by Hilary Boyd
‘Yes. I’ve seen my GP. All’s well, she says. I’ve got to make a decision about whether to have a CVS and an amnio.’
‘It’s a difficult choice. What does Fin say?’
‘He doesn’t want the baby at all.’
She’d said it without thinking, almost to herself, but when she saw the shock on Simon Kent’s face she felt instantly ashamed of her disloyal remark. In the couple of days since Fin had been away, she’d had time to think, and his attitude weighed heavily on her. She wanted to be joyful, to celebrate – as she had done with Prue and Bel – to feel her heart sing with his about this miraculous thing they had done together. But there still seemed to be no joy on his part, only a forced insistence that he cared.
‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’
Dr Kent nodded, picking up his bag. ‘Don’t panic. He’ll get there. When he sees the baby he won’t be able to resist it. Jasmine took my breath away, she was completely astonishing.’ His face softened as he thought of his daughter. Please, thought Flora, please let that be how Fin feels when the baby is born.
*
‘Hmm …’ Rene fell silent on the other end of the phone. ‘This isn’t right,’ she said eventually. ‘He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. But I bet you when I talk to him, he’ll say there was a tear in the corner, or it wasn’t signed properly, or it had been restored badly. Some excuse for his paltry cheque.’
‘Dr Kent said he probably put it in a normal sale instead of a specialist one where there’d be Bowman collectors.’
‘Well, that could account for it I suppose. He may be doing his best and simply be incompetent – he always seems a bit of a numpty to me, but it’s still not right.’ Flora heard Rene give one of her weary sighs. ‘One bit of news,’ she went on. ‘I just got a call from the agency. Pia is going home to be with her sister, who’s been taken ill. She doesn’t know when she’ll be back. This is her last weekend with Dorothea.’
‘Thank God.’ Flora made no attempt to hide her relief.
‘Be careful, Flora. We have no evidence whatever of Pia being anything but loving to Dorothea. I know there was a time when we were suspicious, but it was our mistake – nothing else was ever proved. You and Mary mustn’t go about saying unpleasant things about her.’
Flora put Dorothea to bed before supper – she seemed too tired to sit upright any more. She brought the wheelchair through so the old lady wouldn’t have to walk, and as she pushed her past the desk, Dorothea pointed up to the space on the wall where the painting had hung.
‘I think … I rather miss it.’
‘Oh dear. Perhaps you shouldn’t let Dominic sell any more of your things. You don’t need the money and it’s nice to have stuff around that’s familiar to you.’
Dorothea didn’t reply at first.
‘I think he likes … doing things for me.’
‘Yes, but don’t let him take your favourite bits.’
The old lady waved her hand. ‘I don’t think I really mind.’
*
On her way home, she bumped into Keith in the hall.
‘Hey, Florence. You look happy.’
‘Do I? I’m certainly pleased about one thing. That nurse, the one I asked you to check out on the CCTV? She’s leaving next week, going back to the Philippines.’
‘Oh … but she was doing what she said, wasn’t she?’
‘Sort of … yes, I suppose. But there’s no question that Dorothea didn’t like her for some reason. Now I expect we’ll never know, which is annoying.’
Keith gave her a mischievous grin. ‘I could give it one more go … try and catch her at it this weekend?’
‘That’s a bit childish. Isn’t it?’
‘Yeah … but that doesn’t mean we can’t do it.’
Flora smiled. ‘No harm in one little visit, I suppose.’
‘Right. Will do. I’ll call you when I’ve been up … probably Sunday.’
‘I’m sure she’ll be baking muffins and cuddling Dorothea.’
‘Sounds gross.’
Flora went home to her empty flat with guilty relief. She was aware that she’d begun to dread coming back to Fin’s growling, unpredictable energy, never knowing what sort of mood he would be in, having always to walk on eggshells to avoid confrontation. The New Year had been difficult, but not because they fought. As promised, they had put a moratorium on any mention of the future and tried to create an indulgent cocoon of love-making, old movies, walks in the park. And Fin seemed quite happy with this. But she found all she wanted to talk about was the baby. She wanted to fantasise with Fin about the colour of its eyes, whether he or she would have hair; work out the sort of birth she wanted; discuss how they would parent together. She felt resentful that she couldn’t do this with her baby’s father.
*
‘Think you better get over here … now, if possible.’ Keith’s voice was grim when he called on Sunday afternoon.
‘What’s happened?’
‘Just get here. And tell Mrs Carmichael to come too.’
When Flora got to the flat, Keith and Dorothea were alone. She was in bed, lying with her face to the wall.
‘What happened?’
Keith, his face a mask of suppressed fury, pushed her out into the hall.
‘I did as we’d agreed and let myself in about half an hour ago, around four o’clock. That bitch was in the sitting room with two of her friends. They were laughing and drinking and had all sorts of food – it’s still in there on the table – and Dorothea had been plonked in her wheelchair in the corner by the window, her back to the room.’
Flora felt her whole body tense with rage.
‘She had a piece of cake on her lap the size of a house – she couldn’t possibly have eaten it all in a million years. And she was cold as ice. I put her straight to bed, but she’d wet herself and I had to change her and while I was doing it Pia and her mates scarpered. Fucking bitch. You should have seen her face when I walked in.’
‘What did she say?’
‘She said she was having a leaving party for Dorothea, and these were her friends who Dorothea had met before and loved.’
‘She’s always got an answer.’
‘And when I challenged her and asked why she was sitting with her back to them then, she said the old lady’d nodded off and so she’d turned her round so she wouldn’t be disturbed. But she could see how angry I was. I think she was scared about what I’d do.’ He shook his head. ‘The three of them began to gabble in their own language, obviously guilty as shit.’
They stood in shocked silence for a moment, then Keith pulled his phone out of his pocket. ‘I’m going to call the police.’
‘They won’t be interested. To anyone else, she was just having a leaving party, like she said.’
The porter hesitated, phone in mid-air. ‘But abusing an old person must be a crime.’
‘If you have actual proof that someone hit her or tortured her. But what proof do we have? Even if Dorothea told us, which she hasn’t so far, she’d never tell the police.’ Flora sat down. ‘Christ … this is my fault. I knew there was a problem. I should have followed my instincts, looked into it more thoroughly. I’d like to kill her. She can’t just get away with it …’
‘Looks like that’s exactly what she’ll do.’
‘Rene’s been in Dorset for the weekend, but she’s on her way back. She said she’d come straight round. I’d better go and see to Dorothea. God, I feel so bad about this. Mary and I knew all along that something was up.’
‘Yeah, but what could you do if Miss H-T wouldn’t dob her in?’
‘I don’t know. But something.’
Flora went into Dorothea’s room. The old lady spun round at once, her face a mask of anxiety. Flora laid her hand gently on her arm.
‘It’s OK, Pia’s gone. For good.’
But the old lady still looked past her, as if she expected the other nurse to come through the door.
‘I promise she’s g
one, Dorothea.’ She sat beside her patient. ‘I’m so, so sorry. Mary and I knew you didn’t like her, we just didn’t know why.’
Dorothea blinked furiously, clutching at Flora’s hand.
‘She … she made me eat that disgusting cake … all of it.’ Flora saw the tears fill her pale eyes. ‘She wouldn’t do anything for me … until I’d … eaten it.’
‘And she did this all the time?’
Dorothea shook her head. ‘Sometimes … she would be nice to me … very kind. But then she would … leave me … refuse to take me to the bathroom or give me … a drink.’
The tears trickled down the papery skin and Flora reached for a tissue and gently wiped them away.
‘I … didn’t know what she might do.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me? We all suspected her, but we had no proof.’
Dorothea didn’t reply for a moment, her mouth working away, twisting nervously.
‘She said … if I told … that no one would believe me. That I was … a silly old woman.’ She paused, gathering her breath. ‘And if they did believe me, Rene would sack all the nurses and … put me in a home.’
‘Rene would never do that.’
She stared at Flora for a moment. ‘I … wasn’t sure.’
‘Oh, Dorothea, I’m so sorry.’
‘I sometimes find … it difficult to … get things straight. I thought … maybe Rene was … fed up with looking after me.’
‘She’d never put you in a home in a million years.’
Dorothea sighed. ‘It was horrible … the cake. It made me feel sick.’
Later, Keith and Flora were in the kitchen having a cup of tea. Flora had washed the old lady, settled her, and now she was asleep.
‘So Pia’ll get off scot free.’
Keith shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘She’ll do a runner before anyone catches up with her is my guess. Probably never come back.’
‘Not much consolation.’
‘The nurses’ agency can blackball her, but what difference will that make if she stays in the Philippines?’
They fell silent, both simmering with rage, lost in thoughts of revenge and, in Flora’s case, guilt that she hadn’t followed her instincts. She imagined how helpless Dorothea must have felt, pinned in her own home at the mercy of Pia, not able to stand up to her, and not daring to tell anyone for fear of the consequences. The cruelty of it made her want to cry.
Flora broke the silence. ‘Rene will be gutted too,’ she said. ‘And how will she choose another nurse? Pia seemed so sweet and kind … although Mary never, ever liked her.’
‘I promise I will kill her if I ever set eyes on her again,’ Keith growled helplessly.
When Mary turned up that night, Flora worried smoke was about to pour from her head, she was so angry.
‘The cruel bloody bitch! What did I tell you? What did I bloody tell you? We’ve got her address, I’ve a good mind to go round and beat her to a pulp.’
‘There’s a queue.’
‘She should be locked up and tortured, the abusing bitch. It’s sick. And I knew it. I knew it all along. I kept saying, didn’t I? I kept telling you all.’
‘Shhh, keep your voice down. Dorothea will hear you.’
But it was a while before the Irish nurse calmed down.
*
Fin had barely rung her since he’d been away, nor she him. When they did talk it was as if he was on a high, rattling on about all the guys he’d met at the climbing wall, the training he was getting into, the relief at being in the open air again. When she asked how it was going with the house, he seemed evasive, even though he insisted he was sorting it. He rang that night when she was finishing her supper. She was still shocked and distressed about what had happened to Dorothea and wanted to talk to him about it.
‘How’s it all going?’ she asked.
‘Great. I was talking to my new friend, Neil, the guy at the wall, today. He says there’s a fantastic expedition he thinks I should get on if I’m fit enough. In Nepal, the Anna-purna circuit. I’ve always wanted to do it. It’s not till the autumn, so I reckon I should be fit enough by then if I really train hard – it’s not as punishing as a lot of the climbs over there. And it’s coming back, Flo, my strength. Slowly, but I already feel energised from just a few days up here.’
She laughed. ‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’
‘What?’
‘Oh, just a small matter of the baby.’
There was silence at the other end of the phone.
‘Yeah … but the trip isn’t till early September. It’ll have been born by then, won’t it?’
Flora was lost for words.
‘Flo? Won’t it, if it’s due the first week of August?’ His voice sounded suddenly urgent.
‘It’ll have been born, yes, but are you really suggesting you abandon us as soon as it has?’
Another silence.
‘Obviously I’ll be there for the birth, I’m not going to miss that. But I won’t be much help when it’s small, will I? I haven’t a clue what to do with a baby. I can’t even feed it. You’ll have Prue …’ His voice tailed off, as if he’d finally realised what he was saying.
Flora quietly put the phone down. She was too stunned to cry. She sat in blank astonishment for a time, not knowing what to be most upset about. Apart from the fact that he was considering abandoning her as soon as the baby was born, he had clearly no intention of getting the house organised to sell or rent. He was assuming she would still be here, near to her sister for help, because it suited him now. So all the talk about being together in their own place in time for the baby – whether in Inverness or not – was just so much hot air in the face of a possible mountain adventure.
He phoned back immediately, twice, three times, then texted her. But she didn’t respond, she didn’t know what to say. In the end she called him back, just to stop the endless barrage of messages.
‘Christ, Flo, the phone went dead and I thought something had happened to you. I imagined you lying on the floor in a faint. Why didn’t you answer the phone? I’ve called a million times. I was just about to ring Prue and get her to check on you.’
‘Sorry. I was upset.’
‘Upset? About what?’
‘About you going off just after the baby is born.’
‘God … I didn’t … I mean I don’t have to go, I suppose. I might not even get onto the trip if I can’t raise the money. I just thought I’d be in the way in that small flat, and fucking useless. I thought it’d be better to get out of your hair. By the time I go, if I do, it’ll be at least three weeks old.’ He spoke as if this was perfectly reasonable.
‘So what happened to the place we were going to get in time for the baby?’
She heard a long sigh. ‘Yeah … well, it’s complicated. I’ve talked to a couple of agents and they say it’ll be hard to rent out the place, and mad to try and sell it. And doing it up to a good standard for a baby is going to take cash, which I don’t have.’ He paused. ‘So perhaps it’s better to stay where we are until we can get things moving.’
Flora knew he was lying. She knew he hadn’t been near an agent, or given the house a moment’s thought. All he’d been doing was getting back into his old life, his old habits. She and the baby could whistle for it.
‘Listen, I’m tired. We can talk when you get back.’
‘But you’re OK now? I don’t want you worrying about stuff. I’ll be back soon. I just need a bit more time to get this fitness thing under way. Love you.’
It’s like talking to a junky back on smack, she thought, wincing at his glib show of concern.
‘Bye, Fin.’ As she sat there, the phone still in her hand, she realised she had caught Fin at a unique point in his life, when he’d been involuntarily ripped from his addiction by force of circumstance. It hadn’t made him happy, but it had made him dependent, unable to just take off to access his habit. His obsession with the mountains had worked for her before, when she had such a demandin
g life herself. But now she was asking for something more, and Fin didn’t like to be asked.
*
Dorothea was going downhill fast. She was refusing to eat much, losing weight by the day, and her skin was beginning to break down from lying on her stone-hard mattress. Rene organised a proper hospital bed, which was higher and wider and had the mechanism to raise the head or the foot, together with a state-of-the-art waterproof air mattress. The men put the bed in the sitting room on Rene’s instructions.
‘She’ll be much better off in here than in that poky bedroom. She can see out of the windows, have a bit of space.’ Flora could see that Rene was still sad and angry about the Pia fiasco. Like Keith, she had wanted to involve the police, but there was no evidence that Pia intended harm. They both had to accept she would be long gone by now.
‘What’s that thing doing here?’ The old lady looked confused, waving her hand at the huge bed.
‘We thought you’d be more comfortable.’ Rene went over to the wheelchair and took her friend’s hand. ‘It’s got an air mattress to stop you getting sore on your bottom and your heels.’
Dorothea looked unsettled. ‘But … shall I be sleeping in the drawing-room?’
‘Yes. You’ll have lots of space, and the nurses will be able to look after you more easily.’
Dorothea glanced at Flora. ‘Where will I go during the day?’
‘You can stay in here, in your usual chair. But when you get tired the bed’s right there.’
She eyed the bed as if it were an unwelcome intruder. ‘I’m not sure I shall like it.’
Rene gave her an encouraging smile. ‘You might feel a bit strange at first, but you’re going to love the mattress. Your one in the bedroom must be pre-war.’
Dorothea nodded, clearly not seeing anything wrong with this. ‘It was my mother’s.’
Rene rolled her eyes at Flora. ‘Well, try this one out and see how you get on.’
‘How’s the new bed?’ Keith Godly was in the doorway. ‘Saw them bringing it in. Wow! Looks more like an ocean liner than a bed, eh?’ He winked at Dorothea.
