“Yes, although it takes me a while, and-”
“But you can do it?” Dr Jihaab pressed her for an answer.
“Well, yes, I can.”
And so the question and answer session progressed, with Dr Jihaab seemingly logging everything she had to say on the computer. Yet, although Sue spoke frequently she felt like she hadn’t said anything, nothing of importance anyway. The questions he asked were all pretty closed and didn’t allow for any explanation. Plus, she’d been anxious not to sound like someone who didn’t help themself, or someone who didn’t want to go back to work. And when she emerged over an hour later, she couldn’t really have said how it had gone.
“But, surely he agreed that you need the financial help in the short term, at least?” her dad pressed her, when she told him of the interview, as he drove her home
“I don’t think they’re allowed to do that. In fact he gave absolutely nothing away,” Sue stated, staring out at the rain dashed windscreen.
“But, what about the medical itself; did he have any comment to make on that?”
“Not really, all I had to do was stick my hands in the air, turn round, crouch down and then lie down and stick my legs in the air.”
“Oh, did you manage?” her dad asked.
“I did alright. I have to say the whole thing was very strange, not at all what I was expecting,” Sue responded.
“So, what happens now?”
“Well, that form gets sent off and someone allocates a score to my answers, and if I get over fifteen I get ESA, and if I don’t…well, I’m not quite sure what happens if I don’t. But did you know,” Sue continued, “that the assessment for ESA is based purely upon today’s medical and the booklet I filled in, they don’t ask for any documents, or the opinion of your own GP, or any consultants you’ve seen.”
“That seems a bit daft.” Her dad frowned in thought, although his gaze never left the road. “Surely your GP knows your symptoms and treatment the best, plus you’ve already been declared unfit for work by Dr Murphy. How does that fit into it?”
“I don’t know dad, it seems a slightly ridiculous way of doing things really, when you think about it.”
“Yes,” he agreed, “it does.”
Sue rode the rest of the way in silence, her mind whirring, surely she’d done enough to persuade Dr Jihaab she needed financial support in the short term, just until she got back to work, but, what would happen if she hadn’t. The anxiety, that had been absent before the assessment, grew and twisted her stomach into knots.
*****
Sue found herself still distracted by thoughts of the assessment when she sat talking with Lottie later in the day. Not that she wanted to share her anxiety, financial or otherwise with her daughter. The fact that she hadn’t been able to provide any monetary support for her, which would in turn have reduced her student loan, was yet another layer of guilt to add to the pile she already carried around with her.
“Have you had your results back for the essay you were working on last week?” Sue asked.
“No, not yet, they’re going to be posted on-line tomorrow,” Lottie answered, stirring some pasta into the very tasty looking sauce she’d made.
It was one aspect of the gradual shift in mother/daughter relations that Sue was very grateful for; her daughter’s love of preparing meals. It felt like such a luxury to be presented with a lovely tea, without having made it. All she needed now was for Lottie to be stuck by an equal joy when it came to washing up. The fact remained that her daughter was very untidy, for the previous Christmas Sue had brought her a sign for her bedroom door which read, Daughter I love you more than all the stars in the sky and all the clothes on your floor. Yet, she did like cleanliness, and she fought a constant battle with her housemates to get a balance between, a slightly untidy kitchen and one in which various moulds were happily growing inside of unwashed pans.
“Do you never get any personal feedback on your work?” Sue asked.
“Some, but not really, I mean, they put comments on your work but you don’t actually sit and go through it with anyone. I don’t even know who my personal tutor is,” Lottie finished.
“See, I just find that so hard to get my head around. When I went to University you had termly meetings with your personal tutor, then you saw lecturers for feedback on your work, then you had small group discussions, and then larger lectures, but there would still be only about thirty students there at the most.”
“You can’t do that on our course, there are just too many of us. Some of the lectures have over two hundred students there.”
“Well,” Sue continued, “I think it’s wrong. They’re asking you to pay increasing fees for a course that you get, what is it? Ten hours of lectures a week, no individual time or small groups, and if you want to query something you leave a message on-line.”
“I know mam.” Lottie rolled her eyes. “You’ve said all this before.”
“Well, still,” Sue huffed, “worth saying again I think.” And then she grinned at the look on Lottie’s face. “What times tea ready? I’m starving.”
“It’ll be ready in a minute, go and sit down and I’ll bring it in for you.” The echoes of past dialogue, with the roles reversed, were not lost upon either of them.
After tea they sat and played cards, it was warm and cosy, the log burner in the lounge glowing with heat, as they sat; the chat flowed between the rhythms of the game. They talked about Lottie’s imminent dissertation, highlights of the TV she’d missed, and anything that drifted in and out of their conscious. Then it was after ten o’clock and a knock at the door signalled the arrival of Lottie’s boyfriend, Luke. He lived about a mile away from the village, and had popped home to see his family before retiring to Sue’s house for the night. He was studying at the same University as Lottie, although on a different course, something science related that Sue hadn’t yet understood. He was a nice, gentle lad who fitted well. Sue said her goodnights and headed off to bed, grateful to be finally lying down so she could ease her body into sleep. She would never not want to spend time with Lottie but now it came at a very painful price.
Chapter nineteen
Luke and Lottie had headed back early the following morning, dirty washing having been cleaned, and dried. Sue drew the line at ironing it as well, she didn’t do that to her own clothes any more as she had concluded it wasn’t worth the resulting pain, so she wasn’t rushing to do it to her daughters. It was a domestic reality that Lottie had not taken on board; if you don’t wash your dirty clothes, then eventually you run out of things to wear. Not that Sue was suggesting her daughter’s motives for popping home were anything other than a social occasion, but she was always accompanied by a fair old pile of dirty clothing, and the strangely proud announcement that she hadn’t washed a thing since she’d been home several weeks earlier.
Now that she was heading back and Sue had a day to fill, her thoughts turned to her writing. Sue found it easier to allocate patches of time to certain activities; otherwise the expanse of the day ahead could be pretty daunting; so instead of hours of emptiness to fill she took the day one hour at a time. Today she’d decided that, from morning till noon she’d write, the she’d fill the afternoon with reading and her abysmal attempts to learn Italian, early evening she’d go on-line and deal with any e-mails, and then she’d watch telly and go to bed. Suitably organised she read through the beginnings of her novel. So far so good, she hoped; the teacher – Heather, had been forced on the run with Jake (the rogue cop) because she’d witnessed a mob member on the island of Rochta (Sue hoped that sounded suitable exotic), paying off the local magistrate. At the moment her two protagonists were hiding out in a barn, after a tropical storm, still trying to resist the attraction they had for one another.
Jake could see Heather shaking with cold, her clothing clung to her skin as rainwater dripped from her hair. He reached out, touching her arms.
“Here, allow me,” he muttered, his voice husky with desire. He rubbed
them briskly, trying to restore some circulation, as his gaze drifted to her nipples, hard and perfectly visible through the thin fabric of her blouse.
Sue grinned, if nothing else ten years of celibacy had left her with an excellent imagination. She hadn’t told anyone about her writing attempts, not that she was embarrassed by what she was doing, well, not much anyway, but if it didn’t amount to anything then it was pointless spreading the news. Much like Heather was about to spread her legs, Sue decided, smiling at her own internal joke. She had been surprised by how much she enjoyed weaving a path for her characters to follow, it was such a complete fantasy that Sue supposed it was a wonderful break from her, often humdrum, existence. She could spend an hour dreaming of improbable liaisons in warmer climates, where men were men and the women were open to life’s opportunities, which, she thought, was what she was doing, trying a new experience on for size, and, who knows, maybe a new career. Viewed from that angle it seemed exciting, this search for a new place in life, an adventure almost, and that was infinitely preferable to looking into a future that stretched blankly ahead. Silence could be a very loud companion when you had been used to the chatter and energy of a class full of four and five year olds.
*****
Sue entered the hospital restaurant, and sought out her parents. She couldn’t stop the spread of a grin, as she headed in their direction. She felt optimistic and relieved, emotions she hadn’t been blessed with for quite a while.
“Well, you look happy enough,” her mother noted. “Mark, go and get her a coffee. You might as well have one because I’ve barely started mine.”
Her dad went to do as instructed.
“So, how did it go?”
“Well, I might as well wait until dad comes back, and then I can tell you both at the same time, but it went well, I think,” Sue replied.
“Good,” her mam said, “you already sound better than you do after most visits to the doctor.”
“Yes, quite,” Sue agreed.
It didn’t take long for her dad to arrive with the beverage. The hospital restaurant was comfortable, and modern, with a good selection of refreshments.
“Here we go,” her dad said.
“Thank you.” She took a sip before she started talking, mostly because she was thirsty but also to allow her to order her thoughts. Although the consultancy with the head of the Pain Management Unit had gone really well, she didn’t want to raise her parent’s hopes too much. In the end however, the excitement of having someone finally listen to her was too much. “Dr Lambert was great, I was in with him for at least half an hour and he asked about everything, he listened to what I had to say, and he examined my back. I told him all about how difficult I was finding it to walk, about the sensations in my legs and back and that feeling of an elastic band tightened around them so that at times I can often do little more than shuffle. He didn’t offer any diagnosis, but he did give me a prescription for some stronger pain relief. I have to go back in a few months’ time to see how I’m managing with them, but he did say that at that point he may want to repeat scans and tests that I’ve had before. I really think he might be the man to give me a diagnosis so I can get back to work.”
“Oh, that’s good news,” her mum almost sighed with relief as she spoke.
“Good, about time somebody started trying to get to the root of this, instead of fobbing you off with a shrug or a daft diagnosis,” her dad said.
In that split second Sue had seen her parents faces lighten with hope, and it cut her to the heart to realise just how much her problems had affected them.
“Yep,” Sue agreed, taking a large gulp of her drink until she’d composed herself once more.
“It’ll be almost two years since you had your last scans, and you’re a lot worse now. It makes sense to have a look and see what’s going on,” Rose stated.
“Sense to everyone but a doctor,” her dad grumbled.
“I know, I know,” Sue agreed. “But at least things are moving forward now. I could be back at work by the summer.”
Her mood of optimism was mirrored in her parents smiles, as they chatted about the possibilities the consultation raised.
*****
Sue’s good mood was still present that evening when she relayed the day’s news to Rachel and Kay.
“That’s great,” they both confirmed.
“It would be amazing if you could come back to work,” Kay said.
“It would, but that is a way off yet, I don’t want to get too carried away,” Sue replied.
“Yes, you need to keep it steady,” Rachel chipped in.
“Besides,” Sue said, after a mouth full of soup. “You don’t actually have any vacancies at school.”
“Your replacement is only on a temporary contract, so you never know…”
“Kay’s right, and I’m sure the governors would want you back.”
“Do you think so? I mean with having to leave on medical grounds.”
“It shouldn’t make any difference, if they’ve found out what the problem is and managed to sort it out,” Rachel said.
Sue pondered for a second before replying, “I suppose you’re right.”
They chatted about school for a while, complained about paperwork, wayward pupils and over bearing parents. They smiled with delight at news about their pupil’s progress, their antics, and the fulfilment they felt in their roles, and Sue’s heart ached to be back once more. She loved to hear Rachel and Kay’s news from school, but the emotion of her leaving was still quite raw. When the talk turned to one of their colleagues who was less than effective, that sadness turned to anger; it seemed so unfair to Sue that she could no longer teach, when her children were being let down by the ineptitude of others.
Perhaps sensing her mood, Kay moved the conversation along, just as the main courses arrived. They were in The Three Barrels, a country pub with an amazing menu. The whole place exuded warmth and comfort, from its beamed ceilings to its soft furnishings and roaring fires. The menu was limited because it was dictated by whatever was fresh and in season that day. The vegetables and herbs that were used were picked from their own large gardens and green houses, and the meat sourced from local producers. It was a little pricier than other pub/restaurants, but you really did get what you paid for.
“Anyway,” Rachel announced, nudging Kay. “You haven’t told Sue about your big news.”
“What news?” Sue asked, turning her attention to Kay, just as the colour rose in her cheeks.
She put her head down, eyes on her meal and murmured, “I have no idea what you’re talking about Rachel.”
“Yes you do,” the other replied. She turned her gaze to Sue, “She has a man.”
“What, really, we’ve been here for an hour and you never thought to mention it?”
“That’s because I haven’t got a man-”
“But she might have,” Rachel interrupted.
“Come on then, tell me all about it,” Sue encouraged.
Kay sighed and then gave in. “It’s someone I used to know at school, and I must admit, I quite liked him then but he had a girlfriend. We’ve bumped into each other on and off over the years, but one of us was always seeing someone. Anyway, I was out at Crash on Saturday night, and I saw him. It turns out we are both single at the moment, so he asked if I’d like to go out one day next week.”
“Yeay,” Sue squeaked. “What’s he like?”
“Lovely,” Rachel answered for her. “Show Sue the photo.”
Kay fumbled in her bag and handed her phone over. “There he is.” She pointed to a slightly out of focus, dark haired male, who did indeed look lovely.
“Oh, I hope it goes well. What day are you meeting…what’s his name?”
“Simon, and I’m not sure. He’s away with work this week, so he’s going to call me when he gets back.”
“Ah, well that’s great. All we have to do now is get Rachel fixed up.”
If Rachel had been mid-munch she would have probably
choked, going by the bizarre noise she made in response to that comment.
“I think we should go speed dating,” Sue announced. “I would love to try it, just to see what it’s like. Wouldn’t you?”
“No, I can’t imagine anything worse,” Rachel stated.
“Well, I think it would be fun, you should try it,” Kay added her voice to Sue’s.
“Listen to you, you sound like half of a couple already,” Rachel joked.
Sue smiled; she felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude to her friends. They had stuck with her, even when she’d been feeling downright sorry for herself, and had never once made her feel guilty that she no longer worked alongside them. That guilt was Sue’s alone, that nagging worry that people looked at her, and judged her to be scrounging off the state; that ‘they’ thought her to be capable of more than she was.
But tonight, well tonight she was filled with the belief that she’d soon be back at work. She’d told others she wasn’t building up her hopes, and she had tried not to, but she couldn’t help it; this was it, she was sure of it. It had only taken two long years, but now surely Dr Lambert would find out the source of her problem and fix it. Her back screamed at her for sitting too long, the pain coming up from her coccyx and her legs felt heavy and unresponsive but tonight she seemed to cope with it better because of the belief it would all soon be over.
Chapter twenty
Sue munched on her bran flakes as she watched the morning news, it had been very necessary to incorporate more fibre into her diet, due to the rather unpleasant side effects of her new medication. Still it was a small price to pay for a reduction in her pain, and Sue was convinced that was the case; although some days it did not feel like it. But, she reasoned, if you expected your body to behave in a certain way, then surely it was more likely to do so.
The weather forecast had just started when Sue glimpsed the postman heading her way, this was closely followed by the whumpf of her letterbox, and turning her head she noted the presence of a brown envelope on her mat. To be fair, they did land with an alarming regularity, Sue had even received four in one day, making her wonder why the DWP couldn’t be more co-ordinated and save itself some money. She could think of no reason for the correspondence other than the results of the medical assessment she’d had four weeks earlier. The difference between the initial amount of ESA and the full amount, once you were declared temporarily unfit for work, was over twenty pounds a week. As such it would make a real difference to Sue, she still had some of her termination money left, but it was going down at an alarming rate, despite her attempts to spend less and less. She’d gone through her direct debits, renegotiating some things, like insurance and utility bills, with a cheaper provider, and cancelling others altogether. She’d felt truly awful going into the bank to arrange the cancellation of some of her monthly direct debits, as the only ones she could trim back altogether were donations to the various charities she supported. Admittedly they had grown over the years, Sue couldn’t watch an appeal on the TV without picking up the phone, even so cancelling the money to the various different causes had felt petty and mean. She’d always believed that if you were in a position to help others then you had a moral responsibility to do so. Sue was hardly Bill Gates, but the total given had crept ever closer to the eighty pounds a month’s mark, and she could no longer sustain it. The woman in her local branch had been sympathetic about it when she’d gone in, but it had left her with yet another thing to feel guilty about.
An Ordinary Working Man Page 9
