A Place of Hope

by Anna Jacobs

  He let her know when Sister was off to her lunch, then Emily paced three sides of the square of corridor that ran round their floor. She saw no one moving about, because they put the patients to bed for a nap at that time. Some of the patients clearly had dementia. Why was she still in a geriatric rehabilitation unit? Surely they had a bed free now in the proper rehab unit?

  She stopped in the doorway of the day room to chat to Chad. He was looking depressed. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘I felt as if I was remembering something, then it slipped away. I can’t even remember my surname, only that it’s not Chadderton. Chad must be short for something, though.’ He gave her a sad smile and a half-shrug. ‘You’re doing better with the walking.’

  ‘Don’t tell anyone I’m moving about. I’m not supposed to walk round on my own. But how can I get stronger without exercise?’

  ‘I won’t say a word. Who would I talk to? They’re all afraid of Sister Hitler.’ He covered his mouth, his eyes dancing with laughter now.

  ‘I don’t have to ask who you mean by that! How are you getting on?’

  ‘They’re still saying I’m never going to walk properly again, let alone run, but I won’t accept that.’ He glanced quickly round. ‘Don’t tell anyone, not even Jackson, how much better you’re feeling. They might . . . give you some happy pills.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ve worked out that something is wrong here. We have to escape.’

  ‘We need to work on our strength and endurance if we’re to do that. Only . . . where am I going to go? I don’t have any money or ID. Whoever attacked me cleaned out my pockets.’

  ‘We’ll think about that when we get out.’

  ‘Yes. Who’s the bossy young guy visiting you?’

  ‘My nephew.’ She scowled at the mere thought of George.

  ‘Don’t trust him. He’s in cahoots with dear Sister Pauline about something. I’ve seen him pass her an envelope.’

  ‘What?’

  He put one finger to his lips. ‘I’m getting very good at faking a doze.’

  ‘George passed her an envelope?’

  ‘Yes. I saw it reflected in the glass doors. She was in a hurry to attend the heads of wards meeting, or she’d have gone into her office to take it, I’m sure. She didn’t open it, but put it straight into her pocket, so she must have known what was in it.’

  George was definitely up to something, Emily thought angrily. He’d always been sneaky.

  She began to work even harder at the exercises. Chad was right. Something was very wrong here. And it wasn’t too fanciful that they’d need to escape, because no one would give her a date for being discharged and they were talking about care homes now.

  How could this be happening in the twenty-first century? She’d heard of occasional health facilities that weren’t performing well, or ones where someone was abusing elderly patients, but had never expected to be trapped in a place like that herself.

  ‘You’d think people would want me to get better as quickly as possible to free up a bed,’ she fumed to Jackson after another nurse had warned her not to overdo things.

  ‘Pauline’s terrified of pushing patients too hard. She’ll do anything to avoid having an incident that needs investigating – she had one before, you see, and it put a stop to her efforts to get a promotion. But if you quote me on that, I’ll deny telling you. And having the dementia patients here gives her an excuse to keep the outer doors locked. All visitors have to report to reception downstairs first, so she gets warning of who’s coming up. She does so like to be in complete charge.’

  He scowled in the direction of Sister’s office, his expression showing how he really felt about her.

  Emily was quite sure her own dislike more than matched his.

  When Jackson had left and all was quiet, Chad pushed his blanket aside and stood up. ‘Time for my next exercise session,’ he whispered to Emily, who was sitting in her wheelchair next to his.

  He walked round the day room then began to move up and down the corridor.

  She joined him, able to move faster than he could, but matching her pace to his so as not to emphasize this.

  Once they’d both had enough, they sat and chatted. Chad might not be able to remember who he was, but he could remember films, books, things he liked doing, so they always seemed to have something to say. He was into antiques and seemed to know a lot about them. So was she.

  It was such a comfort to have him there. In other circumstances, she’d have hoped he’d become a good friend. Possibly more.

  In the present circumstances, neither of them knew what the future might hold. Either of them might be dragged away without a moment’s notice.

  They had to escape. And soon.

  She didn’t want to lose her chance of help in escaping, and, to her surprise, she didn’t want to lose Chad, either. She didn’t know whether anything might come of their friendship, and it was certainly the strangest way to make a friend . . . but she really did like him.

  ‘I shall come and visit you twice a week from now on,’ George declared on his next visit. ‘Tuesdays and Fridays.’

  ‘Then you can bring my mail.’

  ‘Auntie dear, you’re not ready for any hassles. I can deal with the mail for you. And anyway, there haven’t been any personal letters, only bills and circulars. Marcia and I will be paying the gas and electricity bills as our contribution for use of your house.’

  ‘They’re on automatic deduction.’

  ‘Then when you come home, you must let us have a bill for what we’ve cost you.’

  ‘What about my emails, then? You could bring in my laptop. If I can go down to the public areas here, I can get on line.’

  ‘Too upsetting yet to let you leave the rehab unit. They want to keep you calm, in order to maintain progress. Why, you can’t even walk properly yet. If you’ll give me your computer password, I’ll check your emails for you.’

  ‘No, thank you. They’re private.’

  He shrugged.

  When she complained about him refusing to bring her mail in, Pauline stared at her as if she was stupid. ‘What do you think I can do about that? You should be grateful to your nephew for his help. Of course he’s dealing with your mail. You can’t do it, after all. Some of our patients have no one to care for their homes and possessions. You’re one of the lucky ones.’

  Emily told Chad what was going on and he shook his head.

  ‘You aren’t going to win with those two.’

  ‘I hate the thought of George opening my mail, but you’re probably right.’

  ‘Let’s step up the exercising, and do more at night.’

  ‘Good idea. I can’t sleep because I’m not really tired.’ And because she was worrying and feeling trapped. If only she could get in touch with her former boss, Leon. He’d have her out of here in a trice.

  Come to think of it, why hadn’t he been in contact, asking if she was all right? She could guess why. They’d told him she had come out of the coma with mental impairment.

  Dare she invite him to come and visit her once they escaped? She’d have to think about that. But she did trust him. And like him.

  So why not?

  The next time her nephew visited, Emily couldn’t face seeing him and pretended to be dozing in her wheelchair in the day room. Chad was away being supervised in having a shower.

  George stood in the doorway with Pauline. ‘My poor aunt doesn’t always make sense when I talk to her. I fear the dementia is progressing.’

  Through her fractionally open eyes, Emily saw him slip an envelope to the sister.

  ‘Perhaps you should apply for a power of attorney over her affairs,’ Sister said. ‘We at the unit can’t always tell if your aunt’s being accurate when she speaks about her former life. Did you say dementia runs in the family?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  Liar! thought Emily, digging her fingernails into the palm of one hand to stop herself shouting out at him. It was exactly the opposite. M
any of her ancestors on either side had lived past ninety, enjoying their old age as they’d enjoyed the rest of their lives.

  Her sister was one of the exceptions. Liz now had to live quietly. Though that life was quieter than it need be, Emily was sure, because of her lack of money.

  Emily was beginning to feel more like her old self but still lacked her usual strength and stamina. She’d rarely had a day’s illness in her life and had always tried to keep herself fit, without going overboard. This was her first stay in hospital and she prayed fervently that it would be her last.

  She was sure she’d have recovered far more rapidly if they’d let her go home. She could easily have afforded to get help around the house and Rachel would be next door.

  Of course, George and Marcia would have to move out then. No wonder he was keeping her here!

  How could she let her friend know she wanted to see her, and needed help escaping? Even Jackson said it was as much as his job was worth to pass on a message.

  The only solution Emily could see was to leave the unit without permission and somehow get home under her own steam, then get Rachel to help her. She could deal with any trouble from a position of more strength, or she would be able to if she got George out of her house and found a lawyer to help her.

  There had to be a way to escape.

  The day following George’s visit, Emily had a serious talk with Chad about escaping.

  ‘I’ve racked my brain how to do it,’ he admitted. ‘The trouble is we’ll need some money.’

  She glanced around and leaned even closer. ‘I have some.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. Sewn into the lining of my handbag. George may have taken my purse and credit card but he doesn’t know about this.’

  ‘Do you always do that?’

  ‘Definitely. I travelled round Europe quite a bit and was mugged once. My purse and credit card were stolen. Such a nuisance getting that sorted out! Afterwards, I always made sure I had money elsewhere among my belongings.’ She didn’t tell Chad that although she kept one credit card in her purse, and of course George had that now, she also had a second one hidden at home.

  ‘You’re sure the money is still in your bag?’

  ‘Trust me. The stitching hasn’t been touched and I recognize my own handiwork. I won’t unpick it till we’re ready to go. I think there will be enough to get a taxi back home again. I’ll go straight to Rachel’s and she’ll help me find a lawyer.’

  She looked at him. ‘Um . . . would you like to stay with me after we escape?’

  He looked at her very steadily. ‘You’re sure about that?’

  ‘Very sure.’

  He clasped her hand briefly. ‘Thank you. I’m grateful for your offer. One day I’ll make it up to you.’

  They sat smiling at one another.

  He looked at the clock. ‘They’ll be round with the tea soon. I’d better pretend to doze. I do that better than you. You read your book.’

  At least she could read properly now. Books were a life saver here, and even Pauline approved of the patients sitting quietly reading.

  Once the nurses had made their round, Chad opened his eyes again and grinned at her.

  She tried out her thoughts on him. ‘You know, we’re able to walk so much better, wouldn’t it be easier to show them how well we are, then take some tests or whatever you do to get out?’

  Chad was very definite. ‘Don’t say a word! Whatever you do, don’t tell them anything.’

  ‘But surely they’ll have to listen to me if they know I’m fully in control of myself again.’

  ‘Not necessarily. There’s something going on here and I don’t trust Sister Hitler. Who knows what she might inject you with to keep you quiet and dopey?’

  Emily sighed. ‘She isn’t the only person here.’

  ‘She’s the one in charge of this unit. We’d have to get past her and I don’t fancy our chances.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’

  ‘This isn’t the normal way the health system treats patients, for all its faults. And even here, we’ve been well cared for physically. No, she’s running some sort of scam and she won’t thank us for trying to upset a lucrative apple cart.’

  He reached out to give her hand a quick squeeze and the warmth of his smile was of immense comfort.

  They sent a different doctor in to speak to Emily the following day and it didn’t take her long to realize he was checking her mental capacity.

  ‘I don’t have dementia, you know,’ she said impatiently.

  ‘What made you say that?’

  ‘The sorts of questions you were asking me. I saw a programme on TV about it last year.’

  ‘And yet your nephew is worried because you’re getting your facts wrong.’

  ‘I’m not getting them wrong.’ She realized protesting wouldn’t prove anything. ‘George has been overseas for the past few years and doesn’t know me or my life very well at all. I’m still furious that he’s moved into my house. Look, can’t you—’

  ‘Your nephew is very fond of you and is only trying to help.’

  ‘He’s very fond of my possessions, you mean, and is hoping to inherit.’ She leaned back, tired of playing games. ‘I’m not answering any more of your questions. There’s no need. I want to contact my former employer, please.’

  ‘He’s not your employer now.’

  ‘I know that. I took early retirement. But he’s a close friend.’

  ‘You want to contact him for medical reasons?’

  She looked at him in astonishment. ‘Not at all. For help in sorting out my life. He knows me far better than George does. So does my next door neighbour who is my closest friend. I’m not answering any more of your questions till either Leon or Rachel comes to see me.’

  ‘Sister says your friend is away from home. You keep forgetting that, apparently. And I don’t think this is something a former employer will want to deal with.’

  ‘Someone could ask him! Leon has been a close friend for years.’

  His expression said he didn’t believe her. What had George been saying, for heaven’s sake?

  When Jackson came in later, he scolded her. ‘You’d have done better to co-operate, you know.’

  ‘That man was asking me totally stupid questions, like what day of the week it is.’

  ‘And you gave him the wrong day.’

  ‘I didn’t!’

  ‘You did.’

  She’d been so sure of that, because Sister Pauline had corrected her about what day of the week it was only that morning. Had that woman been setting her up for the interview, trying to put her in the wrong? ‘Well, it’s hard to keep track of the days in here with nothing happening. Look, now that I can read again, can I order a newspaper to be delivered?’

  ‘You can get one sent up from the shop if your nephew will pay for it.’

  Fat chance there was of that. George wouldn’t even give her spending money.

  Jackson hesitated then said quietly, ‘I’m going on leave next week. Someone else will be taking my place. Tracey’s a bit of a stickler for the rules, so don’t tell her about the extra exercises or your night-time chats with Chad, hmm?’

  ‘How long are you going for?’

  ‘Three weeks.’

  That settled it. They would have to escape before then. ‘Which day is your last?’ She kept her voice low, remembering how clearly she’d overheard George one day.

  ‘Friday of next week.’

  A sharp voice interrupted them. ‘Excuse me, Jackson, but you have another patient waiting.’

  ‘Sorry. See you later, Emily. You did very well today.’ He walked away.

  ‘The staff are not here to gossip,’ Pauline told her severely. ‘We’re short-handed and struggling to cope. How would you like it if you had no help in getting washed because someone was wasting staff time by gossiping?’

  Emily didn’t argue that she was taking full care of herself now. What was the use?

  On t
heir next walk round the unit at night, she and Chad saw a mobile phone lying on the ground in a corner underneath some of the nurses’ outer clothing. Usually coats and shopping bags were locked in the cupboard, to which only Pauline had a key, but someone must be wanting to get away quickly.

  They looked at one another, then he picked it up. ‘Our need is greater than theirs.’ He passed it to her. ‘I have no one I can call, but you do. Be careful when you use this.’

  She ought to have handed it in, didn’t like to steal anything, but he was right. Her need was too great to waste what might be her only opportunity. She slipped the phone into the pocket of her dressing gown then hid it at the back of her bedside drawer, for lack of anywhere better.

  When one of the staff came to take her obs the following morning, she said firmly, ‘I’d like the rest of my day clothes back, please. I don’t like being told what to wear. They gave me someone else’s clothes the other day.’

  ‘They can’t have done.’ The nurse’s voice grew gentle. ‘You’d probably forgotten they were yours.’

  Emily stared at her in shock. ‘Of course I hadn’t!’

  Sister popped in later. ‘Why do you say we gave you someone else’s clothes?’

  ‘Because you did.’

  ‘Miss Mattison, we did not. We are scrupulously careful about our patients’ possessions.’

  ‘Ms Mattison.’

  But Pauline wasn’t listening, was already walking away.

  Emily told Chad about the incident later.

  ‘Next time, don’t say anything. You’re only giving them fodder to prove you’re developing dementia.’

  ‘I’m not good at being deceitful, at thinking about the impact of every word I say.’

  ‘No. It’s one of the many things I like about you.’

  She looked at him, swallowing hard. ‘I can’t believe this is happening. Sometimes I think it’s a nightmare and I’ll wake up suddenly.’

  ‘Well, whatever they do, don’t protest from now on. They’ll only blame it on your supposed dementia.’