Time Out of Mind

by Ruth Hay

  Rising in a purposeful manner, Caroline shook hands with the manager and left the office.

  She had promised to see her great-grandmother before leaving for the day and now she had

  a head full of ideas and a reason to check around in the room and see what might be done there.

  Chapter Seven

  Caroline made it back to college for afternoon classes by skipping lunch.

  She had not wanted to rush her visit with her great-gran as the old lady seemed to be quite upset. It was difficult to determine what was causing her distress as she would not reply to Caroline's questions.

  Even singing did not help to lighten her mood. Caroline tried the television in the corner of the room, thinking the voices might soothe Gigi's spirits after she had to leave, but the set was old and dim and Caroline realized it was no substitute for the known human face and sympathetic tone that she could supply.

  Eventually, when it was almost time to go, Caroline gently asked, "What's the matter? Why are you crying Gigi? I have to go soon and I don't want to leave you like this."

  The sad old face turned to her with bleary eyes and the weary head shook from side to side murmuring a litany she repeated again and again.

  "I am so sorry, so sorry. I knew it was wrong. I was selfish and wicked. It was all my fault, all my fault and I regret everything I did. It was not about love, far from it. It was never about love.

  Forgive me. Forgive me."

  The depth of feeling in these words alarmed Caroline. It may have been simply nonsense from a fevered brain but it was not possible to leave her great-grandmother in this state.

  Caroline looked out of the door and spotted one of the young men who cleaned rooms.

  She had earlier seen Mary giving instructions to him.

  "Excuse me!" she called out. "I need some help here. Can you get Mary for me or one of the other female staff?"

  The lad turned at once and trotted towards her, rustling from the long plastic apron he wore for his duties. "Is it Mrs. Purdy? Has she fallen? I'm Patrick. I can help you."

  "No, it's not that. She is really upset about something. Would you mind getting someone to check on her Patrick? I don't want to leave her alone."

  "Right you are! I'll be back in a shake of a lamb's tail!" Patrick shrugged off his apron as he spoke, and disappeared around the corner of the corridor at top speed.

  Thank God there are some younger people here for emergencies, thought Caroline. She went back inside her great-gran's room and sat beside her, rocking the quivering old body and patting her back, saying, "It's all over now. Whatever it was, it was long ago and it has all passed. Don't fret. Don't fret yourself, please."

  Mary arrived and took over with her brisk, competent manner.

  "Ah, I see she's upset. She has been like this before, my dear, and there's nothing to be done until she calms down again. I'll get one of the girls to bring hot milk with some of her sedative in it. She'll go right to sleep and when she wakes she probably won't remember what set her off in the first place."

  Seeing Caroline's concerned face, Mary added, "Off you go, dearie. There's nothing you can do.

  You have been here long enough today. We'll take over now."

  Caroline gathered up her laptop and jacket and, feeling as if she had just been dismissed from class, she walked slowly back to the exit door and punched in the key code which Eva Singh had given her earlier in the day.

  She felt a mixture of emotions; relief to be excused from a situation she could not handle, guilt that she might inadvertently have triggered this reaction in Gigi, and a powerful desire to know what could have happened in her great-gran's life to cause such long-lasting pain.

  Another item to add to the long list of problems I need to solve, she told herself as she ran toward the High Street and the bus stop.

  * * *

  Later that day Caroline joined her father in the garden. The lighter spring evenings allowed her father to pursue his favourite pastime. He was on his knees with a trowel in hand digging up the soil so that the rain could filter down to the roots of his precious clematis and wisteria vines.

  Although the Fentons had only been in the new house in the subdivision for three years, thanks to her father's skill, theirs was the best garden in the neighbourhood.

  In good weather, her mother was happy to sit outside on the patio her husband had created from paving stones of tumbled limestone. She would admire the plants and sip a glass of wine, but that was the extent of her interest. The real work was done by her husband. Caroline had often heard him say the work in the garden was a labour of love and the only place he could get away from the stresses of modern life.

  For this reason, Caroline hesitated to interrupt her father, but she had pressing concerns on her mind and she needed his advice.

  "Daddy, can I talk to you while you dig?"

  David Fenton's head came out of the undergrowth as soon as he heard his daughter's first word. She had rarely called him 'Daddy' since she turned twelve years old and he recognized a crisis when he heard one. Throwing down his heavy gloves, he sat back on his heels and looked at Caroline. "What's up, kitten?" he asked, keeping his tone light so as not to scare away her confidences.

  "It's OK, dad, nothing major, I just need to ask you about your work. You can go on digging if you like. It won’t take long."

  "Well, I'm overdue for a break. My knees are creaking already. I shouldn't do too much at one time this early in the season. Clear the stuff off the chairs and we'll sit there for a bit."

  Caroline had to laugh at her father's attempt at a nonchalant manner. He had mud smeared all over his forehead where he had reached up to push back the wing of dark hair that matched his daughter's. Caroline kept hers under control with hair products but her father was too old-fashioned for that solution.

  "What's so funny?"

  "Sorry, dad! You look like a kid, with muddy hair plastered to your forehead!"

  "Huh! It's honest earth, Caro. It wouldn't do you any harm to get your hands dirty once in a while. After all, you enjoy the fresh veggies I grow, don't you?"

  "Of course, I do! You're a genius in the garden dad and I'm sorry I can't share your hobby, but I just don't have the time and that's part of what I want to ask you about."

  "Fire away! I'm all ears!" This old family joke set them both laughing and the atmosphere lightened appreciably.

  "It's this community service project I am doing at great-gran Isobel's nursing home. I am ready to write down a detailed plan now but I need to know a bit about one of your clients."

  "What do you mean?" David Fenton's curiosity was thoroughly aroused now and his expression showed his puzzlement at his daughter's request. What could she want with the business people he advised from the brokerage firm in London?

  Caroline shifted her chair so she was looking directly into her father's eyes.

  "Well, I was in Mike's room the other night and he told me he got a lot of tech stuff from a client of yours and I was wondering if I could possibly get some help from him and maybe even some free equipment."

  She stopped to take a breath and knew immediately from her father's expression, what was coming next.

  "Let's start at the beginning, Caro. What is it you are trying to do?"

  It took only five minutes to bring her father up to date with her progress on the project.

  When she outlined the problems she had observed at the nursing home, her father nodded as if he had heard it all before from his wife.

  "You see, dad, I can't do anything about the town council, or government subsidies for seniors' housing, or faults in the health services, so I have to look for other solutions to the problems. That's when I decided to apply lateral thinking. I am a young person and I want to use my resources in a new, creative way and do something no one else would think of."

  David Fenton silently thanked his lucky stars that he had been blessed with a daughter who actually cared about others instead of being obsessed wit
h the celebrity-watching culture that was brain-washing most of British youth.

  "I can't imagine how I could help you, Caro, but you know I will do anything I can."

  "Great! Here's what I was thinking. You know the CCTV cameras that film speeding cars and watch people in malls and train stations to prevent crime?"

  Her father still looked puzzled but did not interrupt.

  "On movies and TV shows you often see how the police can monitor the cameras and identify the time and location where something happened. Well, I think the same idea could be used to keep watch on the old folks in the nursing home so that if anything happened, like a fall or choking or something, they could get help at once instead of waiting hours for an inspection to occur."

  "You mean a closed circuit system in the nursing home that would run all day and night?"

  "You've got it dad! Could that be done with digital equipment, like the internet? Something like the Skype stuff Mike has? A small camera mounted on a wall in the resident's room and a bank of receiver screens in the manager's office. It would only take one person for each shift and they could probably do other paperwork or computer work as well."

  "I'm not positive, but it sounds feasible. How would this be funded, Caroline?"

  "That's the big question, dad. I'm thinking a trial project in one corridor…..the one where my great-gran is, and then we could see how it all works. I need you to let me contact your client who is funding Mike and ask him if he would do this as a charitable donation. Isn't that a tax write-off?"

  David was astonished at his daughter's passionate appeal and the thought she had devoted to this project. He could see a mountain of problems from privacy issues to technical glitches but he did not want to shoot down her enthusiasm. He glanced up at her eager, flushed face and decided to proceed cautiously.

  "I can't promise anything, Caro. I will certainly inquire for you. Johnson's is a big firm but you would be asking for both time and money and these are in short supply in this economy. Don't get your hopes up."

  "I won't, dad, but if you can start the process, it will be a huge boost." Caroline's brain was revving up to high speed as she spoke. She wanted her father to understand that she could manage on her own, if necessary." If Mr. Johnson can't help me, I'll think of someone else.

  I mean to survey the local businesses in Heathfield and find out who supplies food and medicines to the nursing home. There are other elements to the project as well. I have some interesting ideas to involve my pals at the college and I want to try fund-raising and…………."

  "Hold on there! Remember you have other commitments too, Caro. You can't get completely absorbed in this matter when you have exams and sports and family stuff to deal with."

  Caroline could see her father's alarm and realized at once that he had her best interests at heart, as usual,

  "It's OK, dad. I have it all under control. Didn't you teach me to plan ahead and use a schedule? I can show you my week by week outline on the laptop if you want. It'll only take me a minute to get it."

  "No, no! That's not necessary. I trust your time management skills completely, Caroline.

  Just be careful with your energy and don't be afraid to downscale your plans if it all gets to be too much for you."

  "No probs, dad. I'm that pink energizer bunny thing, you know!"

  With this parting shot, Caroline was out of the chair and into the house through the French doors. She had a million things to do, starting with phone calls to Janine and Ashley, but something else was nagging at her. She needed to find her mother.

  David Fenton sank back in the patio chair and groaned as his back hit the metal curlicues of the wrought-iron furniture his wife insisted on placing on the patio. The darn things were uncomfortable and weighed a tonne and it was too early in the season for the upholstered soft cushions to be left outdoors. Stuffing his gardening jacket behind him, he marveled at the energy of youth. Where does it all go, he asked himself as he leaned on the heavy table and heaved himself up for the last attack on weeds before the light left the garden.

  * * *

  Sarah Fenton was in the kitchen watching a chat show on TV while she added vegetables to a stir fry and watched a pot of brown rice on the stove. When Caroline came rushing in she called out at once, "Good! Just set the table for me, Caro. I can't leave the stove and Mike is bringing a friend for supper."

  "Yuk! I hope it isn't that grungy Mark the Spark, or whatever he calls himself."

  "Now, Caroline, you know it's our job to civilize the male population. Think of it as a contribution to the greater good."

  "In Mike's case, I doubt it's even possible, but I'll try."

  "That's all I ask, my darling."

  Caroline set out salad, cutlery, paper napkins and glasses and took the chance while her mother was focused on the stove to introduce the topic that had been on her mind all day.

  "Mum, what do you know about your grandmother's life?"

  "Ah, I have been expecting this question from you, Caroline. I guessed you would be interested in the family history now that you know your great-gran better."

  "Well, that's the problem. I really don't know her at all and after what happened today, I wonder if anyone ever will."

  Sarah turned from the sizzling wok and studied her daughter's face for a moment.

  "Exactly what happened today? Is she all right?"

  "I suppose so, but it was a strange incident. I was with her just chatting away and suddenly she started to get upset and cried out about feeling guilty about something and asking for forgiveness. It was quite weird and I couldn't do anything to comfort her."

  "That must have been difficult for you. What did you do, Caro?"

  "I just called for help and from what I heard, it wasn't the first time this kind of thing had happened."

  Sarah turned off the wok and spooned the stir fry into a casserole dish, placing it in the oven to keep warm while she gave her full attention to her daughter.

  "It's possibly the result of old age, Caroline. Gran may have been dreaming about something and it just spilled over into the real world for a minute."

  "Hmm, it did seem real, Mum. She was heartbroken about something. What could have happened to her to leave that kind of after-effect?"

  "Honestly, I don't know. The person we need to ask is my mother. Your Gran Lynn and Granpa Stavros are due back from Greece in a few days. We'll see them when they come to visit their mother at the nursing home and you can ask your questions. They both lived with your great-gran after her husband died so if anyone knows about her past, they will."

  "Right! That should help. And in the meantime I will be putting plans in place for my project."

  "Not until you've eaten! Pour some milk or pop and sit down before the hordes of the unwashed arrive."

  "Ha! I won't be telling Mike you said that, Mum"

  "You'd better not, Caro!"

  * * *

  Caroline made a quick exit as soon as dessert appeared on the table. She grabbed an apple and fled upstairs before Mike could remind her that it was her turn to load the dishwasher. She had pushed her portion of chocolate mousse towards Mark and Mike as she left and they were distracted by their argument about who deserved it more. She was in her room with the laptop open before they caught on to her ploy.

  It was time to set things in motion for her project, now labelled, provisionally, ‘Today’s Youth Help the Elderly’.

  “I need a more catchy title than that,” she mused, but moved on to the next item on her agenda. Music: Caroline knew that music is a way to access memory and bring enjoyment to seniors. Her great-gran responded well to old tunes from her past. I can download tunes from old movies on the internet onto an iPod, she told herself, and see if Gigi would like them.

  If it works I can try the idea with others in the nursing home. Listening to their own choices should be much more entertaining than whatever is on a modern CD that most of them wouldn’t know or like.

  Caroline h
ad also made a notation about pets. The research she had done indicated that the presence of animals was soothing to patients in hospitals and nursing homes. Some of the residents must have owned pets at some time in their lives, she thought, and surely a visit with a well-trained dog or cat would bring back happy memories.

  She chuckled as she imagined Eva Singh’s protest about safety issues as she typed this into her laptop. It was clear that alternative ideas would have to be presented whenever such objections arose and in this case, Caroline had found a great substitute on the internet. Japanese firms had developed fur-covered kittens and seal pups which responded to human touch and moved when stroked, even making soft sounds of delight. They were designed for comfort and companionship when an elderly person could not care properly for a live animal. Caroline had sourced a mini version of these robots in a local store and although they were not of the quality of the Japanese models, the small kitten toys would be worth trying out if the real thing was not appropriate.

  Exercise: Caroline had an idea to help out the nursing home staff by enlisting the aid of volunteer students to take residents outside in the garden on fine days with their walkers or wheelchairs, and talk to them while they enjoyed the fresh air. She had a more ambitious plan to investigate the possibility of building a shallow, warm-water pool in the nursing home for exercise and physiotherapy. Some expensive gyms and spas in the Sussex area had these facilities and Caroline thought they would work wonders for seniors who were able to benefit from them.

  She sat back and sighed at this point. Every idea she came up with cost money; some more than others. She was hopeful that her father’s client, Mr. Johnson, might be willing to contribute the technology she wanted to try out but she could hardly ask him for more funds.

  Fund-raising was going to be necessary. The High Street was full of charity shops raising money for many good causes involving donated used clothing and other goods for’ Help the Aged’. Caroline did not want to replicate ideas that had already been tried. She needed something new and different that would involve people her age.