Counting Sunsets

by Paul Gait

  ‘The Police! What about my Patients?’ he said, overwhelmed with the turn of events.

  ‘I have to add, that we are also concerned about your commitment to ALL your patients in your care. It would appear that you have double standards, putting extra efforts in to the care of Mr Foster to the detriment of others,’ she added officiously.

  ‘Come on Ann. You know me better than that! I treat everybody with the same level of care, as I always have.’

  ‘Your part time working is causing administrative problems too and will also be revisited.’

  ‘What! But we agreed that if it was causing you problems, we would review it together.’

  ‘Can I now ask you to leave, immediately.’

  ‘What about Mr Foster and all my other patients?’

  ‘I have already made arrangements for their continuing care.’

  Ann opened the door for a distraught Andy. Who left, as directed, going straight home.

  On his way home, Andy was desperately trying to understand what he’d done which could have caused the problem. He was so totally overwhelmed by the accusation, that he couldn’t think straight. He remembered how upset and totally inconsolable when, as a kid, he had been falsely accused of breaking the next door neighbours window. And even now, as an adult, he felt the same, he was absolutely devastated at being accused of something he hadn’t done.

  ‘Andy is that you?’ Helen called, hearing the front door close.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, hanging up his coat.

  ‘What are you doing home, at this time of day? Is everything alright?’

  ‘No.’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve been suspended.’

  ‘You’ve been what?’ she said stunned, rushing into the hallway.

  ‘Suspended! They’ve sent me home.’

  ‘Oh Andy! What’s happened?’

  ‘Somebody has reported me for supplying drugs.’

  ‘Supplying drugs! she repeated in astonishment. ‘To whom?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said disconsolately.

  ‘Well have you?’

  ‘I can’t believe you even asked that,’ he said, hurt. ‘You know I wouldn’t. Of course not,’ he emphasised angrily.

  ‘Who is saying you did?’

  ‘They wouldn’t tell me.’

  ‘Think. Is there anybody who you’ve upset recently, anybody likely to bear a grudge about your nursing?’

  ‘No, not that I can think of.’ he said miserably, racking his brains.

  ‘Did you upset anybody when the new hut was built? Think! Andy, think!’

  ‘I wonder,’ he said, suddenly thinking of his involvement with Geoffery. ‘We’ve had a run in with the wife of one of Geoffery’s godsons. I wonder if it’s her?’

  ‘Not that dreadful one you were telling me about? The one who beats her husband.’

  ‘Yes. Come to think of it, apparently, she threatened Geoffery, after he liberated her husband the other day.’

  ‘But, I didn’t think you were with him then.’

  ‘No, I wasn’t.’

  ‘Well, has she got any basis for her allegation?’

  ‘No. I’m very wary about her and would never… although!’ he said suddenly recalling his earlier visit with Geoffery.

  ‘What?’

  ‘When we visited her husband, Rupert, at home. He had just been hurt and was still in a lot of pain. He said she had taken his painkillers. So Geoffery took sympathy on him and, inspite of me telling him not to, gave Rupert one of his painkillers. I bet that’s what this is all about.’

  ‘Has she got any evidence?’

  ‘I think we might have left the empty box there. Damn it! The packaging had the name of the hospice on it.’

  ‘Oh Andy! What did Geoffery say?’

  ‘I had to leave without talking to anyone,’

  ‘Well you’re going to tell him aren’t you? After all it was his fault that you’ve been suspended.’

  ‘Not yet. I need to think.’

  ‘What’s to think about? He lost you your job, because of something he did. I suggest you call him straight away and get this sorted.’

  ‘Don’t rush me,’ he said irritably

  CHAPTER FORTY FIVE

  Friday October 31st – Sunset count 61

  James entered the Cheltenham coffee bar sporting a large plaster on the side of his forehead. He was clean shaven and wore new clothes. He walked with a confident swagger. Gone was the shuffling alcoholic gait. But his swarthy face, his red rimmed eyes and shaking hands, bore the evidence of his harsh life on the streets. He had been invited by Geoffery, who stood slowly as he approached.

  ‘Hello James,’ he said, stretching out his hand. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘Geoffery. Pleased to see you old chap,’ James said, trying not to show his shocked reaction, to the grey faced individual, whose bony hand he shook.

  ‘How’s the hotel?’

  ‘Bed’s a bit soft. I’ve had to sleep on the floor for the last few nights, and it’s so stuffy in the room, in spite of sleeping with all the windows open.’

  ‘Well, I guess after sleeping on the streets for so long, it will take you some time to get back to living in doors again. Anyway thanks for coming.’

  ‘It doesn’t look like the years have been kind to either of us, does it?’ James said, studying Geoffery’s sallow complexion.

  ‘Exposure to life, eh? But I guess we had some fun, en route though. I must say it’s nice to see something of the old you. Not the old tramp, that stared out at me, from the photos.’

  ‘Photos? Oh of course, your spies.’

  ‘That’s how I tracked you down initially, and then of course Andy and Ben.’

  ‘What I’d like to know. Was Ben and those yobs, all part of your grand scheme to get me here?’ he said, touching the plaster gingerly.’

  ‘I’m flattered that you think I am able to orchestrate such things. But I can assure you those were, totally coincidental,’ Geoffery said, looking him straight in the eye.

  ‘I’ll believe you, but thousands wouldn’t. I know what manipulative powers you’ve got, don’t forget.’

  ‘You’ve got too vivid an imagination.’

  ‘Really? What about a little bit of arson to get your own way?’

  ‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, to be sure.’

  ‘Old Scout hut, New Scout hut, for instance. Ben and Andy were talking about it, on the way back from London. I recognised a similar modus operandi in some property dealings, with which you’ve been involved, over the years.’

  ‘Purely coincidental, I can assure you,’ he lied.

  ‘I think Ben could do with a public declaration that he wasn’t responsible for the fire, don’t you? It’s ‘eating him up’. He’s fearful that someone will convince the police, that he did it.’

  ‘I’m sure we can get a fire report, to indicate that it was an electrical fault,’ Geoffery said uncomfortably. Surprised that James had seen through his little scheme.

  James felt pleased that he had been able to do this for Ben.

  ‘You know, there’s something about wearing clean clothes isn’t there?’ James said lightly, admiring his new jacket.

  ‘James, I’m glad they managed to persuade you to get off the streets, and even more pleased, that we have the chance to meet again.’

  ‘I’m intrigued that you should expound all this effort to find me, and bring me here. So, what’s it all about?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘All will become clear. First let me ask you a few questions.’

  ‘Sure, fire away. But you’re not being a very good host. Do you think I could have a drink?’

  ‘Of course. Apologies for my oversight. Americano or Cappuccino?’

  ‘I was thinking of, something a little stronger.’

  ‘Espresso perhaps?’ Geoffery said, mischievously.

  ‘I was thinking of something alcoholic. I need to maintain the alcohol to blood ratio.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but this is
all part of your challenge.’

  ‘Challenge? What do you mean, challenge?’

  ‘It’s pretty obvious, that you’ve been down on your luck recently.’

  ‘Yes. I think we can agree on that understatement.’

  ‘I want to help you, sort yourself out. So you can make a fresh start.’

  ‘What on? Buttons!’

  ‘Don’t worry about the financial side of things. I’ll deal with that.’

  ‘So long as there is an endless supply of booze available, I shall be happy.’

  ‘You might be disappointed, with that side of the deal.’

  James was clearly struggling to concentrate on the conversation. His hands were shaking, he kept subconsciously running the back of his hand over his dry lips.

  ‘Look! About this drink, I really need something. I just want a small bottle, that’s all.’

  Geoffery ignored the request and carried on with his prepared approach.

  ‘You know, your parents were great people. I owe it to them to help you now.’

  ‘I can’t really remember too much about them,’ James said, irrationally running his hand through his hair.

  ‘Pity! They were lovely people.’

  ‘Yeah, well my guardian never spoke of them either.’

  ‘Well that makes me feel very bad then.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was your Godfather; I should have been there to help you.’

  ‘That’s water under the bridge. So what brings you back into my life now, after all these years?’

  ‘Making amends.’

  ‘For?’

  ‘Duties that I failed to carry out.’

  ‘Steady on old chap. This sounds like a confession. Dereliction of duty.’

  ‘I’ve had people looking into your life. It’s a mess, isn’t it?’

  ‘It’s not gone the way I planned it. No.’

  ‘Yacht gone. Ferrari sold. Penthouse, part of the past.’

  ‘A temporary blip. It’s the nature of things when you live my sort of lifestyle.’

  ‘Living on the streets for over a year…is a long, temporary blip.’

  ‘Well you know.’

  ‘Losing Sebastian, was that the trigger?’

  ‘Look, I’d rather not talk about him, if it’s all the same to you,’ said James, taken aback at the sound of Sebastian’s name.

  ‘You need to talk about it, to help you move on.’

  ‘Are you sure there’s nothing stronger in here?’ James said, looking around.

  ‘You need help, and I can give you that. But only if you want it.’

  ‘A nice bottle of sherry would do for a start,’ said James, his hands shaking.

  ‘You need to dry out James. I can help you do that. In a clinic.’

  ‘I don’t need to dry out. Just, another bottle. That’s all I need.’

  ‘Does it help?’

  ‘That’s a stupid question. Of course it does. Just like your painkillers.’

  ‘Sebastian wouldn’t like to see you like this.’

  ‘Sebastian is dead. Just leave it will you,’ said James angrily.

  Frightened that he’d drive James away, by pursuing the point, Geoffery altered tack. ‘I gather that you found young Ben, in London?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He’s a nice kid isn’t he?’

  ‘I tell you what. If he’d been up there any longer, he would have been into the street life. The pimps would have had him into drugs and prostitution. There are a lot of kids like him up there. Runaways. All looking for a better life.’

  ‘Is that what you find in the bottle, James. A better life?’

  ‘You know his mother’s an alcoholic?’ James said, avoiding the question.

  ‘Yes, he told me,’ Geoffery confirmed.

  ‘Ha, the little bugger even tried to convert me. Get me on the wagon. Incidentally the mini bar in my room is empty. Any chance of..?’

  ‘I don’t think that’s wise is it?’

  ‘A man could die of thirst,’ he said plaintively.

  ‘That’s another reason why Ben ran away. Her drinking, and choice of boyfriends.’

  ‘From one drunk to another, eh!’ said James, trying to control his shaking hands.

  ‘If you won’t do it for yourself, why don’t you do it for Ben? I gather you might owe him one? Probably saved your life with his first aid?’

  ‘I think that’s exaggerating it a bit. Anyway, London’s not the place for him. I don’t want the kid throwing his life away. Right.’

  ‘I’m glad you said that, because I don’t want you throwing your life away either. I’ve got a challenge for you?’

  ‘Yes, so you said. Sounds intriguing, but I’m not interested.’

  ‘I want you to go into a clinic, to help you to get off the booze.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Because you’re still young, and have a life to live.’

  ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘The point is you can take charge of your life again, and move on. It’s up to you, what you do after.’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Perhaps help young runaways in London, by persuading those that will, to go back home. Or even help shelter those who won’t.’

  ‘Sorry old chap. You’ve got me mixed up with somebody else. I’m no bleeding evangelist.’

  ‘No, but you could help. Look, I’ve done some investigations and there are a few homeless organizations that are struggling for help.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Well, you know what it’s like to live rough. Why don’t you help to set up a homeless shelter? A bed for the night scheme. I’ll obviously fund it.’

  ‘I don’t owe anyone, anything. Right now I need a drink,’ James said, standing and headed for the exit.

  ‘Damn it,’ said Geoffery, hitting the table. ‘Then again, nobody said it would be easy.’

  CHAPTER FORTY SIX

  Saturday November 1st – Sunset count 62

  Geoffery’s meticulous planning in setting Tim a realistic challenge included consulting various organisations who undertake the training of people who lose limbs, including a Service’s Limbless Veterans organisation. Having been impressed by the incredible feats achieved by some amputees from the armed services, Geoffery decided to provide Tim with a trainer. Consequently he had recruited a former soldier, Carrie, to become Tim’s trainer, in order to improve his chances of succeeding in the challenge. He insisted that Tim was not to be told about the arrangement, because of Tim’s obvious dislike of him.

  Geoffery had selected Carrie from a list of possible trainers, because she too, was a double amputee, who, like many Service people, kept herself incredibly fit. Born and bred in Newcastle, her Geordie accent had softened with her exposure to other dialects in the army, but she had still maintained her tough Northern values. She was the sort of person, that Geoffery reckoned would be ideal, to ‘tame’ the petulant Tim.

  Carrie was waiting for Geoffery in the hospice day room, to give him an update of Tim’s progress.

  ‘How’s it been going?’ Geoffery asked. ‘Hard work isn’t he?’

  ‘He’s neet that bad, considerin eez problems,’ Carrie said positively.

  ‘Well, you’ve obviously seen something in him, that I couldn’t see,’ he replied surprised.

  ‘Sure, he’s unfit. But eatin the stuff he tells me he devoors, an’ bein a virtual couch potato, wey, frankly, I’m neet at all surprised. Ah think I can knock him intee shape though,’ Carrie said optimistically.

  ‘It must be your influence that’s doing it then. I knew I made a good choice to appoint you as his mentor. How long’s it been, since he joined the gym?’

  ‘Must be about, a couple of weeks now. But, give him credit, he does go every day.’

  ‘That’s probably because you’ve befriended him.’

  ‘We get on alreet.’

  ‘Do you think he suspects anything?’

  ‘Neet as far as I’m aware! He thinks, I’
m just somebody he’s met at the gym, an we both have the same physical constraints.’

  ‘Good. Because if he suspects I’m involved, he’s most likely to give up. You might have detected, that we don’t exactly see eye to eye.’

  ‘So, if you don’t get on, why bother wi him?’ she asked, curious about Geoffery’s motives, for continuing the strained relationship.

  ‘It’s a long story,’ he said. ‘Let’s just say, I need to do it, for his own good.’

  ‘Alreet, well whatever,’ she conceded. ‘Anyway, he’s gettin sum basic level of fitness. I’m plannin to take him to Wales eventually, to give him sum real mountain experience.’

  ‘Thanks for your persistence,’ Geoffery said encouraged by her positive assessment. ‘You’ll of course be getting a bonus, on top of your regular trainer’s wages. If you succeed.’

  ‘That’s very generous, thank you. Ah like a bit of a challenge mysel,’ Carrie said, revelling in the physicality of the mission. ‘We’ll get him up the mountains, don’t yee worry.’

  Tim had also confided in Carrie, the reason he was trying to get fit, which assisted her in suggesting a training regime best suited in preparing for the challenge.

  She recalled the first hint of his challenging nature, shortly after she’d latched on to him when he said ‘I’ve been meaning to ask. Why are you called Carrie? Your gym membership form has you listed as Caroline?’

  ‘Have yee been nosin at my stuff?’

  ‘No, just happened to be at reception the other day and saw it.’

  ‘Wey if yee must know, my army colleagues gave me the nickname from the Stephen King movie.’

  ‘Carrie! Yeah I know,’ he said, recalling the film from his extensive video collection.

  ‘They said ah was a ‘scary bird’ wi spooky powers.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘There’s this army training room, that they call the ‘killing house’. Wey, yee have to anticipate where targets are likely to pop oop and shoot them. Wey, consistently ah got top score,’ she informed him modestly.

  ‘Killing House! Wow, that sounds just like an Xbox game. Great.’

  ‘Except, this game’s for real, though. If you’re in a real firefight, yee don’t get a second life. Anyway that was a long time ago,’ she said dismissively. ‘In a previous life. I’ve moved on now.’