The Kate Fletcher Series

by Heleyne Hammersley

  ‘I have. He knocked a bit off because I was paying the whole lot. I can give it you back if you want.’

  ‘It’s your money now,’ Caroline said. ‘Pay off a credit card or buy something nice for your son.’

  Maddie smiled her appreciation. ‘So, you all set for getting your dad home?’

  ‘I think so. Just need his drugs and any final instructions.’

  ‘Drugs? There’s not really much that he needs at the moment. Just standard painkillers.’

  Caroline sighed dramatically. ‘I know. But it doesn’t seem like much. A couple of aspirin or whatever. He told me that he’s had trouble sleeping and you gave him something. But what if the pain gets worse?’

  ‘Just call an ambulance,’ Maddie said.

  ‘And end up back here every time? Can’t you just give me a prescription for some sedatives, whatever he had before? And morphine in case he needs it?’

  Maddie took a step back, staring at Caroline as though she’d never seen her before. ‘You want me to prescribe extra medication?’

  Caroline shrugged.

  ‘You said yourself it could be a long while before… well… you know. I just want to be prepared. I don’t want to keep coming back here for every little thing. You said a GP will be seeing him. If you give me enough to keep Dad going for a couple of weeks then I’ll ask the doctor if I’ve used anything that needs replacing. I thought you’d want to help me.’

  She wasn’t sure if she’d got the intonation right but the hard set of Maddie’s face assured her that her message was getting through.

  ‘That’s why you loaned me the money? So I’d give your father more medication than he needs?’

  ‘Than he needs at the moment,’ Caroline corrected. ‘It’s not like I’m going to be dosing him up with all sorts as soon as I get him home. I just don’t want him to have to suffer. If he has another episode like the last, I want to be able to give him something for the pain rather than leaving him in agony for hours while we wait for a GP to get out of bed.’

  Maddie tapped the screen of her tablet. ‘Your father’s already had a mild sedative. In fact he’s asked for it two or three nights since he’s been here. I suppose that would be okay. I can give you a prescription for a small bottle of Oramorph. Just in case. But that’s all. Anything else you need, you’ll have to ask the GP.’

  ‘Of course,’ Caroline said. ‘I’m not trying to get you into trouble. I’m just being selfish. I want to be able to cope rather than having to ring for assistance anytime anything goes wrong.’

  ‘You should ring for help if you need it,’ Maddie said, her face softening as she obviously decided to believe Caroline. ‘A quick phone call and somebody will be there in less than half an hour. Even if it’s an ambulance.’

  ‘I know. I wasn’t trying to call in your debt. I’m sorry if I came across that way. I’m just scared shitless and want to be able to cope.’

  Maddie led her out of the room to the nurses’ station where she printed out a prescription. ‘Just for emergencies,’ she said, handing it over.

  Caroline smiled gratefully and went back to where Dennis was waiting in his chair.

  ‘Right then. Let’s go,’ she said, folding the prescription and stuffing it into her jeans’ pocket. She picked up Dennis’s suitcase. ‘Shall I lead the way? It’s not far and I’ve parked the car close to the entrance.’

  Dennis grunted a response and stood up reluctantly. As they negotiated the corridors, Caroline tried not to turn around too often until they reached the main entrance. She waited until he caught up with her and then led him through the glass doors and across the car park.

  They drove back to Dennis’s house in silence.

  Chapter 15

  Caroline poured a large slug of Fever-Tree tonic into her third gin of the evening. Dropping in a handful of ice cubes, she waited for the bubbles to subside before taking a sip. She looked around the kitchen. Everything was tidy. The plates and pans were draining and the floor tiles were freshly mopped. This room had become her sanctuary. There was no TV and she rarely used her laptop as Dennis didn’t have Wi-Fi and the signal on her mobile phone wasn’t great. Instead she sipped gin and brooded.

  Two weeks. Two weeks of cooking, cleaning and trying to make conversation. It had been much harder than she’d imagined – not the physical work but the mental effort and the emotional strain. She’d nearly waded her way through a bottle of gin and was trying not to attack Dennis’s stash of whisky. It was expensive stuff and she didn’t want to get into an argument with him.

  They’d managed to be civil; Dennis had complained for the first two days but then he’d appeared to simply resign himself to his new situation and had allowed Caroline to prepare his meals and clean his house. He’d even managed to walk to the local pub and have a few pints. He wasn’t supposed to be drinking, the consultant had told him that alcohol could kill him but, when Caroline reminded him of this, he just said, ‘I’m dying anyway so I might as well enjoy myself.’

  He hadn’t touched his whisky, though, so maybe it was mostly bluster.

  The real problem was Bren. She kept turning up and turning up her nose. Nothing Caroline did was good enough. Her cooking left a bad smell, her dusting wasn’t thorough, and her vacuuming was infrequent. If this was going to work out how Caroline wanted, then Bren had to go.

  Sighing to herself, Caroline took another mouthful of her drink and checked her watch. Nearly ten o’clock. Dennis’s programme would be about to finish and she knew that he wouldn’t want to watch the late news. Ten was just about bedtime. If she could get him out of the way she could start to make plans for the coming weeks.

  They’d established their relationship; it hadn’t been named or even spoken about but Dennis was starting to accept her role as carer and she’d done nothing to make him suspicious, nothing to give him grounds to question anything that she’d done but she could sense his resentment in every word and gesture. He wanted to be left alone to get on with dying but she couldn’t allow it. He had to be made aware of everything that he’d done; of her suffering and that of her mother and sister.

  He probably thought that she might go to the police. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t complaining or asking too many questions. It was much too late for that, though. If she’d been going to talk to the police she’d have done it much earlier; surely he must have realised that by now. When they spoke to each other, the words were tight with tension and suspicion on both sides. Caroline saw him for exactly what he was, and she could tell that he was aware of how little he knew about her; he had no idea what she might be capable of doing to him or to his reputation on the estate. All he had were his memories and assumptions about her and she was going to prove him wrong. Very wrong. She wasn’t a child anymore and she wasn’t frightened of him.

  ‘I’m going up now!’ he shouted from the sitting room door. She wasn’t sure what response he expected, whether he wanted her to tell him to sleep tight or that she’d see him in the morning. Instead she chose silence. It wasn’t easy. Her natural instinct was to be polite; to at least acknowledge that he’d spoken. But this was Dennis. Polite was pointless.

  As soon as she heard the toilet flush and his bedroom door creak closed, she slipped the sedatives from her pocket. Diazepam. She’d looked up the drug online. Two strips slid out of the packet, each containing ten tablets. Not many. Not enough, but it would have to do for now. She placed two on the counter top, took a teaspoon from the drawer below and, using all her weight, she crushed the tablet beneath the spoon and ground it down as hard as she could. The cracking sound was too loud in the stillness of the kitchen, and she found herself coughing to cover the noise. When she’d ground the tablet to powder she did the same with the other one.

  Satisfied that she’d left no lumps, she used the side of her hand to coax the powder from the counter top into a cup. She gave it a sniff. Nothing. Dipping a tentative finger into the cup, she removed a tiny amount and placed it on her tongue. Was there a sl
ight bitterness? She wasn’t sure but she was prepared to take a chance.

  She opened the pantry door and took a bottle of milk from the fridge. The milkman didn’t normally arrive until after Dennis had had his morning cup of tea and, even if the delivery was early, frugality would force her father to finish off this bottle before starting a new one. Pouring a small amount of milk into the cup, she used the teaspoon to stir it into the powdered drugs until it formed a thin paste. She then poured the paste back into the milk and gave it a good shake up ready for Dennis’s morning cuppa and cornflakes.

  ‘Do you want me to ring the doctor?’ Bren asked again, the anxiety clear in the quaver in her voice.

  Dennis was slumped at the kitchen table, still unshaven and in his pyjamas. He’d keeled over soon after breakfast, his head lolling forwards over the empty bowl, and was complaining of feeling woozy and tired.

  He shook his head. ‘I’ll be fine. Just a bit tired. I think I might go back to bed.’

  Caroline hovered. She knew that her father wouldn’t agree to the doctor being called but, even so, she’d held her breath while she waited for his answer to Bren’s question. He didn’t feel steady enough on his legs to leave the table so now, half an hour later, Caroline knew that she was going to have to help him back up to bed.

  Gritting her teeth, she managed to hook a hand under one armpit, half pulling, half guiding, as he took a few wobbly steps.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll manage the stairs. I’ll just have a lie down on the sofa. Be right as rain in a couple of hours. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I’m probably just over tired,’ he mumbled, some of the words slurring together.

  Bren tutted in protest but followed them along the hallway and into the sitting room. ‘Shall I get you your quilt?’ she offered.

  ‘No. Stop fretting,’ Dennis snapped. ‘Just leave me alone for a bit. I’ll be fine.’ He dropped onto the sofa and stretched his legs out.

  Caroline fussed with the cushions, trying to look like she was making him comfortable, but Bren stepped in.

  ‘He’ll wake up with a crick in his neck if you leave him like that. Here.’ She leaned in to make adjustments but Dennis’s expression stopped her.

  He was scowling, unable to hide the fury and frustration in his eyes. ‘I said leave me alone. Both of you. Get out!’

  Bren reared back as if he’d struck her, her face a mess of confusion and hurt. ‘I was–’

  ‘Just go,’ he hissed.

  Caroline smiled at Bren and pointed to the door. ‘You heard him.’

  Shaking her head, Bren left the room muttering to herself.

  ‘And you,’ Dennis said to his daughter. ‘Just bugger off.’

  ‘Happy to,’ Caroline said. Leaving him sprawled out and looking uncomfortable, she followed Bren into the kitchen.

  ‘I really think you should call the doctor,’ Bren said. She cleared Dennis’s bowl and mug from the kitchen table, dumped them in the washing-up bowl and gave both a thorough scrub. Caroline picked up the empty milk bottle but Bren snatched it away from her. ‘That’ll need a wash before it goes back.’

  A short dunk in the suds and a quick run under the hot tap and the evidence of Caroline’s tampering had been erased without her having to lift a finger.

  ‘You heard what he said,’ Caroline said. ‘And you know what he’s like. If he says he doesn’t want the doctor then I think we should respect that.’

  ‘What if he passes out or goes into a coma?’ Bren asked. ‘What will you do then? Just wait?’

  Caroline was so tempted to say yes – that she’d just put the television on and watch Loose Women while she waited for him to die. It was a valid question, though. What would she do?

  ‘I’d ring for an ambulance. It’s not like he’d be able to stop me.’

  Bren grunted and started drying the mugs and bowls, putting everything back in the right place as though it was her house and not Caroline’s. She moved around the kitchen, obviously familiar with every detail, from the cold tap that needed an extra twist to tighten it to the fridge door which needed a hard tug to open. Every movement suggested that she belonged there and that Caroline didn’t.

  ‘I think you should go now,’ Caroline said. ‘He said he doesn’t want you here and you should respect that.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ Bren huffed, folding her arms across her ample chest. ‘He said the same to you. Are you going to go as well?’

  ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d like me to leave you to it. But what happens when he has another funny turn? Are you going to pick him up? Are you going to give him bed baths and change his shitty pyjamas when the time comes? Because it will. This is only the start and if you think any different then you’re just kidding yourself. Dennis needs me more than he needs you, so I’m staying.’

  To underline her determination, Caroline plonked herself down at the kitchen table and stared Bren down.

  ‘There’s no need to be like that,’ the older woman said. ‘I’m sure we can both help Dennis in different ways.’

  Caroline shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. And I’d like his key back. While I’m staying here, I want to keep an eye on who’s coming and going, and I don’t want you just walking in as if you own the place.’

  Bren’s expression darkened and she thrust her hands into the pockets of her cardigan as though she wanted to cling tightly to the key and stop Caroline from taking it. ‘You can’t take it off me. Dennis gave it to me. I’ll give it back when he asks.’

  Caroline smiled. ‘I’ve seen a solicitor, Bren. I’m in charge of Dennis’s decisions if he isn’t able to make them for himself.’ It was a lie but clearly Bren was shocked. ‘I need to be able to look after the house when he can’t.’

  ‘And his money, no doubt,’ Bren spat. ‘Do you think I don’t know what this is about? That’s the only reason you’re back – out for what you can get. You’re a greedy cow, with your flashy car and expensive clothes. You wait till I tell him what’s been going on. You’ll never see a penny of his if he knows how you’ve treated me.’

  ‘Key,’ Caroline said, holding out her hand. ‘Otherwise I’ll take out a court order and have you banned from the house. I’m sure my lawyer could draw up a petition tomorrow.’

  She had no idea if such a thing were possible but nor did Bren and she was of a generation who were intimidated by legal jargon. She studied Caroline’s face as if she were searching for weakness or a sign that this was a joke. She obviously saw no sign of either as she removed the key from her pocket and handed it to Caroline.

  ‘Don’t think I won’t tell him about this when he’s feeling better,’ she warned. ‘You won’t get away with it.’

  She took one last long look at Caroline and flounced out of the back door which Caroline locked behind her with the key that Bren had just given her.

  ‘Step two,’ she whispered to herself.

  Chapter 16

  The weather had turned milder as though it was determined to dash anyone’s hopes of a white Christmas and, with the elevated temperatures, it had started to rain.

  Caroline hunched in the doorway of the Methodist church, zipping up her waterproof jacket and taking a step further back into the entranceway to avoid the worst splashes of rainwater as they ricocheted from the steps. She’d waited until it was fully dark to leave Dennis’s house, wary of Bren’s curtain-twitching and tendency to enlist help from other neighbours if she could.

  Two days earlier, a man Caroline had never seen before had turned up at Dennis’s door asking to speak to him. He claimed to be a friend from the pub and that he was concerned about her father’s well-being as he hadn’t seen him for a few days. When Caroline suggested that his concern should have manifested itself in stopping Dennis from drinking so much, he’d slouched away – as far as Bren’s front gate where he stood shaking his head at her sitting room window. She didn’t bother to tell Dennis that he’d called. Not that Dennis would have cared – the sedatives seemed to be doing
their job quite well; most of the time he didn’t really know what day it was.

  The inner door to the church opened and two people stepped out. Caroline ducked her head, hoping not to be recognised as they passed, deep in conversation. She recognised Evelyn and Warren from the meeting she had attended but neither paid any attention to her; Caroline wasn’t even sure that they’d seen her as she leaned more deeply into the shadows. Two more people left, one giving her a small nod as he passed, but still no Maddie.

  Just as she was about to open the door and look inside, Caroline’s patience was rewarded and Maddie stepped out into the vestibule. She saw Caroline immediately and gave her a wary smile.

  ‘The meeting’s finished. Looks like you got here a bit too late,’ she said, zipping up her coat and tucking her scarf tightly round her neck.

  ‘I’ve been here a while,’ Caroline admitted. ‘Trying to muster up the courage to go in. I couldn’t face it, though.’

  The wary smile gave way to something more sympathetic as Maddie asked, ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’ve been struggling a bit and I’m not very happy with myself at the moment. I know I wouldn’t be judged but I just couldn’t face talking about the crap that’s going on in my life.’

  Maddie gave her an understanding smile. ‘We’ve all been there. You really ought to try to get to a meeting. It will help, if you can face it.’

  ‘I know. I’m just a bit out of my depth at the moment. I’ll try again next week. I don’t suppose you fancy a drink?’

  ‘Not really,’ Maddie said, slipping her hands into thick woollen gloves. ‘I need to get back for Ethan; he’s in the middle of his mock exams and he’s stressing out.’ She set off down the steps, obviously intending to end the conversation.

  ‘Must be a relief to know that you’ll be able to help him with uni next year,’ Caroline said, trotting down after her. ‘And after that. It’s a long course, medicine.’