by Amy Andrews
Fran couldn’t believe what she was seeing. They were tucking her in? David brushed past her and motioned her outside.
‘I’ll ring her family,’ said Glenda, and left to do so.
‘What the hell is happening? She should be getting into an ambulance.’
‘She’s ninety-nine, Fran. She has a living will that states she wants no heroic efforts in the event of a heart attack or stroke.’
‘So…we just leave her to die?’
David looked at the disbelief on her face. He had seen it many times with doctors and nurses who had come from the hospital system. They were used to treating. Everything that came through their doors they treated, admitted or patched up and sent it home again.
Aged care medicine was different. Nursing homes were places where old people came to live out their last years with respect and dignity and to die amongst friends and people they knew and loved.
‘We let her declare herself, Fran. If she improves over the next few days, we’ll transfer her to the nearest base hospital for rehab. But the chances are she won’t. She’s had a large stroke. She’s unresponsive and barely breathing. We’ll start her on an IV to keep her hydrated and some morphine for any discomfort, but I expect she’ll just slip away some time in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.’
‘She’d stand a better chance in hospital.’
‘She’s ninety-nine,’ he repeated again, gently because he knew how fragile Fran was underneath her indignation. ‘They won’t treat her aggressively, Fran. Better she die here. Ashworth Bay is her home. She was born here, married here, raised her kids here, buried her husband here and wants to die here. Not in some faceless city hospital.’
Fran swallowed. She knew too well how awful that experience was. ‘But…’
‘We’ve all got to die of something eventually,’ he said softly.
Fran felt a ball of emotion rise in her chest. She looked at Mabel and shook her head to dispel the moisture that had formed in her eyes. He was right. At least Mabel had had a good long full life. She herself was witnessing the natural life cycle drawing to a close and it was as it should be. Old women like Mabel died. Unfortunately young girls like Daisy sometimes did, too.
Fran nodded, refusing to look David in the eye. She couldn’t bear the compassion she knew she would see there. The same wretchedness of heart she had seen flicker in his eyes once before. The empathy from someone who had been there and done that.
She excused herself and almost ran down the corridor in her haste to get away.
CHAPTER FOUR
FRAN pulled herself together and continued the medication round as Glenda organised for Mabel’s family to come and formulated an acute-care plan with the care staff to keep Mabel comfortable in her last hours. The round was therapeutic because it gave Fran something else to think about instead of her rather notable first day!
It had certainly been interesting and one she wouldn’t forget in a hurry. But she was on the home straight now. What else could possibly go wrong?
Cue disaster number three.
‘Hi, Fran.’
Fran stopped in her tracks. That little voice sounded remarkably like Miranda’s. She turned. ‘Miranda? What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I come here every afternoon. The school bus drops me here and Daddy and I go home when he finishes with the oldies.’
No. Say it wasn’t true! Not only did she live next door to this little girl that reminded her too, too much of everything she had lost but she was going to see her every day at work as well?
‘Oh.’ Damn it, why? Was this ‘torture Fran’ day? Surely an aged care home was hardly the most appropriate place for a twelve-year-old to be hanging out?
‘I love it here and Daddy says as long as I do my homework first and don’t get under anyone’s feet and mind my own business and don’t listen to Molly, Polly and Dolly when they start talking about sex then I can come here. Otherwise I have to go to after-school care and this place is so much more interesting. Don’t you think?’
‘Ah…ah…interesting, yes. That’s a good word for it.’
‘Where’s Fonzie?’
‘At home.’
‘Oh, won’t he be lonely?’
Fran looked at Miranda’s little face, a frown between her brows. Yes, she suspected he would be very lonely indeed but she’d been trying not to think about it. ‘I’m not gone that long. He’ll get used to it.’ She hoped.
‘I know,’ Miranda said, an excited little gleam creeping into her green eyes. ‘You should bring him to work with you. We had a house cat but she died a few months ago. She used to belong to me but I couldn’t keep her any longer so Glenda said she could be the home’s mascot and that way I could still visit her a lot. Oh, Fran, it’s perfect, don’t you think?’
Fran opened her mouth to say she didn’t think so when Miranda was off again.
‘I’m going to talk to Glenda about it right now.’
And she was gone before Fran could call her back. Disaster number four. Fran stared after her for a moment and shook herself into action. She’d better go and put Glenda straight. First she’d lost Ethel, next Mabel had had a stroke, then she’d realised she would be seeing much more of Miranda than her heart could possibly bear and now it would look as if Fran was trying to bring her pet to work!
Glenda, David and Miranda were sitting at the table where Fran had been interviewed when she reached the office.
‘Fran, come in. Mirry’s just been telling us her idea,’ said Glenda.
‘Ah…yes, sorry about that. She ran off before I had the chance to stop her.’
‘Stop her? What on earth for?’ asked Glenda. ‘I think it’s a brilliant idea. The residents have had a long enough hiatus to get over Roger’s death. Pet therapy cannot be underestimated. They doted on Roger. A puppy is just the right medicine, especially as Mabel’s death will be felt so keenly.’
David looked at the bemused expression on Fran’s face. It looked like she couldn’t quite believe she was being railroaded by her boss and a twelve-year-old girl. Well, welcome to his life! Glenda had been bossing him around since he’d arrived in Ashworth Bay fifteen years ago and Mirry…well, she had him twisted firmly around her little finger.
‘What do you say?’ asked Glenda.
It would certainly solve her problems with worrying about Fonzie while she was at work. And he would be spoilt rotten—he’d love it. ‘Yes…I guess. Yes.’
‘Oh, Fran.’ Miranda ran to her and wrapped her skinny arms around Fran’s skinny waist and jumped up and down against her. ‘That’s so cool, Fran. Thank you, thank you.’
Fran felt her breath freeze in her chest as Miranda’s arms circled her. She could feel the excited beating of Miranda’s heart against her, and the feel of the little body against hers was so exquisitely right, so achingly familiar she wanted to sweep Miranda up and hold her there for ever.
Instead, she stood awkwardly, careful not to touch, her eyes shut, waiting for it to be over. Because if she gave in, just once, she was afraid she’d turn into an addict. An addiction far worse than that for any drug. The hit you craved when you’d lost a child and only their feel and their smell were ever going to ease the craving. Miranda wasn’t Daisy but it had been a long time since she’d held a young girl in her arms and she ached for it so badly she could barely breathe.
Glenda and David looked at each other. She raised one eyebrow at him and he shrugged back. Fran was holding herself so erect and stiff it was almost comical. It was as if Fran was afraid Miranda had some awful contagious disease or something.
Was that the reason why her marriage had broken up? Because her husband had wanted kids and she hadn’t? Or they hadn’t been able to have them at all and even being near a child was a too painful reminder of what she couldn’t have? So many marriages broke up over infertility.
‘Come on, Mirry,’ David interrupted, ‘let Fran go. Have you done your homework yet?’
‘Not yet,’ she said, smiling up at Fran before l
etting her go. ‘Mr Finch was just finishing his afternoon tea. He’s going to help me with my long division.’
‘Well, I’m sure he’s done by now. I’ll come and get you in half an hour.’
‘OK, Daddy.’ Miranda gave him a peck on the cheek and skipped out of the room.
‘Sorry about that,’ David apologized. ‘She’s a little too spontaneous for her own good.’
Fran shook her head dismissively and sent him a small smile. ‘It’s fine.’
‘And we all do spoil and indulge her a little too much,’ Glenda admitted. ‘She’s grown up among adults all her life. We tend to forget she’s only twelve.’
The phone rang and Glenda answered it, chatting briefly before handing it to David.
‘It’s Penny,’ Glenda said, filling Fran in. ‘She’s the RN whose job you now have. She’s having some contractions and she’s a bit worried.’
Fran and Glenda watched the brief conversation.
‘Penny thinks she’s gone into labour. She’s having a bit of a panic. She won’t calm down. I’m going to go and see her. Can you take Mirry home with you and I’ll pick her up on my way past?’ he asked Glenda.
‘Oh, David, I can’t today. I promised I’d go straight to the lawyer’s in Nambour to sort out Mum and Dad’s affairs.’
‘No problem. I’ll see if Catherine can do it for me.’
‘She and Earl are going to the movies in Noosa straight after work,’ said Glenda. ‘Maybe Fran could do it?’
Fran looked up, startled. OK…it was the simplest solution. Her shift finished in half an hour and she was going straight home. David could take his time and Miranda would just be next door when he’d finished. But the ache in her soul rebelled at the idea. She was getting too involved with her neighbours and she didn’t think she should set any dangerous precedents.
‘Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,’ said David quickly. ‘I’m sure the staff won’t mind keeping an eye on her for me.’
Fran shut her eyes and sighed quietly. It seemed churlish not to offer. He had helped her find Ethel after all and been wonderfully kind and caring with her. ‘I’ll take her home with me.’
David looked at her. She looked like she’d rather saw off her arm. ‘No, it’s OK. She can stay here till I’m done,’ he said.
‘Nonsense.’ Fran forced a smile on to her face. ‘It makes perfect sense for me to take her home.’
David wasn’t sure. Of course it made sense but he’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind to not pick up on her reluctance.
‘She’s right,’ said Glenda. ‘It does make sense.’
‘Are you sure?’ he asked hesitantly. He didn’t want to push the friendship so early in the piece.
Fran nodded.
‘OK…thanks, Fran, I really appreciate this,’ he said, picking up his bag. ‘I hope I’ll only be an hour at the most. Penny is a bit of a panic merchant, though, so…’
‘She’ll be fine, David. Just go.’
He had no doubt she would be and Mirry would be in girl heaven, especially having Fonzie to play with. He just wished as he looked at her resigned expression that she seemed a little happier about it. He shot her a grateful smile and left.
Fran followed shortly after. She checked on Mabel. She seemed to be breathing much easier now and her daughter and son and some grandkids and great grand-kids had arrived. There were tears but also a lot of laughter and reminiscing, and Fran thought what a nice sense of family and love was flowing around the room.
Glenda introduced her to the afternoon staff and she handed over to them and went in search of Mirry. She found her in the lounge, playing cards with the Ibsens. Fran stood in the doorway and watched them from a distance.
‘So, Fran has moved in next door?’ said Dolly to Miranda.
‘Yes,’ said Miranda, playing her card. ‘It’s very exciting. She has the cutest puppy and she’s so-o-o-o beautiful, don’t you think?’
Fran heard the wistful note in Miranda’s voice. She sounded like the ugly duckling, wishing she could be the beautiful swan.
‘What does your daddy think?’ asked Molly, shooting a sly glance at her sister and playing her card.
‘He thinks she’s very pretty. He said she looks regal or she would if she wasn’t so skinny. And she looks sad but I told Daddy that I could make her happy again.’
Fran felt her heart bang painfully against her ribs. Oh, to be a child and have everything seem so simple. So logical! Happy? Fran didn’t think she could be happy ever again. And she hadn’t come here to be happy. To function as a human being again, yes. But happy was probably stretching it.
‘Maybe your daddy could make her happy, too, my dear,’ said Polly to Miranda.
Fran’s eyes grew wider at the cheek of the three ladies who were old enough to know better, involving a child in their matchmaking schemes. Luckily it seemed to have gone over Miranda’s head. She ignored her banging heart and entered the lounge.
‘There you are, Miranda. Where’s your bag, sweetie? It’s time to go.’
Miranda smiled at Fran and surrendered her cards. ‘It’s in Mr Finch’s room. I’ll just go get it.’ She skipped past Fran, smiling at her again.
‘Such a cute kid, wouldn’t you say, Fran?’ said Molly innocently.
‘Adorable,’ Fran agreed politely, refusing to be drawn.
‘Do you have any kids, dear?’ asked Dolly.
And there it was. The question she dreaded more than any other. Every time it came her way she felt a jolt of electricity sweep through her, scorching her insides as she relived all the intensity and emotion of Daisy’s short life. From her long painful entry into the world to her quick devastating exit.
How did she answer that question? She still didn’t know. No, she didn’t have kids? Because she didn’t. But it felt disloyal and like Daisy was dying all over again to deny her existence. Or admit that she had had a child once and face questions she didn’t want to face and try and find answers she wasn’t sure existed?
‘No,’ Fran said quietly, and sucked in a deep shaky breath as the pain of her denial felt like someone was gouging out chunks of her skin. No matter how much misery there had been, she would never not have had Daisy in her life.
‘Shame. They’re so precious,’ said Molly, oblivious to Fran’s pain. ‘Particularly that little miss. Her father raised her from a baby after her mother died. And when she was so sick…that was such a horrid time,’ said Polly.
Fran felt a prickle stroke down her spine and bring her out of her churning inner turmoil. She turned to the gossiping triplets despite knowing it was none of her business.
‘Poor lamb still has to take all those tablets, too. Still, at least she’s alive and if that’s what it takes…’ Dolly let her voice trail off.
Sick? Tablets? Miranda looked very well. What had happened?
‘About time she had a female in her life. David’s done a marvellous job but…sometimes a girl just needs a mother.’ Molly put the screws on this time.
Fran’s thoughts snapped back to the conversation when she realised where these meddling spinsters were heading. She’d already been a mother and it had been the most rewarding beautiful experience of her entire life.
It had also been the most excruciatingly painful, soul-destroying thing she’d ever done. And she had no wish to repeat it.
Miranda chatted away quite merrily in the car on the way home. Fran only half listened. Her mind and body were still reeling from the events of the day and the information she’d gained in the last half-hour. So, Miranda had some illness that required medication and David was a widower. It was too much information for Fran and she wished she hadn’t been privy to it at all. She wasn’t interested in the lives of her neighbours. The less she knew the better.
And she’d faced the dreaded question, the first time she’d been asked since arriving here, and was suffering the inevitable emotional fallout. She felt drained and just wanted to get home and crawl into bed. Not entertain a child.
; ‘Oh, look, there’s Fonzie,’ said a very excited Miranda, and Fran realised they were home. She pulled the car up in the driveway and Miranda exited quickly as soon as Fran turned the ignition off. She smiled, despite the torrent inside her, at the child’s zest.
Daisy had been like that. Always on the go. She would have loved a puppy, too, but Jeremy had never been a dog person and they’d always found some excuse not to. If she had only known then what she knew now, she would have got sweet, sweet Daisy her puppy and to hell with what her father had thought. But, then, hindsight was a wonderful thing.
It was five o’clock and already the last rays of daylight were fading from the sky. The air was crisp and Fran heard the waves as she alighted from the car. She inhaled a deep breath of salty air and felt the tension knotting every muscle of her body ease its grip slightly. Her face and jaw ached from so much talking and smiling and she realised how little she did these days that her muscles ached from such simple everyday activities.
Being social had not been her lot since Daisy had died. In fact, most people who knew the before and after Fran would say she’d become downright anti-social.
Fonzie leapt up onto her dress and Fran felt her tension ease further. His eager little face was so endearing and his unconditional love for her was soul-warming. She hadn’t been an easy person to love over the last couple of years and she hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it until a little black puppy had given it so willingly.
He didn’t seem to know or care about her baggage, he just loved her because she was his mistress. Because she fed him and walked him and shared her bed with him.
‘Come on, you two,’ she said, and smiled at Miranda. ‘It’s freezing. Let’s go inside.’
The warmth of the house enveloped them and Fran went straight to the fireplace, kneeling at the hearth and quickly getting a fire going.
‘Oh, I just love fires. Aren’t they marvellous, Fran?’
Fran squared her shoulders and steeled herself for the company of this girl for a little while longer. She could do this. She’d been a mother to her own little girl not that long ago after all. ‘They’re the best,’ Fran agreed, and smiled at Miranda. ‘Are you hungry?’