“Dad,” he grasps my hand, “if Jules left, would I still have you?”
I can’t answer that. I’m nothing without her and we both know it. Her loving me is the only reason I came back to life, otherwise I would’ve remained the community worker seeking no life for himself. “You’re forgetting, she would never leave any of us, not now. You have to trust her. We both do.”
He wipes his eyes, struggling to recover. He’s carrying so many worries for a guy of his age. I owe him some explanation.
“Joe, when I was in the police, I was undercover, you know that?”
He nods.
“I got on drugs. It was bad.” I stare him in the eye, showing him the man I am. I’m broken, I’m not fixed, but I choose to be better. “I watched an accident on the Avenue. A man got run over and died before my eyes. I had a strange experience that day I can’t explain. I just knew I couldn’t do the drugs anymore and without rehab or methadone or any of that, somehow I got over it. I got off. I didn’t take drugs again and I changed into that man I become when she’s not with me. Without her, I don’t trust myself and that’s why I shy away from the world and hide. With her, I know I’m okay, I’m together. She keeps me together. She’s so good, I know when I’m with her, I only want to be good too. When I’m not with her, I feel afraid. My boy, she’s stronger than you’ll ever know. There are things about her I can’t tell you but she’s survived so much. If there are trials to face, she’ll face them and overcome them.”
He shudders and I take his hand, squeezing it. “Joe, you should have called the police that day.”
“I know,” he nods, “but I just worry about what will happen to her.”
“Jules says she has to hit rock bottom before she can get better.”
He shrugs. “She might be right.”
“We’ll deal with it when it happens because she’s going to ignore us until she really does need our help.”
Joe swallows. “I feel a bit better now. I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Night, son. I’m proud of you, you know?”
He stands. “I know.”
“Don’t tell Jules about the bed. That thing cost me three grand.”
He snickers. “Right you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jules
Monday morning
I’m in the office doing some training. William Barker is leading the induction session and seems different now he’s surrounded by a few women, not just me. He seems… totalitarian.
“So, I want to give you a situation and I would like you to write down a paragraph or so, telling me how you would cope with said situation.”
We all take out our pens and paper and the other girls, most of whom are young, look at me as if I’m going to ace this. The girl next to me, Sally, is already peeking over my shoulder. William Barker is a firm man and these girls all look scared witless of him.
“The situation is this. You have a client appointment at 10.45a.m. but your 10.15 overran because you arrived to discover the normally straightforward client wasn’t up or dressed and it is a requirement for them to be dressed before you leave the appointment. It’s also in your schedule to do any shopping you need to do for the 10.15 at the convenience store over the road from your 10.15. Not only is the 10.15 not dressed, she’s had an accident that will need clearing up. That is, the bed, her clothes, her and her bathroom. What would you do within the time constraints? Bearing in mind, the appointment should only be twenty minutes and it is a ten minute drive to your 10.45.”
I gulp. I have no shitting idea (ha ha!). How comical.
All the girls around me look strangely confident now while I remain nervous. Sally’s no longer peering over my shoulder but scribbling words down in a manic way. Was this same question in a textbook they’ve all studied, or something? Meanwhile, what do I write down? How did I get myself involved in this?
I take up my pen and think this through logically. Is twenty minutes long enough to wipe the woman’s bum, shower her, change her bed and dress her, then do her shopping and see if she wants any breakfast, too? Not likely.
I write:
Try my best to complete all tasks but if I overrun, perhaps phone the office and warn them I am late for my other client, see if they can’t warn the next client I am running late.
I have no idea if that’s right or wrong but that’s what I’ve written down.
“So girls, please read out your solutions to me.”
Three of the other girls state the same sort of thing as me. E.g. ask for help or ring the office and let them know the situation.
Sally next to me, however, says, “Well, if she’s made a mess then she’s probably sick or something, if she’s not normally found in such a state. I’d need to ask her a few questions to see what’s wrong with her, see if we don’t need to call a doctor out. It’d probably be better letting the office know this than calling her doctor myself?”
“Well done, Sally, you’re thinking outside the box about your duty of care…” He launches into a whole, sweeping speech about the fact that the 10.15 client could even die of dehydration if we’re not careful. I soon realise a care worker is in some ways, a glorified nurse.
We move onto other exercises and scenarios and most of us are told we’re wrong again, except Sally, who seems to have been something of a nurse in a former life going by her confidence and knowledge of medical care. So much for her looking over my shoulder! Maybe she just didn’t want any competition for Top Trainee Carer.
At the end of our morning session, I jump in my car and ready myself to go and pick up the boys. My first day wasn’t so bad, not really. Besides I’m only going to be doing it part-time, in the mornings.
Sally strides out of the building, wearing a pink fluffy jacket, toying with her purple-dyed hair. She seems familiar as I watch her but I toss it off, ignoring my misgivings. She walks down the street and no doubt to wherever it is she lives.
William Barker comes out of the building not long later and takes out a smoke, standing by the smoker’s shelter. After a few puffs he realises I’m watching him and stares at me. There’s nothing whatsoever in his stare but for some reason, I imagine he’s decided I’m going to fail this task. I’m out of my depth.
I pull away and drive home, breathing easy as I cross the bridge to the side I belong on. I feel immense relief the closer I get to home.
After picking up Harry and Charlie, I do some shopping. I’m meant to be taking them to an infant swimming session this afternoon but today I can’t be bothered and Kitty said they refused to nap this morning which means they will be overtired if I take them.
Walking in through the front door, I’m sure I’m hearing things when I hear a woman’s moans.
What the hell is going on? Closing the front door behind me quietly, I lock myself and the twins inside without disturbing whoever it is having fun time upstairs. The twins are both nestled in their car seats, fast asleep on the wooden floors of our expansive hallway. Normally I wouldn’t leave them alone but it’s not cold and I feel there’s something bad going on.
Taking the stairs to investigate the noise, I stop outside Joe’s room and realise that’s where it’s coming from. I don’t know whether to be shocked or relieved.
Okay, so how do I do this? Burst in and shock him out of this behaviour or wait until they come out? As I hear more moans, I realise he should be in school. He shouldn’t even be having sex. He’s fifteen.
I knock and hear a shocked gasp behind the door. “Who’s in there? Can you both come out, please?”
Joe opens the door with his duvet wrapped around his waist, his face red and sweaty. “It’s just me in here. I came home sick.”
I peer over his shoulder and shake my head. I can’t see anyone else in there but I assert, “I don’t believe you.” Barging past him, I charge into his darkened room, where the curtains are shut.
Searching high and low, I find nobody else, except then I remember this room is en suite. Pushing
open the bathroom door, I find a naked girl wrapped in a towel. It’s not Shana, either. I’ve seen Shana and she looks sensible and intelligent whereas this little scruffy thing with inches of make-up looks desperate.
I stare at the young slip of a thing. She looks mortified. “Joe said nobody would be in.”
“I bet he did. You’d better get dressed and get out before I call my husband. You’ve never seen my husband angry and believe me, you don’t want to.”
The girl dashes into Joe’s bedroom for her clothes, scooping them up in her arms. She charges back into the bathroom to dress and I watch Joe as she quickly makes her getaway.
“Sorry Mrs Jones!”
I hear the front door slam downstairs and peer over the galleried landing, checking the twins are still there on the floor. They are, and the front door latch has locked behind the little blonde who only just escaped this house with her life.
“Kitchen. Now. Preferably dressed,” I demand.
I walk down and put the kettle on, leaving the twins where they are. They’re fine and like me, they will be grumpy if they don’t get enough sleep.
Soon enough, Joe emerges into the kitchen looking sheepish. “Sorry.”
I shake my head, “Sorry? Ha! Sorry? You think that covers this?”
He sits himself at the kitchen table and hides his face behind his hands.
“Do you know how much trouble you would be in if I told your father? He would kick you from here to kingdom come. You’re underage and skipping class!”
“I’m only skipping media, it’s no big deal. They won’t even notice I’m not there.”
I stare at him, seriously pissed off, my cheeks flaming with rage. “How can you sit there and defend yourself? That’s worse than what you’ve just done. Joe, just admit, you made a mistake. Saying sorry isn’t enough.”
He shrugs. “Everyone else is doing it.”
“Fucking, or slacking off?”
He looks up into my eyes and smirks. “Both.”
I lash out so fast and without thinking, both of us are shocked afterwards. He sits dumbfounded as I watch the red indent of my hand rise to the surface of his skin.
“Dad said you were strong but I didn’t believe him. You look delicate. Way to go, Jules. Now I feel much better.”
A single tear slides down his red cheek and he hardly moves a muscle, shocked by my reaction .
“Were you careful? Did you use a condom?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t get defensive with me, Joe. This is how the slope starts into misery. You tell yourself it’s okay to make a mistake and then as the mistakes get worse, you find ways of justifying those too. A missed class here turns into a lost GCSE and a few shags in the afternoon can easily turn into a baby and your lost childhood, do you understand me? I’ve sat on the bus plenty of times and listened to teenage girls sat behind me whose only ambition is to get pregnant and get a council house. Don’t you see that some girls will only use you, Joe? Don’t you see that? You think you’re using them, but they’re using you too. Don’t you see it? What a catch you’d be.”
“Yes, miss,” he tells me, so much sarcasm in his raised shoulders and voice.
“If this ever happens again, I will ground you for the rest of your school life, do you understand me? This stays between us. If Warrick finds out, he won’t just ground you, he will beat the living shit out of you for doing this during the day, in our house. This isn’t just a doss house, Joe. This is our home, the home I want to feel safe inside, the home I am going to bring your brothers up in.”
“Sorry for bringing sin into your perfect little home,” he seethes, looking away. I sense some reference to Anna in there, but ignore it. She might live like this, but we don’t. I’m shaking so much, I can’t put my cup of tea to my lips.
I put a cup in front of him even though he’s pissed me right off. Most of it spills on the table. The thing that’s pissed me off most is that he isn’t the young man I thought he was. He’s obviously struggling in ways he can’t admit.
“You should have waited until you found someone to love, not taken the first girl to drop her knickers. Sex should be special Joe, between two people who love one another.”
He sniffs. “Whatever.”
“Next year is your last at school. The most important year of your life. Tell me I don’t have to worry about you, Joe. Tell me.”
“Course not. Course.”
He stands from the table, leaving his tea untouched, and chases up the stairs. Five minutes later, I see him leave the house in his running gear. He slams the door so hard, he wakes the twins.
Great.
I see to the boys, feeding them lunch, all the while trying to calm myself down. Joe does look older than he is and he’s been forced to grow up very quickly by his parent’s separation and Anna’s second divorce, not to mention her ways, but he knows he’s done wrong and what hurts is that he looked at me like he didn’t care anymore.
I vow not to tell Warrick because he will go spare and blame himself. I have to try and get through to Joe and make him see he’s disrespected not only our home, but himself too.
Feeling absolutely wretched by the time Warrick arrives home, I tell him the job’s not so great and it’s why I’m feeling a bit shabby. He buys it and I try to put Joe’s indiscretion out of my mind for the time being.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jules
It doesn’t feel like we’ve had enough training and yet, I’m now doing rounds with my buddy, Lilah, who seems to have been a carer for years. We’re in her car, driving to the first client we have today. I left the house at 5.45a.m. which means Rick has to take the twins to Kitty’s and I just hope he manages to get them fed, washed and dressed okay. I feel so bad because he still has a few weeks left to work, but I hope he’s going to be okay and makes it to work on time.
There’s something so reassuring about Lilah. Her greying red hair’s in a big bun and she seems so magically calm. We all wear lime-green nurse’s tunics but we may have to don a plastic tabard if we find ourselves tasked with a big clean-up. I won’t always work with a partner but as I get to grips with everything, Lilah is going to help show me the ropes.
“I can tell you’re not really meant for this,” she says as we drive down a country road, heading for a small village where our first call of the day is. We navigate a narrow driveway up to a house on a steep hill and given it’s a warm, summer’s morning, dew is rising so quickly, the Gothic house seems to sit in another sort of dimension, mist surrounding it.
“What do you mean?” I feel a little taken aback, not much, but enough to feel disgruntled.
“You’re meant for bigger things, maybe?”
The building’s window boxes are full of geraniums and two baskets of cascading chrysanthemums sit each side of the red front door, bulging with pink blooms. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the house this early and it feels great to see the day come alive, to witness the sun bringing light and life to the world, the weariness of being up so early shed by such a beautiful dawn.
As she’s parking the car in the drive, carefully slotting it into place, I reply, “I’m doing this for someone. It’s a little mission of mine. I want to give something back,” I tell Lilah, and she smiles warmly.
“Come on then.”
Lilah walks up to the front door and I follow. She enters a code into a key safe on the wall and takes out a set of keys, letting us into the property. She places the keys on a sideboard in the Victorian hallway and as I close the door behind us, she taps a code into an alarm system that’s beeping.
“Don’t look so worried, we’re easing you in this morning sugar plum.”
“Sorry, I’m just a bit… I don’t know.” I rub my hands together, something I never do, and they’re not even cold.
“Ingrid, Thora, we’re here,” Lilah calls in her middle-aged voice, and we hear whispers from upstairs, two people noting our arrival.
We climb the old stai
rcase, clinging to the wide mahogany banister to pull us up at this ungodly hour. It’s barely 6.30.
In two single beds, identical twins Thora and Ingrid are already awake. They look like they have been waiting for us.
“A new helper?” one of them asks. “I’m Ingrid.”
“I’m Thora,” the other says.
“I’m Julianne. Call me Jules.”
“What a lovely name,” Thora says, and I notice Thora has more liver spots than Ingrid. They notice me examining their faces and Ingrid smiles, knowing I’ve already worked out a way to tell them apart.
“How are we this morning ladies?” Lilah asks and I take her cue, watching what she does.
“Very creaky but perfectly capable, as always,” Ingrid replies.
Lilah undresses Ingrid’s bed to help her out.
I turn to Thora and ask, “Some help getting out today? It’s beautiful out there.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
I pull down her bedcovers and she uses the controls on her bed to lift up and almost pour herself out of bed. She smiles. “We don’t really need any help but our sons insist on it.”
“Oh, you were both married then?”
“I was,” Thora winks, “but naughty Ingrid wasn’t. My husband died in the war and her boyfriend ran off. We inherited this house from our parents and brought up our boys here. They’re old enough to be your granddad, dear.”
I laugh lightly and Thora asks, “Zimmer frame, dear. You’ll catch up.”
I watch Lilah, who’s already walking Ingrid to the door with her Zimmer frame. It’s like watching everything in double. I hover around Thora, overseeing her journey to the bathroom I am assuming.
We reach the bedroom doorway and she asks, “Dressing gown, dear. Mine’s the red one.”
I reach on the back of the door and help her on with it. At the top of the stairs outside, she tells me, “I’ll go down on the stair lift. Meet you down there. Her toilet’s up here, mine’s down there.”
Beyond Angel Avenue Page 19
