The Paradise Trees (8 page)

Staggering around in haste, Alicia grabbed some clothes, anything at all would do in the meantime. Of all the days to sleep in. Now she had little more than an hour to get Jen organised for her
trip, as well as get her father up, dressed and fed before Eva Campbell from next door came to sit with him. Tears welled up in her eyes as she scraped her hair back into one of Jenny’s
scrunchies. She was just so tired. Her father was sleeping a bit better with the new pills but even one nocturnal excursion to his room left her half-dead the next day. The whole situation made her
skin crawl, how she loathed being with him in the bedroom that reeked of old man. It was horrible, going in there at night, when it was dark and nobody else was awake... The nausea she’d
experienced twice hadn’t returned, though, and neither had the young voice warning her about ‘the bad room’. Still, the sooner she could get him safely into St. Joe’s the
happier she would be.

She pushed her father’s bedroom door open and knew straightaway that she was in for a bad run. Again. The new pills maybe helped him sleep, but they had the unfortunate side effect of
making him doubly incontinent. Determinedly closing her mind to the horrible thing she was doing, Alicia helped the old man out of bed and into the shower. As a nurse she’d dealt with plenty
of similar situations, but somehow it was a lot less bearable when it was your own father. Your own father who you didn’t love as a daughter was supposed to... but he hadn’t loved her
either.

She took him downstairs and then raced back up to deal with the bed and open all the windows. When at last she was sitting at the breakfast table with a slice of toast in front of her and the
washing machine sloshing the bed linen around, Alicia just felt sick. It was tempting to start ranting to Margaret about St. Joe’s being better equipped to deal with incontinent geriatrics,
but then her aunt would only say that if he hadn’t taken the sleeping pills in the first place they wouldn’t have that particular problem, which of course was entirely correct. There
was no point in arguing.

To her relief, Margaret took her tea upstairs to see to her bags. Alicia rubbed her face, aware that Jenny was staring at her.

‘Mummy, you look funny.’ Jenny’s brow creased in a worried little frown.

‘Thank you, darling, but I don’t feel in the least funny. Oh, I’m sorry, Jen, I’m tired because Grandpa wakes up in the night and needs me, that’s all. It’s
nothing for you to worry about.’

Jenny nodded, pushing her chair back and tossing her last bite of toast in the air for Conker to catch. Alicia glanced at her watch. Eva would be here in twenty minutes. No-one else knew about
her visit to St. Joe’s. Alicia meant to make her own mind up, then talk to Frank and Margaret. She had phoned David the previous day and he’d promised to try to persuade his mother that
the hospital wasn’t some kind of medieval torture chamber. But with or without Margaret’s approval, Alicia knew she would have to make other arrangements for her father before the end
of the summer. Things couldn’t go on like this.

‘Mummy, I’ve got a secret,’ said Jenny, turning from the kitchen window where she’d been staring up to the woods.

‘Have you, darling? Is it a nice one?’ Alicia smiled as she carried the plates over to the sink.

Jenny smiled back, her face dreamy, then hesitated. ‘Um yes, I think so,’ she said vaguely, and Alicia looked at her. At that moment the phone rang, and Jenny ran to answer it.

‘Daddy!’

Alicia strode out to the hallway and took the receiver from Jenny. Her ex certainly had timing, she thought dismally.

‘What is it, Paul?’

‘Dear me, Alicia, how very abrupt you are, someone get out of the wrong side of the bed? I wanted a chat with Jen, to tell her about her new mum and about her visit to Singapore in the
autumn.’

‘Jenny is not going to Singapore, Paul,’ said Alicia, hot fury rising in her gut. ‘Not for a visit and definitely not to stay.’

‘We’ll see. I’m putting my lawyer onto it,’ said Paul, and she could hear the sneer in his voice. ‘See you in court, Alicia.’

Alicia banged the phone down, and turned to see Jenny staring up at her with huge, frightened eyes.

‘Oh, Jen darling,’ she began, and Jenny ran into her arms.

‘I don’t want to go to Singapore without you,’ she whispered, and Alicia hugged her, determination flooding through her as Jenny held on tightly. Of course Paul wouldn’t
get custody. Most likely he didn’t even want it, he was just being mean, trying to make her life miserable, and he was probably enjoying it, too. But she was stronger than that, wasn’t
she? Of course she was.

With a great effort she jollied her daughter back into something resembling good humour, then accompanied the travellers to the bus stop and stood waving as the bus jerked towards the village
shop. Right. So far, so good. Sort of.

Eva Campbell joined her at the garden gate, knitting in hand.

‘On you go, dear, Bob’ll be fine with me for an hour or two,’ she said, accompanying Alicia inside where the old man was standing at the living room window, hugging his cloth
cap to his chest very much as a child might hug a teddy bear.

‘Thanks, Eva. I won’t be long. Make yourself a coffee, you know where everything is, and my, um, Bob would probably enjoy a digestive too.’

Alicia ran upstairs and pulled on black linen trousers and a pale green blouse. No point going to St. Joe’s looking like someone’s poor relation, she thought, applying blusher to her
cheekbones. A squirt of perfume and she was almost a new woman.

Alicia stared into the mirror, remembering the touch of Douglas Patton’s hand on her own, and the compassion in his eyes. Could he be interested in her? It was years since she’d had
anything approaching a serious relationship, but somehow it was easy to picture herself with him. Grinning, she grabbed her bag.

Don’t go into the bad room
.

This time the child’s voice could almost have been real. Alicia stopped dead, level with her father’s bedroom. Dear God,
what
had gone on in there? Had they left her in the
darkness of her father’s bedroom as a punishment? Or had it been more than that?

She stood there thinking. He might have abused her. Maybe not rape but he might well have undressed her, whipped her. Or
had
it been sexual abuse of some kind? In the name of religion?
Surely not, and shit, she didn’t have time to think about this right now and she didn’t want to, either. Time to put the memories – if that was what they were – away. She
would mull it all over later.

The phone rang again as she was running downstairs, and for a moment Alicia toyed with the idea of leaving it. Better not, she decided, jumping down the last two steps and grabbing the receiver.
If it was Paul again she’d well and truly scare him off. She didn’t want him bothering Eva.

For a moment she couldn’t place the rather high-pitched male voice, then she realised. It was the pet shop owner.

‘Hello again, Mrs Bryson. Just to say the little cat’s quite well again, and I haven’t found anyone who’s lost him. He’s not chipped, either. Do you still want
him?’

Alicia hesitated and then remembered Jenny’s eyes as she’d stroked the kitten. After all, other cats lived in small flats and seemed to thrive quite well. And in a few weeks Jenny
would be leaving Conker behind in Lower Banford, so a little cat to take home with her would ease that pain quite considerably.

‘I think so, yes. Shall we come and get him? Jenny’s away all day unfortunately, would this evening be okay? Around seven?’

‘That would be perfect. I live above the shop, just come in and shout. See you both tonight.’

Wondering if she had done the wisest thing, Alicia drove to the care home, consciously relaxing her shoulders. It was wonderful to be by herself for a while, away from her father and all his
problems. It wasn’t exactly me-time because she was still doing something connected to the old man, but at least she was getting out of the house for a bit.

St. Joe’s looked exactly the same as it had done on Saturday when she’d been here with Frank. The same sunshine, the same old people sitting out in the same wheelchairs beside the
same rose bushes. The fate of the aged, she thought, pulling up in the visitors’ car park in front of the house. Every day was pretty much a carbon copy of the one before.

The front door was propped open, and Alicia walked into a wide hallway where two leather sofas were placed along cream walls with flowery prints hanging at various levels. It didn’t look
like your usual NHS place, she should find out if any costs were involved here before committing herself to anything. No way could they afford a private home. Right at the back was a desk with a
bell on it, but before she reached it, Douglas Patton ran down the stairway and strode towards her, hand outstretched.

‘Hello, Mrs Bryson - can I call you Alicia? You know I’m Doug.’

His huge warm hand gripped hers, and Alicia realised that her heart rate had increased. He was obviously delighted to see her, towering over her with a big grin on his face. It was difficult not
to feel like ‘the little woman’ beside him. A lovely flutter of excitement ran through her. She smiled, and regained possession of her hand. It wouldn’t do to seem too keen.

‘Sure. Well, here I am, and feeling a bit nervous. It’s a big decision.’

Doug chatted reassuringly about life at the care home as he led her upstairs and round the admissions ward, seeming to understand exactly what she needed to know.

And really, the whole place seemed ideal. Alicia stood looking round the dayroom where some old people were watching cricket on TV. It was clean and bright, it didn’t smell too antiseptic
and there was no school-dinner cabbage smell either. The nurses looked cheerful, and it
was
NHS. So maybe something, at last, was going to work out well for her this summer. There was
nothing here that Margaret could possibly object to.

‘Isn’t that Mr French?’ she asked, looking at a shrunken old man sitting at the end of the corridor picking a hole in his cardigan.

‘Yes, do you know him?’

Alicia smiled rather sadly. Harry French had been caretaker of her secondary school. He could always be depended on to retrieve tennis balls from the roof and he’d kept an eye on the
playground games too, in case the footie got too rough. It was sad seeing him here like this, no longer his old vital self.

Doug chuckled. ‘He doesn’t look it, but he’s a bit of a tearaway. His grandsons bring him cans of lager and officially he’s allowed one a day. The problem is he has an
illicit stash that we’re not supposed to know about. Keeps him happy and we try to make sure that he doesn’t have more than two a day. We don’t always succeed. And the old chap
over there’s just as bad. Jim Slater. He’s forever getting the ladies fighting over something or other. Real characters, both of them.’

Alicia laughed. Jim Slater had been the butcher in Lower Banford, he’d been a real ladies’ man in those days too. Her father had disapproved, of course, and poor Mum always had to
bike to Middle Banford for meat. It was nice in a way to know that the old people were still able to do their own thing here at St. Joe’s.

Doug took her arm, and her heart rate doubled immediately.

‘Come and meet Derek Thorpe, he’s the charge nurse in this ward. Derek!’

Derek Thorpe was emerging from a side room further up the ward. He came over, hand outstretched much as Doug’s had been and Alicia wondered in amusement if it was some kind of hospital
policy.

‘Sorry, my hands are like lumps of ice,’ said Derek, grinning ruefully. ‘I’ve been rearranging the meds freezer, but don’t worry, I’ll heat them up before I
touch any of the patients. Frank Carter told me about your father the other day. Must be really difficult for you.’ He gave her hand a cold squeeze with both of his, his face serious now.

‘Well, it is a bit,’ said Alicia, surprised. A lot of people had commiserated about her situation but somehow Derek’s sympathy seemed more personal. She hadn’t said a
word to Frank about how much she was hating being here but Derek had obviously seen something of her unhappiness. His next words confirmed this.

‘It’s hell, isn’t it, the whole dependent parent needing care thing,’ he said, lowering his voice as two of the patients walked past, zimmer frames clicking on the
polished floor. ‘Your father’s place isn’t too far from my flat, so if you ever needed help just give me a call. What do you think of St. Joe’s so far?’

Alicia chatted for a few more minutes before Derek was called away. He grinned cheerfully as he said goodbye and Alicia smiled back. What a happy, down-to-earth personality he had, and he was
kind, too. He didn’t ignore the problems, and that was exactly what was needed in a geriatric hospital.

‘Derek’s one of the best nurses I’ve ever met,’ said Doug, steering her back to the ward doors. ‘He’s a real charmer, too, the old folks all love
him.’

‘I can imagine,’ said Alicia. Gales of aged laughter were coming from the room Derek had just entered.

‘Would you like to have a coffee and a chat in my office?’ said Doug, sounding hopeful.

Alicia glanced at her watch. ‘I would, but I’d better not. Mrs Campbell from next door is sitting with my father, so I can’t be away too long. Thanks very much, Doug.
It’s been a really helpful visit.’

He smiled at her, his brown eyes shining. ‘My pleasure. And let me know if you have any questions.’

Alicia smiled back. ‘Thanks. What a lovely boss you must be. No wonder your staff seem so happy here.’

He laughed. ‘Oh, I’m still the new boy in town. Only been here four months. It’s working out well, though.’

‘I can see that. Okay, I’ll be in touch.’

‘Good. And Alicia, let’s make a point of having that coffee another time, shall we?’

She felt herself blush. ‘I’d like that.’

This is what walking on air feels like, she thought, returning to the car. It was ages since a man had asked her out. Well, maybe her luck was about to change.

She arrived home to find her father asleep in his chair and Eva just finishing her second sleeve.