Sent Away to the Care Home
“Dont start with me, Maisie, dont you dare!” Edith Barker shoved her bowl of porridge away with surprising strength. “You want to dump me in a home, do you?”
“So they can jab me with whatever they fancy and smother me with a pillow to shut me up?”
“Over my dead body!”
Maisie drew a deep breath, careful not to look at her grandmothers trembling hands.
“Gran, its not a home. Its a private care centre. There’s a lovely forest nearby, and the nurses are there round the clock.”
“You’ll have people to talk to, a massive telly. Here, youre on your own all day while Dad’s at work.”
“We know all about their ‘companionship’,” Edith croaked as she settled back into her pillows. “Theyll fleece me for every penny, nick the flat, and leave me in the gutter. Tell Graham I wont be leaving my house unless its in a box. He can look after me himself. Hes my son, isnt he?”
“I raised him, I sat by his bed every night when he had measles. Now its his turn.”
“Dads working two jobs, Gran, just to pay for your medicines! Hes fifty-three, his blood pressures all over the place. He hasnt been to the cinema in three years, let alone on holiday.”
“Hell cope,” Edith snapped, lips pressed into a thin line. “Hes still young. And you, Maisieenough cheek from you. Go on, wipe up that mess. I wont have filth in my kitchen!”
Maisie stepped out into the corridor and let out a noisy sigh. How was she meant to speak to her?
Her father stumbled home at seven in the evening. He didnt even bother taking off his shoes, just sat on the ottoman in the hallway and stared into space.
“Dad? Are you all right?” Maisie came to him, taking the heavy shopping bag from his arms.
“Im fine, love. Works mad, annual reports due. Hows your gran?”
“Same as ever. Kicked off about the care centre again. Swears were trying to get rid of her. Dad, we can’t go on like this. I checked our accountsweve got three hundred left for food this month. Ive still got to pay for halls and textbooks.”
“Well figure it out,” Graham said heavily, hauling himself up and pulling off his boots. “I picked up some extra night shifts as security, every other day.”
“Dad, are you mad? When are you supposed to sleep? Youll collapse somewhere!”
But he didnt answer. He just went into the kitchen, filled the kettle.
“Did she eat?”
“Half the porridge ended up on her bed. I changed the sheets.”
“Right. Go and study, Maisie. You’ve got exams. Ill feed her and clean her up.”
Maisie watched him limp towards his mothers room. Her heart ached for him. Once, hed been strong, always joking, full of life. He was a shadow now. The laughter was gone, the light in his eyes had faded.
***
A week later, things got worse. He was late home, swaying as he shut the door. Maisie panicked.
“Dad? Are you feeling ill?”
“Im all right, love. The tube was stifling, made me dizzy.”
“Sit down. Let me check your blood pressure.”
He sat obediently as Maisie wrapped the cuff round his arm. 180 over 110 flashed up on the screen. Silently, she brought him his tablets.
“You’re not going in tomorrow. Doctors orders.”
“I cant,” he grimaced. “Theres an audit at workif Im not there, Ill lose my bonus. And the tax bill on your grans flat just went up.”
“Sell it, Dad!” Maisie dropped her voice, glancing at the door. “Sell that one-bed in Hertfordshire. Six hundred grand, Dad! That would clear our debts, get proper care for Gran.”
He sighed. “She wont give consent”
“She hasnt set foot in that flat for five years, Dad! Shes bed-bound. Why does she need it?”
He didnt get to answerthe harsh din of metal against wood started up from Ediths room.
“Graham! Graham, come here! Who are you whispering with? Plotting behind my back again, are you?”
Sighing, Graham downed the pill and went to answer her summons.
***
Six years ago, his life had been different. Thered been Carolinekind, calm, popping by with homemade pies and dreams of a weekend away together. It ended the moment Edith took to her bed. Caroline had tried to help, but Edith made her life hell.
“Waltzes in here, thinks she can take everything! Stealing my son, she is!” she’d bellow, clutching her chest like she was at deaths door every time Graham left to meet Caroline. “Chuck her out! Go on!”
Eventually, Caroline left. Graham never tried to win her back.
One evening, Maisie was poring over her textbooks when their landline rang. Her dad wasnt home yet.
“Hello?”
“Is that Mr Graham Barker?” asked a mans voice.
“No, Im his daughter. Has something happened?”
“Miss, this is HR. Your father collapsed at work today. The ambulance took him to St Georges. Write down the address.”
Maisie scribbled it onto her revision notes, hands shaking. Shed barely hung up when her grans voice piped up.
“Maisie! Who was that? Wheres Graham? He can bring me some tea, Im thirsty!”
Maisie entered the lounge. Edith was propped up, scowling.
“Dads in the hospital,” Maisie said.
“In hospital?” Edith paused, but her glare was back in a second. “Well, thats what comes of how you two treat me. He shouted at me yesterday; now look, hes been punished. Wholl feed me now? Go on, put the kettle on.”
Maisie said nothing and left.
***
For three days, Maisie ran herself ragged between the hospital and home.
The doctors diagnosed Graham with severe hypertension brought on by exhaustion and stress.
“You need total restat least two weeks, Mr Barker. Bed rest,” said the consultant.
First thing, Graham asked Maisie, “Hows Mum?”
“All right, Dad. The neighbours been in helping. You think about you for now. Minimum two weeks, the doctor says.”
“I cant Ill lose my job the money”
“Shh, Dad. Ill sort everything, I promise.”
When Maisie returned home on the fourth day, Edith greeted her with a litany of complaints.
“Where have you been? Im lying here filthy, Grahams lounging about in hospital and Im left to rot!”
Maisie clenched her fists, keeping her voice calm but firm.
“Heres the situation, Gran. Listen carefully. Dad could have a stroke if he goes through any more of this. Hes gravely ill.”
“Dont talk rubbish,” Edith sneered. “Hes strong, like his father. Right, help me onto my side, my backs aching.”
“No,” Maisie said, sitting down. “I wont. Nor will I be feeding you either.”
Ediths eyes bulged in disbelief.
“What nonsense is this? Have you lost your senses, girl?”
“No. We have no money. None at all. Dads not working, no bonus, and your pension doesnt even cover the cost of your incontinence pads and blood pressure pills.”
“Lies! Graham must have something stashed away!”
“Theres nothing. It all went on your scans last month. So, you have two choices: either you sign the paperwork to sell your Hertfordshire flat, or tomorrow I call social services, and theyll take you to a council home. Free of charge.”
“You wouldnt dare!” Edith shrieked. “Im his mother! This is my house!”
“Your house? Youre destroying your own son. He could die in that hospital. But youd rather think about your comfort and your porridge. I spoke to the care home again today. Theres a space, and the money from the flat would cover it. The care is excellent.”
“Im not going!” Edith coughed, defiant.
“Then go hungry. Theres no money. I start my part-time job tomorrow. Ill be back late. Theres water by your bed. Think it over.”
Maisie stepped out, closing the door behind her. She shook all over. She had never been cruel, but now she realisedif she didn’t end this, she would lose her father.
And her gran her gran would outlive them all, leeching the life from them, if they let her.
The night passed in silence. Maisie didnt go in, though she heard her gran calling, crying, even cursing. Only in the morning did she return.
“Water please,” croaked Edith.
Maisie held the cup to her lips.
“Well? Will you sign? The lawyers coming at noon.”
“You vultures,” Edith whispered bleakly, the fight gone. “You just want to take everything All right. Write your blasted papers.”
Just tell Graham tell him to visit, will you?”
“He will. When hes better. And Ill visit, too. Promise.”
***
Graham sat on a bench in the care homes gardens. He looked wella bit heavier, colour back in his cheeks.
His mother was beside him in her wheelchair, wrapped warmly, biting into an apple.
“Graham? Graham, love,” she called.
“Yes, Mum?”
“Have you called Caroline? Did you make up?”
He blinked in surprise. “I did. Shes coming round on Saturday.”
“Well, good,” Edith huffed, turning away to the flowerbeds. “Let her come. The nurse here, Lucy, shes rough as old boots, always telling me off.”
“Let your Caroline see for herself how they treat me. And Graham, be better to her. Its not right, a man making a woman cry. Your father”
Graham smiled and squeezed her hand. Maisie came running down the path, beaming.
“Dad! Gran!” she called from afar. “I got the grant! And work gave me a raise!”
Graham stood and spread his arms wide. Edith watched them, eyes narrowed.
She still felt it was all unfair, being forced from her home, but she kept it to herself now.
When the carer came and gently offered to take her to her massage therapy, Edith nodded, regal as ever.
“Lead the way, dear. Mind you, careful with me. Your massage man nearly snapped my leg last time Tell him hes not to manhandle me. Like a ruddy bear, honestly”
The carer wheeled her away. Maisie wrapped her arms round her father, and together they stood beneath the tall pines.
For the first time in years, the three of them were truly happy.
***
Edith Barker lived long enough to meet her great-grandsonMaisie finished university, married a good man, and had a baby boy.
Graham married Caroline, and Edith accepted her second daughter-in-law; in time, they grew genuinely close, all past troubles forgotten.
Edith slipped away quietly in her sleep. All grudges faded. No one doubted the love, at last, had won through.
