‘How did you get my phone number?’ Rachel Roberts was disconcerted and more than a little angry to hear the voice of her mother’s friend, Brenda Chapman, on the phone. She was a woman whom Rachel despised.
‘Alice gave it to me for emergencies. She wasn’t sure what the signal would be like in Melkinthorpe and thought I should have your number until the landline was connected, just in case.’
‘In case of what, exactly?’
‘A situation such as this, I suppose. I haven’t been able to get hold of Alice and was getting worried. Is having your number really such a big deal?’
‘She shouldn’t have given it to you; Mum knows I value my privacy.’
‘As we all do, but if you’d be kind enough to tell me why I can’t reach Alice, I’ll not trouble you again… and be assured that I won’t pass your number on to anyone else!’
‘Good. You can’t reach my mother because she’s in a care home. She’s recently suffered a severe mental breakdown and isn’t in the best of health.’
Brenda gasped, ‘But what brought this on?’
‘Dad suffered a stroke from which he’s not expected to recover and Mum can’t seem to cope.’
‘No, surely! Your dad’s always been so strong and active. I can’t believe this has happened.’
‘Well it has, so there’s no point in trying to visit. The care home is adamant that Mum needs complete rest and they discourage visitors. Dad’s receiving palliative care and is unconscious, in a vegetative state, so visiting him is pointless.’
‘Oh, Rachel I’m so sorry but perhaps Alice will benefit from seeing an old friend. We’ve always been so close.’
‘No, that’s not possible, the care home’s policy is rigid and only close family can visit.’
‘But surely as there’s only you…’
‘No, Brenda. Why would you want to see her in that state anyway? If she was lucid, I’m sure she’d not want to be seen the way she is, to be gawped at like some kind of sideshow.’
‘So, she’s not aware of her situation?’
‘No. Mum’s lost touch with reality completely which is probably for the best as Dad won’t last much longer. I really must insist that you stay away, any outside interference will not be welcomed.’
‘I’m concerned, Rachel. That’s hardly interference. Will you at least keep me informed on your mother’s progress, and Tom’s too?’
‘Yes, I can do that but I’m not anticipating Mum’s condition to change. The doctors expect her to be in The Elms for some considerable time, perhaps even permanently. Now I really must go, I’m very busy.’ Rachel ended the call abruptly.
* * *
Brenda was decidedly uncomfortable and more than a little sad after such an awkward conversation. It appeared that tragedy had once again struck Alice and her family, and Rachel’s attitude was totally indifferent, with her manner bordering on obstructive. Yet the more Brenda reflected on their conversation, the angrier she became.
Although the daughter of one of her closest friends, Brenda had never taken to Rachel. As a child, she was cold and aloof, possessing one of the most glacial stares Brenda had ever come across in one so young. Rachel was capable of looking straight through you, with utter disdain, as if you were inconsequential. Even now, speaking to her on the phone, her words came over as cool and dispassionate, as if talking about strangers rather than relating her own parents’ tragic misfortunes. The girl had all but accused Brenda of having a morbid curiosity. She shuddered at the thought.
Over the years of their friendship, Alice had confided some of the child’s history with Brenda. What they knew of her background was sketchy and therefore some problems were to be anticipated. However, during the years the girl lived with Tom and Alice, Brenda witnessed much love and affection lavished upon Rachel that Brenda’s sympathy for the girl dwindled. In her opinion, she should be grateful for the upbringing and advantages which her adoptive parents so willingly provided, yet this was never so. Alice often confided how she struggled to maintain any kind of relationship with her daughter during those formative years, especially after Jenny died.
Brenda understood all too well how the tragedy of losing her sister would affect Rachel, but she also knew that such a loss, devastating though it may be, shouldn’t be allowed to define the rest of your life. Rachel was a grown woman. It was time to let go of her pain, or at least not to allow it to colour the rest of her life.
When Brenda’s son, Harry, had died, she’d thought she’d never recover, in fact, initially, she didn’t want to, but for the sake of her husband and their other two children and with Alice’s help, she came through that harrowing time and very slowly picked up the threads of life once more.
The mutual experience of grief formed the early basis of Alice and Brenda’s friendship, each finding in the other the confidante they needed. Though they were both married to good men, Tom’s work necessitated that he was away a great deal, and Ian simply wasn’t one to talk about his feelings. Realising her husband wouldn’t cope well with her angst as well as his own, Brenda largely remained silent about her feelings, battling against the often-overwhelming depression and only ever crying when she was alone. Therefore, friendship with Alice was a blessing and grew into a solid and lasting bond; until Alice and Tom decided to move to Penrith to be nearer to Rachel, or more accurately, nearer to Millie.
Brenda was aware of Alice’s constant worry about her grandchild, her deep concern for the child’s welfare, a little girl whom she didn’t see nearly as much as she would have wished. Retirement for her and Tom presented the opportunity to become more proactive in Millie’s care, or could do if Rachel would allow it.
Brenda remembered the time, six years earlier, when Rachel told her parents that she was pregnant. She’d asked Alice who the father was and if a wedding would be happening soon. Sadly, Alice admitted that her daughter refused to name the father. He was apparently no longer in the picture. The two friends then speculated about the pregnancy, with Brenda trying to cheer Alice, suggesting that Rachel might have used a sperm donor. After laughing at the thought, both women agreed that it could be the case. Rachel would most certainly want to be in control, to know the history, intelligence and physical appearance of any possible donor. Yes, it was feasible, but one thing they were sure about was that Rachel would probably never tell them.
Brenda held reservations about the move to Penrith, upon which her friends were determined to embark. It was a huge undertaking, especially knowing that their relationship with their daughter was anything but close. It would surprise her if Rachel would concede and allow them any kind of active role in Millie’s life. Still, Alice was determined, apparently unhappy about the childcare arrangements in place for her granddaughter.
This latest news devastated Brenda, but she was also experiencing anger. Anger on Alice’s behalf at the unfairness of life, surely this family had suffered enough over the years, but also anger towards Rachel. The young woman showed very little compassion for her parents’ plight, and her insistence that visitors would be more of a nuisance than a welcome distraction irritated her. Surely Alice at least might benefit from some outside stimulation and a familiar face?
Over the next few days, the conversation with Rachel sat heavily on Brenda’s heart and she wavered over what to do. Alice was one of the best friends she’d ever known and had been so kind to her in her time of need. If there was any way to ease the poor woman’s present situation, Brenda wished to do so. Rachel’s acceptance of her mother’s condition as permanent was also troubling. These events had occurred so rapidly that a definitive diagnosis seemed premature. Yes, Tom’s stroke would most certainly have come as a shock, but perhaps Alice’s reaction was only temporary.
Sadly, Brenda was uncertain that Rachel could be trusted to act in her mother’s best interests, so at the risk of being labelled ‘nosey’, she decided to visit Alice at The Elms without telling Rachel.
The drive to Penrith was not unpleasant, yet Brenda would have enjoyed it much more if her mind wasn’t full of concern for Alice and Tom. She intended to go directly to The Elms to assess the situation for herself and then contact Rachel to let her know that she was in Penrith and wished to visit Tom. Having travelled so far, she hoped that the care home staff would allow her to visit, at least for a short while.
Not being the most confident of drivers, Brenda was grateful for the sat nav into which she’d programmed the details of The Elms from her search on the internet. Eventually, turning into the small car park, she sighed audibly and gratefully stepped out into the warm sunshine to stretch her stiff limbs.
It appeared to be a pleasant enough place. Brenda had expected more visible security from what Rachel implied, but the front doors stood open, as if in welcome, and a keypad offered a button to press with an intercom for visitors to gain access through an inner door. The door buzzed open without Brenda needing to explain the reason for her visit, and a pleasant receptionist greeted her inside the hall, asking if she could help. Brenda smiled at the young woman.
‘Hello, I’m here to visit Alice Roberts. Can you tell me which room she’s in, please?’
The receptionist looked puzzled for a moment before replying, ‘I’m sorry, but Mrs Roberts left us over a week ago.’
Brenda’s eyes widened. ‘But her daughter told me she was here. Has she gone to another facility?’
‘No, Mrs Roberts went home. I saw her into the taxi myself. I’m sorry you’ve had a wasted journey.’
‘It appears I’ve got the wrong message… I’ll visit Alice at home. Thank you for your help.’
The receptionist buzzed a somewhat perplexed Brenda out. She returned to her car, took her address book from her bag, looked up Alice’s new address and fed the information into her sat nav. It seemed the village wasn’t too far away, but she was unsure if she’d find Alice at home. On impulse, she decided to ring Rachel to find out what was going on, but the number went straight to voicemail.
‘Rachel, it’s Brenda here. I’ve just been to The Elms only to be told that your mother’s at home. Can you ring me back when you get this message? I’m on my way to Melkinthorpe now, but I’d like to talk to you soon.’ The message was perhaps rather abrupt, but Brenda was angry. What was Rachel playing at? She certainly hadn’t given the impression that Alice was well enough to go home or would be soon, so what exactly was going on?
