The pharmacist, p.10
The Pharmacist, page 10
‘So, what is it you’d like to happen now? Where would you like to be, Alice?’
‘I want to go home! They’ve been very kind in here, but it’s not where I belong, and I’m certain that I’ll feel better in my own home. Please, let me go home.’
‘It’s not entirely up to me, but I can say that after our little chat, it appears that perhaps you are in the wrong place. Naturally, I need to speak to your doctor. I have an appointment with him later this morning and we’ll certainly discuss your case. If you were to go home, Alice, how would you manage on a practical level?’
‘There’s nothing physically wrong with me, although I’m stiff from sitting here all day, so I’m quite capable of looking after myself and my home.’
Fiona smiled. ‘Yes, Alice, I think you are.’
* * *
There was another unexpected visitor for Alice that afternoon. Dr Patel knocked on her door and introduced himself, asking permission to talk with her. Alice smiled at the opportunity to show off her new-found confidence, correctly assuming that this was the psychiatrist who would also have an input into her future.
The assessment was almost a repeat of her chat with Fiona Williams. Alice played it in precisely the same way, admitting to some confusion but ready to accept others’ judgement and advice. Her answer to the question of where she would like to be was the same, at home. Alice was sure she’d convinced him when the doctor left but was still anxious, longing for some feedback.
The feedback didn’t come until Sarah entered her room just before tea time.
‘You’re the talk of The Elms, now aren’t you?’ She laughed, a huge grin on her face.
‘What do you mean?’ Alice was impatient.
‘The assessor, Fiona Williams, told the doctor and the nurses you shouldn’t be in here. She thinks you’re more than capable of making your own choices and has recommended that the DOL order is lifted. Whatever you said must have worked because her recommendation is to discharge you as soon as possible, and the psychiatrist agreed with her decision. Are you pleased?’
‘Delighted!’ Alice jumped out of her chair and hugged Sarah. ‘And it’s partly due to you and your husband.’
‘What?’ Sarah screwed up her face, but Alice was beaming and already opening her wardrobe to look for her case.
‘Wait a minute, you can’t just walk out, there’ll be paperwork to complete and the doctor will need to see you. I think they’ll want some sort of care plan in place too before you leave. But maybe that doesn’t apply in your case?’
Alice tutted. ‘Do I look like I need a carer? I’m not that ancient yet.’
‘But what about Rachel? She’ll have to come and pick you up, won’t she?’
‘Ah, well, that’s the best bit. Rachel’s away on a business trip and won’t even know I’m going home until I’m there.’ Alice’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
‘But who’ll take you, see that you’re okay?’
‘I’ll get a taxi. When can I see the doctor?’
‘Probably not until his rounds in the morning. You’ll be on his list for then.’
Alice sighed. ‘I suppose I can bear one more night here, but I can’t wait to get home.’
Sarah smiled. ‘Have we been so terrible, Alice?’
‘Not you, never. Here, take your books back and thank you, I’ve enjoyed reading them. They’ve helped to keep me sane.’
‘Thanks, but I’ve read them all too, so I’ll put them in the library. I’ll miss you, Alice. You’ve made working on this ward so much better than I imagined it would be.’
‘I’ll miss you too, you’ve been so kind, but it doesn’t have to be goodbye, does it? You could always come and visit. See me at home and then you might not think of me as crazy.’
‘I’ve never thought of you as crazy, and I’d love to visit. I suppose we’re both newcomers to the town.’ Sarah fished a small notebook from her pocket. ‘Here, write your address and telephone number down for me and I’ll give you a ring to see how you’re settling back in. And I’ll give you my mobile number too, you can ring anytime, especially while Rachel’s away if you need anything, you know? So leave the packing until the doctor’s been in the morning. You don’t want him to think you’re too eager, do you?’
Alice spent the rest of the evening with the television on, oblivious to what the programmes were as her mind was focused on one thing only, going home. It was a bonus that Rachel was away. It couldn’t have come at a better time and would be fait accompli before her daughter even knew and could devise some way of thwarting her plans, which Alice was sure she would try to do.
The morning couldn’t come quickly enough, and Alice made mental lists of her priorities for when she was back in her own home, number one being to find out exactly where Tom was.
19
Richard Edwards was stunned by the change in his patient, the assessor was correct and Alice was undoubtedly capable of making her own decisions. There was nothing more he could do, therefore, except to discharge her immediately.
He’d last seen Alice two days previously and noticed a significant improvement even then. She hadn’t insisted that her husband was alive and admitted to being confused about facts pertaining to her past, which was all very positive. This morning, Alice appeared even better, remarkably so. The only niggling concern Dr Edwards had in discharging her was that Rachel Roberts was away from home. She’d been ringing The Elms each day, and the nursing staff provided her with verbal updates on Alice’s condition, but he instinctively knew she wouldn’t be happy if they discharged her mother while she was away.
‘Mrs Roberts, don’t you think it would be prudent to wait until your daughter’s return before you go home? It’s only a few more days.’ Dr Edwards asked the question, guessing correctly what the answer would be.
‘There’s no way I’m staying here another night. Besides, why should I occupy a bed which a patient with a genuine need might need? I’m not old or infirm and therefore don’t need my daughter to look after me or give her permission to do anything. I have a home to go to, and I’m going today.’ She was emphatic but polite and there was nothing the doctor could do to stop her. She also had a point about the bed; there was a waiting list growing by the day.
‘Okay, I understand, but if you do feel at all unwell once you’re home, ring your GP or dial 111. It’s been a difficult time for you, and you could relapse, so please be aware.’
Richard Phillip’s initial diagnosis of dementia had always troubled him. The questions Alice asked during their times together demonstrated good cognitive thinking. Still, there was no doubt she was delusional in other ways, inventing a career which had never been, a grandchild who didn’t exist, and insisting her husband was still alive. Yet over the last few days, Alice hadn’t maintained these fantasies so vehemently, so perhaps her memory was returning to what it should be. The cause of her delusions still puzzled Dr Edwards. Something must have caused them, an infection maybe, but it was possible they might never find out. This morning, he admitted to himself, there appeared to be nothing wrong with her at all.
* * *
Alice took her suitcase from the wardrobe when the doctor left the room, threw it on the bed, and hurriedly filled it with her few possessions. Most of the clothes were not her own, but she packed them anyway. Insisting they didn’t belong to her might give them grounds to rethink their decision to discharge her, the last thing she wanted. Since stopping taking the medication, Alice had been cautious with every word she’d spoken and every little action. It was heartbreaking to tell the doctor she was confused about the details of her past and especially about Tom when she knew in her heart that he was alive, but the pretence was necessary to convince them to allow her to go home. At least when she was home, she could embark on her search for Tom and Millie.
‘So, you’re leaving us, are you?’ The gruff voice startled Alice, and she turned to find Mavis’s unwelcome presence, freshly returned from her holiday.
‘I am.’
‘Sister asked me to give you this.’ Mavis handed over an envelope. ‘It’s your discharge letter.’ Turning to leave the room, there was no offer of help or fond farewells, Mavis’s feelings for her charge clearly equalling those Alice felt for her.
* * *
Within the hour, Alice climbed eagerly into the back seat of a taxi while the receptionist at The Elms smiled and wished her well. A sense of relief washed over her at actually being on her way home, an event Alice had at times doubted would ever happen. Two full days stretched out before her until Rachel was due to return from her trip, two uninterrupted days to settle in, collect her thoughts and form some kind of plan.
The idea of being home was so very welcome, although simultaneously tinged with apprehension over what she might find out. But Alice needed to be home. It was the logical starting point for discovering precisely what was happening. Convinced there must be a rational explanation for Tom’s disappearance, and without the medication and being free from those who purported to be helping her, Alice could finally think clearly. But that same clarity elicited a feeling of being very much alone, as the task before her loomed large and daunting. For all of her plans over the last twenty-four hours, it was difficult to know where to begin and the depressing thought of having no one to turn to for help was almost overwhelming.
Peering from the taxi window, Alice realised how little she knew about Penrith and the surrounding area. The five-mile drive to Melkinthorpe took longer than she’d expected, and a sudden thought about paying the taxi driver popped into her mind. Her handbag contained very little cash, Rachel had seen to it that she had little of anything, not even a door key, but Alice hadn’t admitted that to the staff at The Elms. A key was hidden under a stone in the garden which she would use, and if there was insufficient money in her purse to pay the driver, she’d ask him to wait while she went inside to find more. These minor obstacles were the first of many Alice would need to overcome, but the facts were clear in her mind, Tom was missing and Rachel wasn’t to be trusted. Alice was very much on her own and would need all her determination to discover precisely what was going on.
Alice’s relief was almost tangible when she found the key in its hiding place, a simple matter which validated her recent actions and restored confidence that she wasn’t as batty as others thought. Thankfully there was also enough money in her purse to pay the driver, with a small tip and thanks for her freedom, which he would never fully understand.
As she entered the cottage for the first time in weeks (exactly how many weeks was still a little uncertain), a strange sensation washed over her, but her doubts and uncertainties were something else to keep to herself. Alice was fighting to restore the world’s perception of her and she wouldn’t readily admit to any weakness or lapse in memory from now on.
Alice’s initial reaction was to call out for Tom on walking through the front door, although she knew how futile that would be. It was an instinct, one of many she’d have to evaluate before acting upon. If Tom were there, he would most certainly have visited her at The Elms to bring her home.
The house felt hollow and cold, even though it was a beautiful warm summer’s day. Alice moved through the empty rooms, opening windows to allow the sunshine and the fresh gentle breeze inside her home. This moment was one she’d longed for but was unsure, or perhaps even a little afraid, of where to start.
Alice carried her small case to the bedroom, opened it and tipped its contents onto the floor. There was nothing she wanted to keep; the clothes belonged to other residents, and everything was impregnated with the smell of The Elms, a place she desperately wanted to forget. Her next action was to open Tom’s wardrobe. Alice stifled a sob and examined the contents which hung there in place of Tom’s clothes. Her winter attire, coats neatly covered with garment bags, hung where Tom’s should be and on his shelf were her woollens, gloves and scarves.
Turning to her own wardrobe, she was again disappointed. It was full of her own summer clothes. Alice’s heart rate increased as disappointment flooded through her.
Scanning the room and looking for anything else out of place, or anything belonging to Tom, Alice noticed his leather cuff link box on the top of the tallboy, and a faint spark of hope blossomed from her despair. She grabbed at it greedily, longing to find something of her husband’s, anything to bring comfort, but on opening the lid, instead of the assortment of cuff links it usually held, there was just one single item – Tom’s wedding ring.
‘No!’ Alice couldn’t process what this meant. Her mind didn’t want to think about it. Staggering to the bed, she slumped down upon it, the ring still clasped in her hand. Examining it closely in the hope that it was just a similar ring, the engraved inscription of their wedding date and their initials on the inside confirmed what she did not want to believe. The ring was Tom’s.
This distressing discovery only presented more questions. Tom never took the ring off, so why would he do so now? Her thoughts travelled back to that awful day when he’d gone missing – when her life turned into a complete mystification. The question she asked then popped back, unbidden into her mind, had Tom left her, perhaps even for another woman? Hot tears began to flow and Alice gave way to huge sobs of grief as she lay on the bed, alone and suddenly very afraid.
20
When the sobbing eventually subsided, Alice was momentarily confused, but the feel of the gold band in her palm confirmed her discovery with an unwelcome stab of pain. Her husband hadn’t taken that ring off since the day they were married, so why would he do so now? As she dragged herself from the bed and made her way to the bathroom, Alice was sure the answers to her questions must be somewhere here, in her home.
After splashing cold water onto her face, she tentatively opened the wall cabinet where Tom stored his shaving things, only to find it empty, and a search of the other cupboards revealed her own toiletries, nothing at all of her husband’s. Steeling herself for whatever else she might, or might not, find, Alice went downstairs to the lounge and gazed around. Her eyes rested on their carefully chosen furniture, the pictures on the walls and the various ornaments collected over the years of their marriage, all very familiar but also somehow different. These possessions held memories, but Alice couldn’t afford to dwell on them; it was time to be dispassionate, to concentrate solely on facts, abandoning sentiment, for now at least.
The family photographs on display were familiar too, but on closer inspection, incomplete. Precious images from the past were still there, her wedding photograph, her sister’s wedding and subsequent pictures of Karen, James and Beth, a family group including Rachel with Alice and Karen’s parents. Tom’s mother smiled widely from a silver photograph frame and there were several photographs of their beloved Jenny, their golden-haired, beautiful daughter who would always remain just seven years old.
The images brought more tears to Alice’s eyes, but ignoring the ache in her heart, she concentrated only on which photographs were missing. There were no recent images of Tom; there should be a holiday photo from last summer when they’d toured Scotland with Barney. They’d asked a passer-by to take them together and it was one of the few good photos they possessed of the two of them. Surely she hadn’t imagined that? And then there was Millie. Alice distinctly remembered a photograph of her granddaughter in a pretty enamelled frame – an image of the child as a toddler, grinning into the camera – a picture which Tom had taken on one of the rare occasions when Rachel allowed them to take Millie out for the day. Alice loved that photograph; it couldn’t be a false memory, a figment of her imagination, it simply couldn’t.
Alice ventured into the kitchen, surprised to see that it was almost 3pm. Functioning in an automatic daze, she filled the kettle and opened the cupboard for the coffee. As expected, there was no milk in the fridge and no bread either, so she took a loaf from the freezer and prised off two slices to put in the toaster. She was hungry but possessed neither the energy nor desire to consider making a meal.
In her peripheral vision, Alice caught sight of the red coat hanging on the rack by the back door and remembered seeing it on the day she took ill. Rachel claimed it was hers. She approached the coat as if it was alive and might bite her, but a necessity to inspect it closely overcame her caution. The coat was in her size, but Alice couldn’t remember ever having bought or worn it. Rachel must be mistaken; it wasn’t the style of coat she wore and red certainly wasn’t her colour.
Turning her attention back to the coffee, Alice added two large sugars to compensate for the lack of milk and buttered the toast. The coffee still tasted bitter and the toast didn’t appeal but she’d promised Sarah that she would look after herself and, feeling slightly light-headed, common sense told her to eat and drink something.
Placing her mug and plate in the dishwasher, Alice took a deep breath and went back into the lounge to continue the search. Her plan now was to go through all the family photograph albums and find the tin box where Tom kept all their important documents. What she was hoping to find was unclear in her mind, but there must be clues somewhere.
Several albums from childhood were pushed aside, as was her wedding album and a couple from before the accident. Alice searched for more recent pictures to prove that her husband was alive and perhaps some images of Millie. The most recent photos were stored in boxes. She’d long ago given up putting them in albums to save space which fortunately made it easier to go through them.
