Time Out of Mind

by Ruth Hay

  "Come on now, Mrs. Purdy, you know you have to take these. Just open your mouth and take a sip of tea and they'll be down in a jiffy, there's a good girl."

  Caroline could see that this approach was not going to work. Gigi had visibly stiffened and clenched her lips shut when she heard the wheedling tone of voice.

  To give her great-gran a moment to compose herself, Caroline asked what the pills in question were for.

  The young girl, whose name tag identified her as Sally, turned to Caroline in some relief and pointed out the pills and their purposes.

  "This blue one is for her heart, and this white one is a mild sedative. The small pink one is for bowel regularity and the larger pink one is a diuretic."

  "Goodness!" exclaimed Caroline, "that seems like a lot of pills for one person."

  "Well, it's what Mrs. Purdy's doctor prescribes for her, but, believe me, it's not easy to get her to take them. You wouldn't like to try, would you? Sometimes a relative can manage it when I can't."

  Without waiting to see if Caroline agreed to this, Sally jumped up and made for the door, saying over her shoulder, "I'll check back with you in ten minutes after I've done this corridor."

  Caroline was left holding a saucer with the four pills and wondering how she would accomplish this task if Gigi was reluctant to open her mouth.

  "Now what?" she said aloud. "You'll have to help me with this Gigi. I can't just force these pills down your throat, can I?"

  At the sound of her voice, Gigi turned her head and looked at Caroline for the first time.

  "Is that Sarah's girl? Is that Caroline? You're the only one who calls me Gigi. Have you come to take me home?"

  Caroline's heart jumped into her mouth when she heard this plaintive request.

  Despite everything she had learned about the difficulties of housing an elderly relative, she longed to be able to answer her great-grandmother in the affirmative. She would not lie, however, and for lack of a better alternative she leaned over the bed and tenderly wrapped her arms around the frail body, whispering in her ear, "Oh, I wish I could, Gigi! I so wish I could!"

  Something in her voice, or in the warmth of her emotion awakened a response.

  "I know my dear, I know. It's hard for you, too, but as long as we are together it will be all right."

  Caroline could not tell if her great-grandmother really knew who she was talking to.

  For the moment, they were comforting each other and that was all that counted.

  * * *

  I remember holding Marion and telling her everything would work out. She was distraught at having to miss the chance of a stolen hour or two with Gus in her aunt's hotel room.

  Through her sobs I heard her bemoaning the hours we had spent shopping for glamorous night clothes and finding exotic body lotion in shops where supplies were limited by war-time restrictions.

  "I can't believe I have this fever, Isobel. I feel so sick, inside and out. Gus will hate me for backing out of our arrangement. I know he was longing for this night as much as I have been."

  Pulling back from my arms where she had been soaking the front of my blouse with tears, Marion dashed her hand across her dripping nose and turned her feverish red eyes on me.

  With sudden determination she began to plead with me, grasping my shoulders and shaking me with all her frantic strength.

  "Izzy, you have to go to him and explain. He will be waiting outside the hotel. He will wait all night if no one tells him what's happened. You must go! You must go! Do it for me!"

  This burst of energy exhausted her totally and she collapsed on the bed in a sodden heap.

  What else could I do? I couldn't reach Gus by any means I knew. Kyle was working at the butcher shop. Marion's mother must never get wind of this secret assignation. There was no one else who could be trusted with the message.

  I reassured Marion and went downstairs to retrieve my coat. Marion's mother thanked me again for coming to see her sick girl. I felt guilty on hearing her genuine praise. I already had a plan forming in my mind; a plan that, if it worked at all, would shatter my friendship with Marion forever.

  I jumped on a tram car at the end of Marion's street. I still had time to change my mind as the tram rattled its slow way to the town centre. The chill night air swept in around my feet and I shivered with fear about what I was about to do. I shivered with fear or anticipation. It was hard to tell which emotion was uppermost.

  Finally the tram reached Sauchiehall Street in the middle of town. The rain had driven shoppers home early and the only light came from gas lamps turned down low because of blackout conditions. I pulled the collar of my navy school coat high up to shield my face. I did not want any passer-by to see me on this mission.

  The hotel was a large, impersonal place with an entrance on a side-street. I knew Gus would be waiting for Marion's arrival in an alley behind the hotel, and I found him there, huddled beside a rubbish bin trying to shelter from the downpour.

  "Thank God you came, Marion!" was his first response. The look on his face when he discovered that it was not his beloved Marion after all, struck me to the core.

  He could not stifle the sobs that tore through him, although he tried to compose himself.

  He turned his head away from me and gasped, "No! no!" with such a heartbreaking sound that my reaction was automatic. I clutched him to me and wound my arms about his heaving shoulders while I gently told him about Marion's anguish and disappointment.

  "Will she be all right?" he mumbled into my collar. I nodded my head and did nothing to separate myself from his embrace. This could be the only chance I would ever have to be in his arms at a moment of vulnerability; a moment when he badly needed consoling.

  As my arm moved down to get a better grip around his chest, I felt something hard in the inside pocket of his raincoat. I recognized the shape at once. My father carried just such a silver flask filled with liquor when he went to work. The curved shape blended with the contours of the body and was almost unnoticeable.

  "Do you have a drink with you, Gus?"

  "Oh, yeah," he admitted bitterly. "I brought it for Dutch courage, I suppose, but I won't be needing it now."

  With this thought he began to pull away from me and I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind, "Why don't you take a sip or two, Gus? You're chilled to the bone. It will stop the shivers."

  He reached into his raincoat and had the cap twisted off the flask before I could say anything more. I could see the relaxing effect as the whisky warmed its way down to his chilled limbs and I also accepted a sip from the flask when it was offered.

  We stood there together, in the falling rain, passing the flask back and forth, too disappointed to start off on the weary way home.

  My mind was racing. This was my chance, but I had no idea how to capitalize on it.

  Then something unexpected happened.

  We had all heard sirens before, but inside a house or flat the harsh sound was muted to some degree. Standing in the dark laneway, the raucous blare shot right through us with the power of panic. Within moments, footsteps clattered on the street and people began to hurry along clasping children or pulling older family members with them.

  I quickly realized this was providence. The bomb shelter for this area must be in the hotel.

  Gus still stood, dazed with shock. I grabbed his hand, removing the flask and pushing it into my pocket. We joined the crowd pushing forward into the hotel and followed along as they went through a door in the foyer and down a flight of stairs to a lower level. I kept hold of Gus' hand and he stumbled along after me as if he had lost his will to move.

  The crowd dispersed into a hallway near the hotel kitchens where storage rooms contained mattresses and blankets to ward off the damp conditions. This must have been routine for the families who lived in the centre of town. In a few minutes they had found a spot, settled themselves and hushed the children back to sleep.

  I dragged Gus a few yards further along and fou
nd a small cupboard with bags of rice and flour on shelves. There were empty sacks on the floor. I kicked them into a pile, pushed the door shut and blocked it with a large can of powdered egg. Gus had already dropped down onto the sacks with his head in his hands, moaning about Marion.

  I did not stop to think. I was acting on instinct and my emotions were as inflamed as Gus' were depressed. I knelt beside him and shrugged off my damp coat. I began to whisper about Marion and the desire she felt for him. I knew every single thing she had planned to say and do with her lover and I made use of each syllable. I was breaking every code of friendship and fairness but by then I could not have cared less. In the dark, the warmth of my skin and the taste of my lips became the dream encounter Gus had imagined with his lovely girl.

  It did not take long to arouse him. I had two older brothers and the ways of male sexuality were not unknown to me.

  * * *

  Gus reached out to me and I shamelessly undid his trouser buttons then rolled over on my back.

  The act was over very quickly. Gus fell asleep on top of me and I lay there, feeling such a turmoil of conflicting emotions screaming inside me that I could not believe the entire world was unable to hear them.

  Then the sirens stopped. In the still-ringing silence Gus murmured, "Marion, my darling."

  It was like a shower of freezing water pouring all over me. I had led Gus to believe I was Marion, but now I understood this was not what I had wanted. I wanted him to love me, only me. To share his first experience of lovemaking with me and feel a bond that could never be broken. It was all spoiled, tainted, ruined.

  I pushed him aside and pulled my clothes together. In a moment I was out in the hallway, running for my life out of that dreadful place where I had shamed myself, and betrayed my friend, all for nothing. Less than nothing.

  * * *

  "There, now, Gigi! That wasn't so bad, was it? The pills went down easily with your tea and toast while I was talking about my school project. No, please don't cry! I will be back in an hour or so, I promise. I am going to have a look around and see what it's like here. I'll see you soon."

  Caroline pushed the swing door open and saw Mary approaching. "Sally tells me you were giving Mrs. Purdy her pills this morning. How did that go?"

  "She took them in the end after she had settled down a bit," replied Caroline as she opened her notebook and checked to see if her pen was attached. She would have preferred to use her laptop but since they would be walking most of the time, her notes could be transferred later.

  "Excellent! Here's your first lesson. All medications must be checked in the ledger inside this wheeled cabinet every day. As you were the one to administer the pills today, Caroline, you should initial beside Mrs. Purdy's name."

  As Caroline complied with this request, she asked Mary about the role of medicines in the nursing home.

  "Nothing like jumping in at the deep end, young lady!" exclaimed Mary with a sigh.

  "As you could see with your relative, some medication is required to keep the patient's health in balance and some is to keep their spirits calm."

  "You are talking about the sedative, I think?" asked Caroline.

  "Yes, I am! It is not easy for some people to adjust to living in a community when they have been independent all of their lives. A small amount of a mild drug soothes their anxiety.

  Now don't look at me like that, missy! Everything given to our residents is under doctor supervision."

  Mary marched ahead with rather more than the necessary force in her footsteps. As she followed, Caroline made a mental note not to challenge whatever she heard today, but to listen and watch intently and jot down the information.

  The tour introduced Caroline to a variety of facilities the nursing home supplied. She immediately listed the ones that might be beneficial to her project, such as the small lounge, only four doors away from her great-gran's room, that had an exit to an outdoor area where she could glimpse benches set along a paved pathway.

  The nursing home was arranged in a horseshoe shape with the entrance, lounge and dining room in the centre and corridors forming a U shape around the perimeter.

  Caroline noticed the names and photographs on all the residents' doors and this drew her attention to one corridor where there were two names on each door.

  "We do have some residents who are married and share a room," Mary replied to the question. Caroline immediately imagined a situation where two members of the same family were suffering from dementia or Alzheimer disease at the same time, and found herself horrified at the thought.

  "Sometimes an older spouse accompanies the sick person rather than leaving them alone here. This can happen when the two have been together for a very long time and can't bear to be parted from each other," explained Mary.

  "Now, you'll have seen the elevator at the end of this corridor. It leads to the first floor where the more severe dementia cases live."

  To Caroline's great relief, Mary added, "We won't be going up there."

  Looking out of the corridor's windows, Caroline saw spring plants and bushes in flower.

  The colours improved the view and added to the bright paints and wallpapers decorating the walls inside. It was clear that attempts were being made to make the surroundings as cheerful as possible.

  Mary's next stop was at the kitchens. Caroline was introduced to the head chef in his white jacket and chequered pants and to the women who prepared the menus. She was told how important meals were for the residents, not only to promote good health but also because mealtimes were essential social events and broke up the day for those who could attend.

  This brought up the issue of outside activities. Mary showed Caroline a bulletin board with a list of upcoming events including a bus trip to the seashore. There were photographs of dances held in the main lounge to celebrate Valentine's day and Easter, and a schedule of health visitors who conducted quizzes and physical activities like stretching to music.

  "This is quite impressive," said Caroline. "Can I ask what your main problems are since you seem to have the food, accommodation and activity areas well covered?"

  Mary looked searchingly at the young visitor. She was calculating how much to reveal without scaring away any possible help the girl could supply. With a shrug she decided to answer honestly.

  "We need more staff. There are simply not enough of us to look after all the needs of our residents. You have seen for yourself that long hours on their own is not a good environment for the elderly. They benefit from the stimulation of conversation and families today just can't manage the number of hours required to meet the needs of their relatives. That leaves it all to us."

  Caroline recognized the truth in this statement but Mary's next suggestion surprised her.

  "I am going to hand you over to our manager now. Eva would like to discuss some issues of safety and security with you."

  "Oh, I see. Thank you for your time Mary. I have lots to think about now."

  With a wave of her hand, Mary headed over to help out in the small kitchen area where tea and coffee were being made for residents in the lounge who were seated in a variety of armchairs, listening to the radio.

  Caroline tapped on the office door and quietly entered when she saw a signal from Eva Singh who was at her desk answering a phone call.

  "Well, of course I understand the importance of regular maintenance. It is one of the requirements of our charter. My complaint is that the servicing is more frequent than it should be because of the inadequacy of the equipment you have supplied."

  Caroline could tell by the tone of this conversation that it was private. She made to go outside again and wait there, but Eva shook her head and smiled. It seemed that her irate tone was an act to impress tradesmen. In a few more exchanges she had settled her complaint and turned to Caroline with a welcoming smile.

  "So nice to see you again. How was the tour?"

  "Caroline could not help glancing down at her copious notes, liberally decorated wit
h question marks, but she returned the smile and answered that it had been very informative.

  "Good! You must be wondering about the phone call you just heard. It happens to be relevant to our discussion today. One of the major problems we have here is the whole issue of safety for our residents. You probably noticed the bell pulls in each room? We like to think these devices quickly enlist our attention when help is needed. The system does work, although it is somewhat antiquated these days. The truth is that our residents do not use them. "

  Caroline looked up from her notes at this point. She could not imagine why a useful and simple thing like a red cord, easy to reach and located everywhere, would not be used.

  Eva responded to her unspoken question. "Some of the elderly have poor eyesight, some have even poorer memories, and some are simply non-compliant when it comes to rules and regulations."

  "Does this not make it very difficult for you to get help to people when they need it most?"

  Caroline was picturing her great-grandmother lying helpless on the bathroom floor calling out for help that might be hours in arriving.

  "You are right, of course. It is the nightmare scenario that keeps me awake at night. We need a better system to monitor our residents without being overly intrusive, but we simply don't have the finances to install this kind of innovation."

  A germ of an idea began to form in Caroline's brain. What if there was some way to watch over the elderly folk while they were in their rooms? She thought back to Mike's array of tech wizardry. Could he help her devise a method on a trial basis, using the resources of the company he was working for? What would such a tech solution look like and how could it be tried out with the minimum of disruption?

  Eva Singh was still talking when Caroline's focus returned to the office. She had no clue what had been said in the last minutes while she had been immersed in a possible plan.

  "Well, thank you for filling in some of the problems," she said, when Eva finally stopped talking. "I will be presenting my project for your approval quite soon now as I need to get started on this. I think I have enough information to get going. You, and all the staff here, have been most helpful."