Sent Away to the Care Home
Dont you dare suggest it, Emilynot another word! Margaret Harrison shoved aside her bowl of porridge with surprising force for her age. You want to shove me into one of those homes?
So they can stick me with whatever comes to hand and smother me with a pillow so I dont make a fuss? Over my dead body!
Emily took a steadying breath, struggling not to notice her grandmothers trembling hands.
Gran, its not a council-run care homeweve found a private residence. Theres a big park nearby, and nurses on call day and night.
Youll have company, a huge telly And here youre alone all day while Dads at work.
We both know what company means, the old woman grumbled, wriggling into her pillows. Theyll rob me blind, want the flat off me, and toss me down some embankment.
You can tell Peter this: his mother will leave this house only in a box. He can look after me. Hes my son, isnt he?
I raised himnever slept when he had chicken poxnow its his turn!
Dad works two jobs, Gran. Hes fifty-threehes got high blood pressure, hasnt been to the cinema in three years, let alone on holiday!
Hell manage, Margaret snapped, lips pressed tight. Hes still young.
And you mind your tongue. Chicks dont teach the hen to lay. Wipe up that porridge and dont spread mess everywhere!
Emily fled to the hallway, exhaling so the walls shook. How do you talk to someone like that?
Her father came home at seven, too tired to take off his shoes straight away. He sat with a heavy sigh on the hallway footstool, staring into space for a few moments.
Howre you, Dad? Emily came to collect the groceries from his arms.
Im fine, Em. Chaos at the warehouseyear-end accounts soon. Hows Gran?
The usual. Another tantrum over the care home. Says were plotting her demise.
Dad, we cant go on like this. I checked the accounts for the monthwe have barely ninety quid left for food.
And I need to pay for my halls, and new textbooks.
Well figure something out, Peter groaned as he eased off his shoes. Ive taken extra shiftsovernights as a security guard, every other night.
Dad, youll collapse at this rate! Where will you fit sleep in? Thats not normal!
Peter said nothing, just headed to the kitchen and put a kettle on.
She eat anything?
Half the porridge ended up on the sheets. I changed them.
Ill see to her, you go revise. Its exam term for you.
Emily watched her father limp his way into her grandmothers room.
The pity she felt for him was staggering. Once a strong, joking man, now just a shadow.
The laughter was gone, the spark for life too.
***
A week later, things got worse. He staggered in later than usual one night and swayed as he walked in. Alarmed, Emily rushed to his side.
Dad, are you alright?
Just a bit dizzy, Em. The Tube was hot and packed.
Sit down, let me check your blood pressure!
The numbers flashed up: 180 over 110. Emily silently handed him his tablets.
Youre not going anywhere tomorrow. Call the GP.
Cant, love, he grimaced. Inspections tomorrow; if Im not there, theyll dock my bonusand we got the higher council tax bill for Grans old flat.
Sell it, Dad! Sell her flat outside London! Thats sixty thousandlife-changing money. We can clear the debts and get a proper carer for Gran.
He sighed. She wont agree, Em
She hasnt been there in five years! Why keep it?
He didnt get to answera banging started in the next room.
Margaret was hammering her mug, demanding attention.
Peter! Peter, get in here! Who are you nattering with? Plotting against me, are you?
He swallowed the tablet and went.
***
Six years ago, Dad had someone: Helengentle, steadyshed bring over homemade pies, and she and Dad planned a getaway to a cottage in the Dales.
It ended the moment Gran took to bed.
Helen tried to help, but Margaret made her life hell.
Think you can swan in here when its all set up? After my sons money, is she? shed cry, faking heart trouble every time Peter planned a date. Chuck her out! Now, go on, out!
Eventually, Helen leftDad didnt go after her.
The landline rang as Emily revised for exams. Dad hadnt come home yet.
Hello?
Is that Peter Harrison? came a mans voice.
No, his daughter. Whats happened?
Miss, its HR. Your father collapsed at work, lost consciousness during a meeting. Paramedics took him to St. Thomas. Write down the address.
Emily scrawled it in the margins of her notes. Before she could hang up, Margaret called out again.
Emily? Who was on the phone? Wheres Peter? I want my tea, tell him!
Emily entered the bedroom. Margaret was half-upright among her pillows, face sour.
Dads at the hospital, she said flatly.
What do you mean, hospital? Margaret froze, then snapped, Well, you all did this to me! He yelled at me yesterday and now Gods punished him.
Never mind any of you! Whos going to feed me now? Go on, put the kettle on.
Emily left, silent.
***
Three days, Emily ran between home and hospital.
Dad was diagnosed with a hypertensive crisis, worsened by extreme stress.
The consultants banned him from even sitting up.
Hows my mum? was the first thing he asked when she visited.
Shes fine, Dad. The neighbour helps out. Worry about yourselfyou need at least a fortnights bedrest.
Two weeks Ill be sackedwhat about money
Sleep, Emily tucked his sheets. Ill sort it. Promise.
On day four, she came home to a hail of complaints.
Whereve you been? Im lying here filthy, Peters off larking about and Im stewing!
Emily steeled herself and spoke firmly.
Right, Gran, listen. Dads seriously illanother shock and he could have a stroke.
Dont talk rubbish. Margaret scoffed. Hes fit as a fiddlejust like his father. Now, help me turnmy backs dead.
No, Emily sat, dead calm. I wont turn you. I wont feed you, either.
Margaret gawked.
Whats all this? Have you gone barmy, girl?
No, but were out of money. Dads not working, no bonus, and your pension doesnt even cover your pads and blood pressure pills.
Lies! Peter must have cash tucked away!
Theres nothing left. It all went on your check-ups. So, your choice: either you sign to sell your flat, or I call adult services tomorrow, and you move to a council care homefor free.
You wouldnt dare! Margaret shrieked. Im his mother! This is my house!
House? Youre ruining your son. Dont care if he lives or dies, do you? All you wants another biscuit and a warmer blanket.
I rang the home we talked about today. They have a spot. The sale money will cover your fees. The staff there are wonderful.
Im not going! the old woman wheezed.
Then go hungry. Theres no food money left. Tomorrow I start extra shifts, wont make it back till late. Theres a bottle of water on your table. Decide.
Emily closed the door softly, shaking all over. Shed never been harsh, but now she knew: break the cycle or lose her father.
Gran well, Gran would outlast them both if she was allowed to drain their lives away.
The night passed quietly. Emily resisted going into the room, though she heard Gran call, sob, curse her fate. She entered only at dawn.
Water… the old voice creaked.
Emily brought the mug to her lips.
Well? she asked. Will you sign? The solicitors coming at twelve.
Vultures Margaret murmured, but with none of her usual spite. Fine. Get your papers.
Just tell Peter to visit me.
He will, when hes better. And Ill come too, I promise.
***
Peter sat on a bench in the grounds of the care home. He looked betterhed put on weight, and his cheeks were pink again.
Next to him, his mother in her wheelchair, prim in a new tartan shawl, thoughtfully munched an apple.
Peter? Son?
Yes, Mum?
You did you call Helen? Are you two friends again?
He blinked in surprise.
I did. She said shell pop round on Saturday.
Good, Margaret turned away, staring at the flowerbeds. Theres a nurse hereLinda, quite rough with her words, always telling me off. Let your Helen see how Im treated.
And mind you treat that woman kindly, Peter. No good ever comes of making a lady cry. Like your father
Peter smiled and took her hand. Down the path, Emily jogged towards them, waving, her face alight with happiness.
Dad! Gran! she squealed while still far off. I got my grant approved! And work just increased my shifts!
Peter stood and spread his arms. Margaret watched them, narrowing her eyes.
She still thought shed been slighted, thrown out of her own nest, but now she kept her protestations to herself.
When the carer approached and gently suggested it was time for massage, Margaret dipped her head, dignified.
Lets go, love. Careful nowIm fragile. That last masseur nearly broke my leg. Tell them to be gentler this time. Like a bear, some folkhonestly
The nurse wheeled her away, and Emily hugged her father. Together, they watched the ancient oaks in the sunlight.
For the first time in years, the three of them tasted happiness again.
***
Margaret lived to meet her great-grandsonEmily finished her studies, married a good man, and had a boy of her own.
Peter remarried, to Helen this time. Margaret accepted her new daughter-in-law and, to everyones surprise, the two women formed a genuine, even warm bondHelen forgiving the old bitterness, Margaret, in her own way, letting go.
Margaret passed away quietly, in her sleep, bearing no grudges against her granddaughter or her son.
