‘Dr Deerbon? Hello, it’s Sister Odone, from G Ward at Bevham General. Now don’t worry …’
They always said it. She remembered saying it herself.
‘Is he worse?’
‘Indeed he is not, he’s doing very nicely, we’re very pleased with him.’
Yes, Cat thought, and I can imagine his expression if you told him, ‘We’re very pleased with you, Dr Serrailler, you’re our star patient.’
He would respond with a grunt and a frown, and when she saw him next, tell her he was sick of being patronised by nurses and doctors young enough to be his grandchildren.
‘Are you coming in to see him today?’
‘I am, probably early this evening.’
‘Can you make it before four?’
‘I can try – why?’
‘Because the good news is, you can take him back home with you.’
Richard looked grey and the sides of his face seemed to have caved in. His eyes were sunken into his skull and Cat noticed for the first time that he had a slight tremor. In a week her father had aged ten years.
‘I’m not sure he’s ready to leave hospital,’ she said to the registrar, trying to sound as if she were asking him not telling him.
‘I wouldn’t feel justified in letting him take up a bed any longer.’
‘He isn’t “taking up a bed” though, is he? He is ill and using one because of that.’
The registrar shrugged.
‘I know full well what bed blocking is.’
‘The point is, Doc, he’s in a privileged position.’
‘How do you make that out?’
‘Well, obviously, he’s staying with you so he has not only a daughter to look after him but a GP to boot. How many old people can claim that?’
Cat wanted to slap him. She also knew better than to start an argument.
‘I’ll put his things together.’
‘He has meds to wait for.’
‘What meds?’
He listed them.
‘Right, I can prescribe all of those for him, which will be a lot more efficient than waiting for a couple of hours for an overstretched pharmacy. One less patient for them to get round to.’
‘This hospital’s pharmacy is excellent and if you have a complaint – ’
‘I don’t. They are always, always overstretched. Can you get me a copy of his notes please, Dr Girling?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t, it’s strictly against patient confidentiality, as you ought to know.’
‘All right, will you give my father a copy of his notes please? He is a doctor too, as I’m sure you know.’
His bleeper sounded. Cat thought they were both relieved.
‘You’ll have to ask the nurses. I’m wanted elsewhere.’
It was after seven o’clock by the time Richard had been discharged, waited in a wheelchair in the entrance until Cat had found her car, pulling an overstay penalty sticker from the windscreen. Richard was unsteady and it was difficult to make him comfortable. Twice she had to stop and help him when he had a paroxysm of coughing.
She had never been so glad to see the farmhouse lights on and smoke coming from the woodburner. Kieron was not in, but when she called, Sam came and helped his grandfather indoors, Felix carried both his bag and hers, and between them, they made him comfortable in bed. He complained about the car, the seat belt, the roads, the bumps in the drive, the stairs, and only stopped when the coughing took over again.
She did not reply to his grumbles, because she was used to them and could take them in her stride, but she minded that he was curt to the boys, and by the time she got back into the kitchen, she was not far from tears, of frustration and tiredness rather than any misery.
‘Mum … come with me.’ Sam held out his hand to her. They went across to the sitting room, and Sam moved the armchair closer to the fire.
‘Sit down and don’t move. I’m coming back.’
Felix reappeared, looking worried, gave her a quick hug and vanished again.
‘Here. You need this.’
Sam had a Coke for himself in one hand, and a large gin and tonic in the other. He had sliced the lemon and hooked it over the side. There was ice.
‘Sammy, you are the best thing. Probably the best ever.’
He smirked, and hid behind the Coke bottle. Cat took a long drink and closed her eyes. For now, she could not feel more content.
A shout from upstairs. Sam jumped up. Another shout. But Sam waved at her to sit down again.
What to do? What to do, what to do, what to do? Richard would recover, unless something unlikely happened. He was a fit man, physically young for his age, and although he had been seriously ill, he had not been at death’s door. She was unworried about him except in so far as she had no idea what she could do about his longer term future, even assuming that he would let her have a say about it anyway. The old house would be vacant again in a couple of months and he would want to return to it. Maybe he would want to go back to France and stay there. Selfishly, Cat thought it would be the best thing for her and the rest of the family, even for him – for a time. But then would come the inevitable problems, the emergency trips out there, the issues about selling the house …
She had been involved in plenty of discussions with relatives about what should be done with an elderly patient, been witness to the emotional blackmail, the distress on one side or the other, while she had tried to be both helpful and impartial. It had never been straightforward, never been easy. Now it was her turn. If Judith had stayed, things would not have been so difficult, but she was not wishing any of this on her. Judith had had more than enough to bear. They were in touch, mainly by email, and with cards and presents for the children at Christmas and on birthdays, and there was nothing but affection between them. Richard was never mentioned. He had not been mentioned since Judith had left him.
The room was quiet, the fire burning low. She had finished her drink. From upstairs she could just hear Felix singing in the bath. She closed her eyes again and turned her mind to the new job. She was in the final stages of signing the contract with Luke. She was going back to practising patient-focused medicine. But she could still hear Chris’s disapproving voice. She would be treating the rich, she would be betraying the NHS which had trained her, she would be neglecting those who needed her most but could not afford to pay, all of this and more. She woke in the night sometimes and his voice was there, nagging her, reminding, goading, causing her to have anxious doubts. It was the one thing he had been unmoving and unshakeable about.
She came to as she heard Sam calling her and Kieron’s car pulling into the drive.
Richard was propped up on three pillows, he had a jug of water and a glass beside him, a book, his spectacles and a box of tissues to hand and a disgruntled expression. Sam had given her a look and shot past her out of the bedroom as she came in.
‘Dad? How are you feeling? It looks as if Sam has thought of everything.’
‘Do I need to take anything?’
‘Yes, the antibiotics in half an hour. I’m going to listen to your chest.’
‘Thank you.’ It was the first time he had allowed her to behave like his doctor without either complaining or criticising.
‘You still sound pretty creaky. And there’s a bit of a wheeze. Did they give you salbutamol?’
‘I’m not asthmatic.’
‘Not exactly but your chest is tight and it will ease that. As you know, of all people. Do you feel like eating? I’m doing omelettes and vegetables and there’s a baked apple.’
‘I couldn’t eat.’
‘Did you eat anything in the hospital?’
He screwed up his nose.
‘I know. Anyway, this will be quite different and I’ll only give you a few morsels. Would you like some ice in the water?’
‘If you please. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to him.’
She let the remark go.
Kieron turned round as she went into the kitchen.
‘Hi, darling – sorry, I was upstairs.’
‘Sam said.’
‘I wasn’t expecting to have him back but there you go. Supper in half an hour. Are you in now?’
‘Yes, thank God. Longest most pointless meeting of the police complaints committee on record, at the end of which both complaints were dropped. Waste of bloody time. I’ll have a quick shower and change.’
He sounded tired and edgy, but meetings, of which he had too many, never brought out the best in the Chief Constable.
‘Hold on a second, love … will you take this up to Dad?’
Kieron hesitated. Frowned. Then he took the jug of ice without a word.
Something else, then, Cat thought. Something bloody else.