Julia was taking the opportunity to have a quick cigarette break. She smiled from under her umbrella as Bernard’s daughter hurried towards her at the entrance of the care home, obviously keen to be out of the rain.
‘Nice weather we’re having.’ Julia eyed the bulbous grey skies overhead.
‘For ducks.’ Running her hand through her short hair, the woman smiled shyly back, then turned her attention to her phone.
It was nice that she’d popped in again, Julia thought. It was heartbreaking when folk were abandoned here and then only visited once in a blue moon when relatives’ consciences got the better of them. Some of the residents might have forgotten who their relatives were, but it didn’t stop them feeling lonely, wandering aimlessly around looking for their missing memories. Bernard certainly hadn’t been abandoned. He’d had his fair share of visitors in the short time he’d been here. The two sisters, whose names she got mixed up. The young man who’d said he was his son-in-law. He’d been two or three times, though he hadn’t stayed long. Julia couldn’t blame him. Bernard was openly rude to him. Why people bothered with him at all, she wasn’t sure. He was a cantankerous old bugger.
‘He’s in his room,’ she called after the woman. ‘He refused breakfast this morning on the basis that it wasn’t fit for pigswill.’
‘God, he’s a pain, isn’t he?’ the woman called back with a despairing shake of her head.
‘Oh, he’s definitely that,’ Julia assured her good-naturedly. ‘Not to worry. It keeps us entertained. You might want to grab him a cuppa and some bickies from the day room on your way up.’
‘Will do.’ The woman waved her phone over her shoulder and hurried on.
Twenty minutes later, Julia was on her way to the day room herself to serve the other residents tea when Bernard’s daughter came back down the stairs. ‘That was quick,’ she said. ‘Is he not in the mood for company?’
‘In a mood, yes. For company, definitely no.’ The woman sighed despairingly. ‘He prefers his DVD to me, apparently.
The Great Escape, Julia remembered. When he was in his room, Bernard was superglued to his TV. But then, many of the residents were. She suspected the images on screen kept their minds occupied, reminding them of happier times and places they could relate to. ‘I’m not sure whether it’s Steve McQueen he’s most fascinated by or the motorbike scene,’ she said. ‘He plays it over and over.’
His daughter looked sadly reflective at that. ‘The motorbike, I think,’ she said with a small smile. ‘He still has his old bike in the garage. He’s probably hankering after the days when he could impress the women with it.’
‘Ooh.’ Julia made knowing eyes at her. ‘A ladies’ man, hey?’
‘He liked to think so,’ the woman said, her smile now definitely on the melancholic side. ‘I’m not sure Mum was overly impressed, though.’
‘Oh dear.’ Recalling the conversation she’d had with Bernard about the woman he’d been going to marry, Julia felt immediately contrite. ‘I’d better not rib him about it then. Sorry if I’ve touched on a sore subject.’
‘You haven’t,’ the woman assured her, with an unconcerned shrug. ‘It’s ancient history now. I’d better get off.’ She smiled more easily and headed for the door.
‘See you soon.’ Julia called after her. ‘Pass on my best to your sister.’
‘Will do,’ the woman called back.
Such a sad little thing. Julia watched her walk to her car, feeling for her. It was at times like this, watching someone’s personality slip away, that relatives tended to reflect on the person they once were. Bernard Harvey had a history regarding his love life, it seemed. The sisters were similar in age, she guessed, but not that alike in looks. Could it be that they had different mothers? Somehow, Julia wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Bernard Harvey had been a womaniser. He must have been quite good-looking in his heyday.