smiled. ‘Grapes it is. Anything else?’
‘I like blackcurrant juice.’
‘Grapes and blackcurrant juice? Consider it done.’
‘And if you’re going to break into my house again, you might as well bring me my pyjamas, slippers and dressing gown. Can’t bear these damn hospital gowns. And my toothbrush and paste. I don’t like the flavour of the one they’ve given me. Doesn’t mean I want to see you. I’d just like my own things.’
‘I understand. You get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Second door on the right,’ he called. ‘No snooping elsewhere.’
‘I promise.’
I smiled as I walked off the ward and down the corridor. Had I just taken a baby step with Mr Mickleby? I hoped so.
Back home, there was no chance of making any steps forward, baby-sized or otherwise. As soon as I opened the door late that afternoon, I could hear the roar of the vacuum cleaner from the lounge and steeled myself. Mum vacuuming was a sign of her being in a foul mood – fouler than normal – and it was bound to be my fault.
The lounge door flung open. ‘I don’t know how you dare show your face around here.’ Spittle flew from her mouth as she spoke and her eyes bore into me, conveying her displeasure. ‘They nearly didn’t make it onto the plane because of you. I hope you’re proud of yourself.’
With a final withering look, she slammed the door, and the roar of the vacuum echoed round the house one more.
I sat down on the stairs with my head in my hands. This thing with Chloe would blow over eventually. It had to. Not that it would make much difference to my relationship with Mum because she’d find something else to have a go at me for and, every so often, she’d throw this one back at me, making me feel like I was a horrible, vindictive person with an agenda to ruin everyone’s lives. Occasionally, when I was feeling low and her words cut a little too deep, I wondered if I was that person. You hear the bad things enough times, you start to wonder if they’re true.