Time Out of Mind

by Ruth Hay

  Time Out of Mind

  Ruth Hay

  Contents

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Afterword

  Also by Ruth Hay

  For my mother—and all mothers.

  * * *

  Time discovers truth.

  ~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca

  ABOUT THIS BOOK

  Time Out of Mind is the second story in the Prime Time series.

  * * *

  When two young people from opposite sides of the Atlantic meet accidentally in England’s Lake District, Anna Mason finds another piece of the family puzzle she has been seeking.

  * * *

  This story highlights the problems of today’s families where four generations compete for time and space.

  Chapter One

  Sometimes I wake in the dark. I can’t remember where I am. I know I dare not let my thoughts and fears overcome me, so I think back to some place in my life where I was happy and peaceful.

  Tonight I am remembering how it all began.

  She was always meant to be my best friend. I watched her for months in that first year of college. She had two girlfriends, while I could not manage to find one person I felt comfortable with.

  I was envious of her easy manner; the way she tossed back her ponytail as she laughed with Margaret and Amy. They always seemed to be laughing together. I sank back behind a tree or a bench and wondered what the magic was that made it so simple for them.

  I used to look at myself in a mirror in the privacy of the bathroom at home to see if I could find out what prevented me from the social life I longed for. I was average looking, no great beauty, but not ugly either. My hair was a little too curly and the colour was a bit mousy for my taste, but I had no disfiguring features and my skin was pretty good for a teenager. Perhaps my heavy eyebrows gave me a stern look and frightened people away.

  Of course, it could be my brain that was causing the problem. How could I be blamed for having a high IQ? I tried in class to look down when answers were required, so teachers could not call on me for information. This strategy didn’t always work. The teachers must have seen my test scores and expected results. They would ask me for the difficult answers by name, which made me even more of an outcast in the class.

  I suffered in silence for months but finally things started to change. Margaret dropped out of the program and Amy was having a lot of difficulty with the heavy, first-year science courses that were set up to discourage all but the truly dedicated nursing students.

  Marion and Amy came to me for help in the end, and at last I was an accepted member of their trio.

  Lunches were fun and full of gossip. I learned things that I had never suspected despite the hours I had spent observing on the sidelines. How they found out some of that stuff I could not imagine. There must have been a network of spies in the city reporting every move to key students like Marion.

  Even our study periods were such fun that I was reprimanded in the library for causing a disturbance instead of studying. The look of surprise the librarian gave me had me blushing in shame for an hour, which just made Marion and Amy choke with laughter.

  The course work was easy for me. With a father and older brother working in the university labs, I had heard all the terminology and read all the books on science that had ever been written, since I was in primary school.

  For the first time that year I relaxed and discovered something of a talent for teaching.

  At least Amy and Marion thought so. Their compliments were more and more reassuring as their marks improved and soon our school relationship developed into a social one also.

  Amy could not often join us for the weekend dances as she lived out of the city and took a train home every Friday night. During the week we met in Amy’s room at the college residence to study or talk, over a cup of coffee and whatever our meager allowances could afford in the way of treats, but on the weekend Marion was all mine.

  Both of us worked on Saturdays in stores in the city centre but we met at lunchtime to shop for the dresses to dazzle the local talent at one of the city’s many dance halls.

  The Plaza Ballroom was our favourite haunt. Marion was the teacher there. She was a star on the dance floor with swirling skirts and all the latest dance moves. The boys soon spotted her and the best male dancer in the large ballroom would make a beeline for her so they could strut their stuff before the admiring crowds and take centre position in front of the band for the major part of the evening.

  When the band took their break we ordered Knickerbocker Glories and sat at a table plying the long spoons and relishing the ice cream concoction in the tall glasses layered with fruit and banana pieces and topped with raspberry sauce poured over thick cream.

  Sometimes a dancer would offer to pay for our ice creams for the privilege of talking to Marion.

  She graciously accepted with a wink to me. The treats cost two shillings and sixpence each, a considerable proportion of our earnings from the day’s work in stores.

  This was how Marion met Gus and my real life began.

  * * *

  “Now, how are we today? Had a good sleep? I’ll just open these curtains and you can see the weather. It’s going to be a lovely day. Let’s get you sitting up a bit and I’ll bring you a nice cup of tea as soon as I’ve got your clothes set out on the chair here. Now stay there for a moment and someone will help you to the bathroom later.”

  My eyes were still closed but I could hear drawers open and shut and the tuneless humming as she flushed the toilet in the bathroom and put used towels into the laundry hamper. Who was this woman? I didn’t recognize the harsh English accent and I knew I would not recognize her face either. Where was I? Where were my children?

  The awful grating noise as the door swung open startled me into opening my eyes for a moment. The same drab room was there. Nothing had changed since the night before. I sank back into the pillows and sighed.

  “Oh, there you are Patrick! Yes, go ahead with the floor. She hasn’t even opened her eyes yet. I doubt you could disturb the old soul if you tried. She hasn’t said a word for days.

  I’ll be back in a minute with her tea and pills. Just keep an eye on her in case she decides to wander. We don’t want her falling down with a visitor coming later.”

  A visitor she said? Maybe Lynn, or Philip, or Sarah? Any weel kent face would be so nice to see. It seems so long since I saw any of the family. Why am I here? What have I done to deserve this? I must get up and dress. They can’t see me like this, lying in bed like an invalid. What would they think of me?

  “No, no Mrs. Purdy, Mary will be back in a minute with your tea. Just you lie back and rest till she comes, there’s a dear.”

  I am not your ‘dear’, my man. Take your hands off me. I’ll get up when I want to thank you very much.

  “Quick, give me a hand here, Mary. She nearly fell out of bed. Her legs were tangled up in the bedclothes.”

  “Lord help us, Patrick! I don’t know how we are supposed to watch over all these old biddies when they won’t do what they’re told.”
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  “Oh, Mary! Don’t let the supervisor hear you talking like that. You’ll get fired for certain.”

  “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Anyway, she’s half-way up now. I’ll take her to the bathroom if you get the walker for me. Finish the floor in here and leave the rest till later. It looks like this is going to be one of those days.”

  * * *

  “Mother! You can’t mean it! I have been in that horrible nursing home before and I know how it smells. The heating is like a sauna and the zombies are all over the place just sitting staring into space. You can’t ask me to go there on my own. You just can’t!”

  “Caroline, you can stop that moaning right now. You know my work hours have increased this week with Easter holidays looming. I can’t take the time to visit my gran, and my mother and father are still in Greece for another month or so.”

  “But what about Mike or Dad? Couldn’t they go instead?”

  “Get real, Caroline! What use would your brother or father be in that place? At least you could talk to her for a while and paint her nails or something. Take some music with you and listen to your iPod. I need you to do this. She is your great-grandmother you know.”

  “It’s so not fair!”

  “Who told you life was fair? It is what it is, for now. This situation won’t last forever.”

  “But I have homework! My A-levels are in six weeks!”

  “Perfect! You can do the homework there. She hasn’t spoken much lately and she isn’t likely to interrupt your studies. Now, no more buts, Caroline! Go there after school today. I’m counting on you.”

  * * *

  It was close to four o’clock when Caroline jumped down from the bus and walked the half mile to the nursing home. She moved slowly past the street of shops and stopped at the grocery store for an apple and a juice drink, thinking she had better have sustenance to get her through the rest of the afternoon. Her mother would pick her up at six on her way home from work.

  Two hours would not be too bad and her mother would owe her a favour for this, for sure.

  It could translate into a new pair of jeans or those great American trainers, with any luck.

  The nursing home had a locked entry so Caroline waited while one of the staff punched in the code and opened the door.

  “I’m Caroline, here to see my great-grandmother, Isobel Purdy.”

  “Come right in, Caroline. Your mother called earlier. Mrs. Purdy is expecting you. I’ll take you down to her room and tell you the schedule for today.”

  Caroline followed the woman in the red, short-sleeved top and navy trousers through a maze of hallways. Caroline’s nose wrinkled as she encountered the awful stench of old people that permeated this place. How could they stand it every day? Perhaps they didn’t notice it after a while. Not willing to dwell on this thought, she turned her attention to the woman’s instructions.

  “The dinner meal is served in the dining room at six o’clock so if you can wheel Mrs. Purdy along there by six, we’ll make sure she eats something. You are very welcome to stay for the meal, of course.”

  Caroline had no intention of staying a minute past six and she was relieved she had the excuse that she was to be picked up by her mother.

  “Fine, then. One of the girls will bring a tray with tea and biscuits for you both. If you need any help, just press the red emergency buttons. There’s one in each room.”

  As she delivered this warning, the woman, whose name tag said ‘Mary’, held open the door and ushered Caroline forward.

  Her great-grandmother was sitting in an armchair near a window. Her eyes were shut and her mouth open. For one horrible moment, Caroline thought she might be dead, but a low groan issued from the old woman’s mouth and Caroline decided she was only fast asleep.

  Caroline stared in horrid fascination in a way she would never have dared had her mother’s grandmother been awake.

  So this is what old age looks like. A shudder passed through her.

  The face was pale and wrinkled across the surface with lines that seemed to run both horizontally and perpendicularly till they crossed each other in places. The lips were thin and only the palest pink tint distinguished them from the surrounding skin. Her family’s trademark thick, dark eyebrows had faded to a thin white line on this face, but Caroline was pleased to see the white hair on her great-grandmother’s head had never been subjected to the standard tight, curly perm that so many old ladies seemed to favour.

  Her attention was drawn to the hands clutching the arms of the padded chair. There was a hint of desperation in the way the fingers curled around the ends, almost as if the person feared falling if she let the tension go for just one minute.

  What on earth is she thinking about, wondered Caroline. What is there to think about in this ghastly place?

  * * *

  Marion and Gus were an item as soon as they met. It was like two magnets zooming together.

  Gus was a snappy dresser even for those more formal times. He always wore a sports jacket with a tie to match his shirt and his brownish hair was slicked back with Brylcreem, except for a lock that worked its way free and curled over his forehead when he danced the foxtrot or quickstep.

  Marion made sure I had a ‘pity’ dance with Gus if no partner appeared for me.

  I accepted, just to see if his proximity really held the magic Marion insisted was there.

  I couldn’t deny his attraction, although he politely held me at a distance and exchanged small talk, unlike the close grip he maintained on Marion when they were swaying and whispering on the dance floor.

  Marion’s mother was very strict and would never have approved of her darling daughter’s serious boyfriend. She was supposed to dedicate herself to obtaining a nursing qualification before any male relationships intervened in her life. I was an approved friend because of my ability to improve Marion’s exam results, so weekend dances were safe when ‘dear Isobel’ was in attendance.

  Fortunately, Marion’s mother never knew the way her daughter gazed longingly into Gus’ blue eyes, fringed with the longest eyelashes I had ever seen.

  I can see them on the dance floor now. It was as if a bubble enclosed them and nothing else in the world mattered. Marion glowed with joy and Gus stood even taller with pride. Everyone could see what was happening. It was clear to me from the very first night.

  Eventually, Marion realized that she needed me to make up a foursome. Two couples going around together would not cause the kind of gossip that ruins reputations and might reach her mother’s ears. Gus supplied a partner for me, and that is how I met Kyle.

  * * *

  “Hello? It’s me, Caroline. I’m your granddaughter, well, your great-granddaughter actually.

  I have a cup of tea here for you.”

  “Sarah?” The blue-veined eyelids flashed up revealing eyes of a paler brown than Caroline’s own. The voice was dry and cracked as if it hadn’t been used for some time.

  “No, Sarah’s my mother. She’s your granddaughter. Oh, crap, this is too complicated. I can’t keep calling you a hyphenated title. What do you say I call you G.G?”

  “I am not a horse, girl!”

  Caroline was surprised to hear this wry statement emerging from the old woman’s mouth.

  First of all, everyone said she didn’t talk, and second of all she had not expected a sense of humour.

  Quickly gathering her wits about her, Caroline suggested the initials were intended to be said with a French accent like Gigi, not a signal to a horse to start moving. “How does that sound to you?”

  A spark of interest appeared in the faded brown eyes and she straightened her back, bending forward to look more closely at the young girl in front of her chair.

  “I like Gigi. It was the name of a girl in a movie I saw many years ago. Who did you say you were?”

  “I am Caroline. Sarah and David are my parents, and Sarah is the daughter of your daughter Lynn.”

  Gigi, the French girl in the movie, arriving in Pari
s so young and innocent, unprepared for life in the big city. It was a musical with singing and dancing. ‘The Night They Invented Champagne!’

  “What’s that you’re singing Gigi? You have a lovely voice. I wish I knew the song and we could sing together.”

  The song dissolved into humming and the old woman sank back in the chair again as if all her energy had been expended.

  Caroline was amazed that she had been able to make some kind of contact with her ancient relative. Her mother would be pleased to hear about the singing and the questions. Perhaps she could do some good here and brighten up the dreary life of this old woman until the regular schedule of family visits resumed.

  Caroline drank the tea and ate the biscuits while she flipped through her homework assignments. It’s not so bad, here, she decided. It’s super quiet and there are no distractions like at home. I just have to remember to wear a shirt instead of a jumper, or I’ll melt.

  * * *

  A pretty young girl. She says she’s family. She looks a little familiar. I hope she comes back again. So many new faces in this place. I never know who they are. She calls me Gigi. That’s nice. It makes me feel young again.

  Kyle was my very first boyfriend. He was a pal of Gus and they were both in an engineering course at a Technical College in the city centre. It was convenient for all of us that Kyle and I should pair up. The trouble was that I didn’t like him much. Compared to the dazzling Gus who made my heart beat faster whenever I saw him, Kyle was a poor substitute.