A Time for Friends

by Patricia Scanlan

  Margaret sighed as she struggled to open the cap of her paracetamol container. She felt very arthritic today, always did when it rained. Old age was unforgiving and unrelenting and a cause of great worry to her. She could feel her body deteriorating. Her eyesight was beginning to fade, her hearing getting poorer. The breathlessness caused by her heart congestion was increasing. The water tablets she took were affecting her potassium levels and had to be adjusted and it was just one thing after another, she thought glumly, as the urge to pee increased and she hoped she’d make it to the loo without wetting herself.

  What would happen, she wondered, limping back into the kitchen, if she just stopped taking all her tablets? If she thought she would go quickly to her eternal rest she’d do it, Margaret thought defiantly, wishing she had the nerve. Death did not worry her. It was the way of her going that concerned her. Her great fear about stopping her tablets was suffering a stroke and being trapped in her body. Her other great fear was ending up in a nursing home.

  She knew Hilary and Niall would do the best they could for her. Sue would think a nursing home was the perfect solution . . . as long as she didn’t have to pay . . . How had she reared a daughter who was so . . . so indifferent and self-absorbed? Margaret shook her head. She had been too soft on her children and her husband. Done too much for them. It was as much her fault as theirs that Sue and to a lesser extent Niall were somewhat selfish.

  She could see in her daughter-in-law the same giving nature she’d had. She saw how Niall and her granddaughters often took Hilary, and all she did for them, for granted. Niall was content to let Hilary run the household and ferry the girls to their various appointments. Margaret had done the same with her family while her husband had concentrated on his job. The difference was, she hadn’t worked outside the home. Hilary was a woman with a career and a very successful career at that. She had elderly parents of her own to keep an eye on. She just couldn’t be running after her and bringing her to clinics and appointments.

  But what other options did she have than to accept her daughter-in-law’s assistance, Margaret brooded, finally managing to get her tablet carton opened. She studied the pile of white rectangular tablets. It was a pity they were quite sizeable pills, difficult to swallow a large amount. An overdose caused liver damage, she’d heard. Would that be painless? What would happen if it didn’t work? She filled a glass of water and shook two tablets into her palm, and swallowed them.

  Coward!

  It’s a sin to think like that.

  If you didn’t have warfarin and the likes you’d be dead anyway – it’s the tablets that are keeping you alive. You are being kept alive through artificial means.

  ‘Oh stop it!’ she said aloud, angrily wiping the tears from her eyes. She didn’t normally give in to self-pity but she felt low and fed up today. The come-down from her steroids had kicked in and she missed the artificial energy they gave her. It was disappointing, too, to have to go back to the clinic in two weeks’ time. Even if she got a taxi herself, she would still have a long walk to the clinic along hospital corridors, without the comfort of someone beside her if she took a wobbly. But she couldn’t impose on Hilary’s kindness any longer. She would have to find some long-term solution. It was time to face facts and deal with her situation, instead of sticking her head in the sand, Margaret decided.

  She made herself a cup of tea, buttered a slice of bread and cut a hunk off a block of Cheddar cheese. A spoonful of tomato chutney and an apple completed her repast and she carried her cup and plate into her sitting room. It had grown so overcast and gloomy with the rain the room was almost dark. She switched on a lamp, the opaque light casting a warm glow over her armchair. She was tired after her early morning start; a fire would be a nice treat. Normally she didn’t light one this early but she deserved some little perk, she told herself, spiritedly placing firelighters and some turf and briquettes from the wicker basket beside the fireplace into the grate. In minutes a comforting blaze threw out a satisfying heat, the flickering flames crackling companion-ably in the hearth.

  ‘I’m very lucky, I’m still living in my own home, I have my independence and a good pension,’ she told herself, trying to raise her spirits with her little pep talk. After her lunch and a nap in front of the fire she would do her physio exercises and give some considered thought to making herself even more independent and taking some pressure off her much loved daughter-in-law. Perhaps it was time to give serious consideration to going into a nursing home, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ‘More money than sense,’ Hilary remarked later that afternoon as she and Jonathan pored over a diagram of Andrea’s house, discussing the optimum placement of lights to suit Jonathan’s interior design plan and Andrea’s desires. ‘Imagine remortgaging to spend an absolute fortune on redesigning that lovely house. They could have paid off their mortgage and borrowed from the Credit Union, and they wouldn’t be paying a massive amount of interest for the next twenty years.’

  ‘We’re not all sensible like you, daahling.’ Jonathan took a slug of coffee and stretched. ‘I’m in hoc up to my eyeballs with my mortgage and 2000 car, but I just adore driving around in my lovely new shiny BMW.’

  ‘But you don’t have kids and college fees ahead, you’re a free agent, and besides that penthouse you bought has increased in price with all that renovation you’ve done on it. You’ll more than double your price for it the way things are going. Property prices are still going way up. People won’t be able to get on the property ladder soon,’ she pointed out.

  ‘That’s the Celtic Tiger, babes. Economy expanding more than 9 per cent. One hundred per cent loans from the bank, plenty of people will be buying, and we’ll be saying no to more jobs than we’ll be saying yes to,’ Jonathan predicted confidently. ‘I mean look at how you’ve had to employ two extra people in the showrooms and three more electricians. It’s all taken off everywhere you look.’

  ‘Yeah I know, it’s incredible how much the business has grown in the last few years, but you make sure you save some of your dosh – we nearly had to close during the last recession in the eighties. I remember my parents being very worried, so I’m saving some of mine for a rainy day.’

  ‘We’re doing well, aren’t we though?’ Hammond and Harpur Interior and Lighting Design Specialists couldn’t have happened at a better time. What a stroke of luck for us that the economy’s booming and people have massive amounts of dough to spend.’ Jonathan grinned. ‘Imagine we have a waiting list! Imagine I was able to afford to take a career break!’

  ‘That’s the great thing for you, Jonathan. You have the safety net of the permanent and pensionable job to go back to if things go belly up.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’d ever go back; imagine being behind a desk after doing this. No thanks.’

  ‘At least you have the option.’

  ‘Not one I want to take. I love flying by the seat of my pants.’

  ‘It’s been mad for sure.’ Hilary sighed.

  ‘But fun, a lot of the time, Hil?’

  ‘Yeah!’

  ‘You’re in fierce bad form today. What’s up, Dac?’ he said in a Bugs Bunny voice and she laughed.

  ‘Ah nothing . . . everything. Getting stuck at the clinic with Gran H pissed me off. Niall pissed me off because he won’t have it out with Sue about doing her bit and I’ll have to ring her myself. And I have five teenagers coming for a sleepover tomorrow night, and Niall’s got a gig tonight so I’ve to do a big grocery shop. And then to crown it all I’ve to go and inspect the 2nd fix on the Horizon House Hotel project next week and I just know that little fart of an electrician is going to muck me around again. He thinks he knows everything and he can’t stand the fact that a woman is telling him what to do,’ Hilary moaned.

  ‘When are you going? I’ll rearrange consults if I have any and come with you,’ Jonathan offered.

  ‘Ah you’re grand, I’ll deal with that little muppet,’ Hilary said
grimly.

  ‘Look, we haven’t seen each other properly for ages. I’ll drive us down to Wexford and you can offload on me and I’ll tell you all about my new romance!’

  ‘Your what?’ Hilary asked, her bad humour forgotten.

  ‘I’ve met someone new,’ Jonathan smirked.

  ‘Right!! Spill!’ Hilary refilled their mugs from the percolator of coffee he’d made when they got back to the office.

  ‘Well he’s younger than me—’

  ‘Aren’t I always telling you to go with someone your own age or someone older for a change?’ Hilary threw her eyes up to heaven.

  ‘No, listen. Leon, that’s his name, is very mature. He’s a dad.’

  Hilary raised an eyebrow. ‘Married?’

  ‘No!’ her friend exclaimed indignantly. ‘He was with a girl for a couple of years and she got pregnant. They never got married and they’ve separated and she married someone else a few years ago. His son is eight. Leon hasn’t come out to his family yet. He’s lovely though, honestly. You’ll like him.’

  They always are, thought Hilary, but she kept that view to herself. ‘Where did you meet him?’

  ‘Would you believe I went into a small bistro in Dalkey. I was visiting a client to show her some swatches and I was too early so I went to a little place off a side street to have a cappuccino and a wrap and it was jammers. I sat at a counter and he was sitting beside me, and I dropped a book of swatches and he picked it up. And then we got chatting. Turns out he’s a carpenter. We’ve quite a lot in common actually.’

  ‘And this was a month ago and you’re only telling me now?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise. Usually Jonathan would be on the phone immediately after meeting someone new.

  ‘I’m taking your advice; I’m playing it cool. Not rushing anything. I think this could work out, Hil,’ Jonathan said, eyes alight.

  ‘Oh Jonathan, I’d love if it did. You so deserve to find someone nice. Someone who will give you as much as you give them. Not a taker or a freeloader – you’ve had enough of them.’ Hilary jumped up and threw her arms around her dear friend and gave him a hug. Her greatest wish for him was that he would find the love of his life and be in the loving relationship he so longed for. ‘Aw thanks. Fingers crossed I don’t mess up this time. I don’t think Hannah could take any more sob stories . . . or you either,’ he grimaced. ‘Cripes, look at the time, I’d better get out of here, I’ve to go and meet Davy King in Woodies to mix a particular shade of duck egg blue to go with a fabulous flock wallpaper. It cost a fortune. A hundred and ten sterling a roll, and they needed ten rolls so I have to get the paint just right. See ya, darlin’. We’ve sorted the 2nd fix in Wexford so I’ll drive us down next week. Give the gang my love and tell Sophie to have a great sleepover. Give Smokin’ Sue hell!’ He jumped up off the chair, put all his work designs neatly into a folder and gave her a hug before pulling on his black pure-wool coat and leather gloves.

  Hilary laughed. ‘I’ll phone Sue, all right, for all the good it will do. Give your mother my love and have a good weekend with her.’

  ‘I will. Bye, ducks.’ And then he was gone, like a whirling dervish, coat flaps flying open behind him, scarf blowing in the wind as he crossed Illuminations’ car park to his shining new pride and joy. He waved as he drove past and she waved back before turning to the paperwork on her untidy desk.

  Hilary sighed at the mess of papers that needed her attention. She was not an organized person, not like Jonathan whose desk in his home office was immaculate. Everything filed neatly and colour-coded. It was time he came and did one of her office tidies. He did it every six months or so and would stand over her until every item on her desk was cleared and order ruled once more, until a lack of time and organization would start the whole process off again. Hilary had a secretary who was so busy with Illuminations business she didn’t have time to keep her boss’s desk as tidy as each of them would have liked.

  Perhaps Hilary could come in for an hour on Sunday and put manners on the place, she decided, pulling out the file for Horizon House to remind herself of the lighting layout. She was studying it intently when her direct line rang. Her husband’s number flashed up.

  ‘Hi, sorry, I’m only getting a chance to ring you now. We had the managers over from Dubai and Moscow for a meeting and then I took them to lunch and you know yourself,’ he sighed. ‘How did Mam get on?’

  ‘She’s got an appointment in two weeks because of being on the steroids and antibiotics; they really muck up her blood.’ Hilary was not in the mood to hear about Niall’s busy day. She had enough work of her own to deal with.

  ‘Rats!’ he groaned. ‘I won’t be here. I have that trip to Canada to visit the concessions in Montreal, Ottawa, Halifax and Winnipeg, remember? That’s a nuisance. Can we reschedule for when I’m back?’

  ‘No!’ she said irritably. ‘That’s not an option with warfarin. And I have a client consult that morning so Sue’s going to have to do it. I’ve been asking and asking you to get in touch with her about your mother’s appointments and you haven’t and I’m sick of it,’ she snapped.

  ‘Keep your hair on, I’ll ring her when I get a chance,’ he growled.

  ‘You’ve been saying that for ages, Niall. If you don’t ring her I will,’ she warned.

  ‘I hear you,’ he retorted. ‘I’ll call her today. Anything else strange or startling?’ he said, changing the subject.

  ‘No, don’t forget Sophie’s friends are coming to stay on a sleepover tomorrow so I have to do a shop later. Are you coming home or going straight to the gig tonight?’

  ‘I’ll shower and change here and go from work; no point in getting stuck in the rush hour twice. So don’t worry about dinner for me.’

  ‘I wasn’t,’ she said drily. ‘I was going to order a Chinese – I haven’t time to cook.’

  ‘OK, look, I have to go. I’ll try not to wake you up when I get home.’

  ‘OK, bye,’ Hilary said unenthusiastically and hung up.

  Don’t worry about dinner for me. Niall was a hoot, she scowled. Did he really think she was sitting in her office worrying about what to give him for his dinner? Friday night was Chinese night. The only cooked meal he’d be getting this weekend was on Sunday, unless he cooked it himself. Sophie wanted to order in pizza for her friends so Millie and she and Niall could have pizza too. Hilary was planning to cook two joints of roast on Sunday so she could do a dinner for Gran H and her own parents as well, with enough for a dinner for them on Monday. She’d stock up on a few Butler’s Pantry meals for her freezer the next time she was passing one of their branches. That would give her a bit of leeway even if it was expensive.

  Niall had better ring his sister, Hilary scowled, or Ms Susan Hammond Kelly would be getting an irate phone call from her and she didn’t care whose feelings would be hurt.

  Niall scrolled down through his phone until he got to his sister’s number. He sighed deeply, tapping his pen impatiently against his desk as he waited for Sue to answer. He was exasperated having to make the call. He knew his sister of old, knew that she would make excuses about being ‘up to her eyes’, saying she couldn’t take days off ‘at the drop of a hat’. And ‘couldn’t their mother not take a taxi to her various appointments’. The phone rang out and went into voicemail as he knew it would.

  ‘Sue, it’s me. Please call me back sooner rather than later. Thanks,’ he said crisply. He deliberately didn’t say why he wanted her to ring him back and left the message suitably vague hoping that the request might make her think something was up and she would ring to see what was wrong.

  They weren’t close siblings. Sue was ten years older than him. His mother had suffered several miscarriages before conceiving him. Sue, who had been especially spoilt by their father, had not been impressed with the mewling little stranger who had taken her parents’ focus off her. She had left home to share a flat with friends when he was eight and they had nothing in common except their parents. After their father’s sudden death
she had been happy to let Hilary and Niall provide her mother with the comfort and practical aid that Margaret so badly needed. Gradually Margaret had come to depend on them, taking great solace in the company of her grandchildren. Sue had been happy that she was able to continue to live her life unhampered by the needs of her aged mother. Her free and easy life was coming to an end, Niall thought grimly. Hilary was generally very easygoing but when she got a bee in her bonnet about something it was time to look out.

  Sue Hammond Kelly’s’ lips tightened as she listened to her brother’s message. What now? she thought irascibly. Was something wrong with their mother or did Niall want something of her? His message was very ambiguous, but he sounded bossy rather than stressed. One way of finding out what was up, she decided, punching in a number on her office landline.

  ‘Hello.’ She heard her mother’s voice with a flash of relief. Margaret was at home in her own house so all must be well.

  ‘How are things, Mam?’ she asked casually. ‘How’s the chest infection?’

  ‘Ah, Sue, I’m not too bad at all. How are things with you, dear?’

  ‘Oh I’m up to my ears as usual. Mr Barrington is phenomenally busy. He’s developing a big shopping centre in the Midlands and is trying to get planning issues sorted and it’s all go, I can tell you. I never have a minute.’

  ‘Ah God love you. Poor Hilary is up to her eyes as well. We couldn’t go for our usual coffee after my clinic appointment because she had to go to a meeting,’ Margaret confided.

  ‘Poor girl,’ Sue yawned. ‘And how did you get on at the clinic? Did you get four weeks out of it?’

  ‘Unfortunately not,’ sighed her mother. ‘The steroids and antibiotics have it all out of kilter so I’ve to go back in two weeks’ time.’

  ‘That’s a shame,’ Sue said sympathetically. ‘Look, I’ll pop over some night after work for an hour or two, so take it easy. I’ll bring some pesto chicken soup and some brown rice. That will build you up. Talk soon, Mam. Cheers.’ She hung up and stared out of the window. She knew now why Niall had phoned. He needed her to bring their mother to the clinic. For some reason Hilary mustn’t be able to do it. Hilary was her own boss. It was much easier for her to take time off than it was for Sue. Mr Barrington hated it when she took days off. He even rang her at home, often at ten or eleven at night, wanting her to organize something for him that couldn’t wait until the morning.