Peppercorn Street

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘Cool name.’ With a wave of his hand he slouched off.

  She stood there motionless, gobsmacked that anyone had wanted to chat her up. As she walked away, she smiled. It was nice to feel attractive again. Maybe one day …

  She went to the crèche and they showed her a sleeping Millie who looked rosy and serene. ‘Thanks. I was just a bit, you know, worried.’

  ‘First-day syndrome. You go and enjoy yourself. We have looked after one or two babies before.’

  She ate her sandwiches sitting in a sheltered corner, finding it a bit cold, but not knowing where else to go. People were hurrying here and there. Some were standing chatting in groups. There were only one or two others on their own and they were older than her.

  Afterwards she went back to the library and began to make notes for an essay they’d been set, able to work so much more quickly without any interruptions.

  Even when she’d lived at home, she’d not been able to work so steadily, because her father had interrupted her regularly, shouting at her to make him a cup of tea if her mother was out, or even to fetch his newspaper from the next room. He was a bully and a slob, always insisting on his womenfolk waiting on him hand and foot, and once he got home he sat on the couch and only stirred to get his tea or visit the toilet.

  Sometimes she’d felt he asked her to do things on purpose to interrupt her studies. When the subject of her going to university came up, he often said that he’d never got any qualifications and it hadn’t stopped him finding a job and keeping it. Women only got married so university was a waste of time. But for some reason her mother had always stuck up for her, saying she wanted her daughter to go to uni. Her mother didn’t often stand up to him, but when she did, he backed off.

  His opposition had only made Janey more determined to do well at school, but he’d never praised her for getting straight As on her reports, just grunted and tossed it aside.

  At three o’clock she gathered her papers and books together and went to pick Millie up, feeling rested and happy in spite of a hard day’s work. She had a lot of catching up to do if she was to build on her good results so far. If she could get through more than one subject a year, that’d be great.

  And she’d meet people her own age, too. Maybe even make a friend or two.

  Was that too much to ask? Surely nothing else would go wrong?

  Winifred felt nervous all morning. Someone was coming today to check out her need for a security pendant and anything else they thought might help her. There were apparently all sorts of services to support the elderly in their own homes. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to be beholden to the authorities, but she was at a stage in life where she had to get some protection and help.

  Dawn arrived at the appointed time, bright and smiling as usual. What a lovely woman she was!

  ‘I’m so grateful to you for coming, dear.’

  ‘My pleasure. I hope one day, when I’m old, someone will help me if I need it. And besides, you’re Mum’s friend, so that makes it even more of a pleasure. She’s cheered up so much since she got to know you.’

  Winifred could feel herself flushing with pleasure and was glad when the doorbell gave her a chance to turn away.

  A man was standing on the doorstep and behind him was her nephew.

  ‘Dawn!’ she called in a panic.

  Dawn came running, saw Bradley giving them a triumphant smile and turned to the official. ‘I don’t know why you’ve brought this man here, but he’s been asked to stay away from Miss Parfitt.’

  ‘He’s her nephew and he’s worried about her.’

  Winifred felt ashamed of herself for being so weak-willed and stepped forward. ‘Well, he’s not coming into my house, not now and not at any time in the future, if I have to take out a restraining order to stop him.’ She wasn’t sure how you did that but it seemed to hit home to Bradley, who glared at her for a moment then forced a false smile on to his face.

  ‘It really would be best if your sole surviving relative joins us,’ the official said.

  She looked at him in surprise. ‘He’s not my sole surviving relative. Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘The others don’t count,’ Bradley said. ‘They haven’t been near you for years, Auntie. I’m the only one who cares about you and I’m sure this is all a mix-up. You do get confused sometimes.’

  ‘I do not get confused. And it’s my fault that I’ve not kept in touch with my other relatives but I’ve already taken steps to remedy the matter. In the meantime I have good friends like Dawn here who keep an eye on me.’

  ‘Couldn’t you just let him come in and talk, to set his mind at rest?’ The official’s tone was again that of someone talking to a rather stupid person.

  ‘No. He’s not setting foot inside my house again.’ But she was beginning to get worried about the way the two men kept looking at one another meaningfully.

  Dawn looked at the official. ‘Who are you, anyway? We haven’t seen your identity card nor do we know your name.’

  ‘My name’s Hersen.’ He fumbled in his pocket. ‘I must have – um, forgotten my ID card. Ring the council offices and ask them if they know a Hersen.’

  ‘I certainly shall. In the meantime, you’d better come back another time when you do have ID with you. And this time, make an appointment first.’ She started to shut the door and he put out one hand to stop her. She looked at him in amazement. ‘Excuse me!’

  ‘Please go away, Mr Hersen,’ Winifred said. ‘This is my house and I say who comes in.’

  From the look her previously loving nephew gave her, Bradley was getting very angry indeed.

  Dawn took the opportunity to shut the door. ‘Shall we ring up the council and ask if they know a Mr Hersen? It’s strange, but I’ve never known an official try to get into someone’s house without an ID card.’

  ‘I’ll check the letter I received first. It’ll have the phone number on it.’ Winifred led the way into the kitchen and took out the letter from the council. As she read it, she looked at Dawn in shock. ‘This says a Ms Mary Hersen will be coming to see me today. Ms not Mr.’

  ‘Ring the number they give for enquiries. Do you want me to speak to them for you?’

  ‘No. I can do that myself, but I may need you to corroborate what I say.’ It took her a long time to get through to the correct department – did they think ratepayers had unlimited time to wait around while they played idiotic music in their ears? – but she didn’t hang up. This was too important.

  When she explained why she was calling, there was silence, then the woman at the other end of the line said, ‘But you wrote to cancel the appointment.’

  ‘I most certainly did not.’

  ‘I have your letter here. It has your signature on it. Perhaps you’ve forgotten.’

  ‘And perhaps someone else wrote that letter. Excuse me for a moment.’ She explained to Dawn what had happened.

  ‘Can I speak to her?’

  ‘Dawn Potter here. I’m a friend of Miss Parfitt and I can assure you that she is in complete possession of her faculties. If she said she didn’t write to you, I believe her. She’s currently having trouble with her nephew and is about to see her lawyer about him. If your letter has what looks like her signature on it, she’ll need to change the way she signs her name, as well.’

  She listened, nodding. ‘Yes, terrible. So we’ll be down to see you in ten minutes. Thank you so much for sparing us the time. It’s much appreciated.’

  She turned to Winifred. ‘I’m sorry to have taken over and made arrangements without consulting you, but I’ve had a lot of practice at dealing with bureaucracies. Now, we’d better go there and check this letter that supposedly has your signature on it. I’ll drive you there and back.’

  ‘I’m very grateful for your help.’

  ‘It’s my pleasure. I can’t bear the way some people treat the elderly.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Various older celebrities are trying to do something about that and I hope the Dignity in Care Campaign
makes a difference. Sometimes systems and carers don’t allow old people any dignity or choice. It’s rather a thing of mine, after seeing the way some officials have tried to treat Mum. And now you. Is the house locked up at the back? Right. Get your coat and handbag and we’ll go and see this Ms Hersen.’

  At the council offices, Dawn parked the car, winked at Winifred and led the way inside. She was known by one or two people and greeted cordially. Within two minutes they were being shown into an office.

  After they’d introduced themselves, Dawn sat back. ‘I’ll let Miss Parfitt speak for herself, which she’s well able to do.’

  Winifred explained what had happened, answered questions about why she had turned against her nephew, then asked to see the letter cancelling the appointment. She studied it then showed it to Dawn.

  ‘This is very like my signature, but I definitely didn’t write this letter.’

  ‘Would you do me a signature now?’ Mary asked.

  She did so and they compared them.

  ‘It is very alike,’ Mary said. ‘What worries me is how they knew you had an appointment in the first place, or that it was with me. Did you tell your nephew about it?’

  ‘Definitely not.’

  She pursed her lips. ‘Then either someone has been intercepting your mail or we have a person in the office prepared to sell information – which is not unknown in local bureaucracies, unfortunately.’

  Winifred sighed. ‘Either way, I’d better go to the bank and change my signature. I’ve already cancelled the enduring power of attorney vested in my nephew.’

  ‘Indeed yes, and the quicker the better. Have you any idea what signature you’ll use? Ah. Good idea. And if it’s all right, I’ll come and see you at home this afternoon, Miss Parfitt, with a pendant. I can see that it’s urgent for you to be able to summon help.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Winifred looked at them both and they were two women of such obvious goodwill that she confided, ‘I can’t believe this is happening. My life was boring and uneventful for years, then suddenly it’s one thing after another, most of them good, but now this!’

  Dawn smiled at her as they walked out. ‘You did well there. She didn’t need convincing that you’re in full possession of your faculties. No one would have doubted you, listening to you explain things so succinctly. Which bank are you with? Oh, good. We can walk there from here.’

  ‘I’m taking too much of your time.’

  ‘I’m giving my time willingly. I believe what goes around, comes around.’

  Winifred had to blink her eyes again and sniff rather inelegantly to clear the tears that threatened.

  After explaining to the bank manager what was happening and registering a new signature, they went on to the lawyer’s office, where Winifred also changed her signature and then created a new power of attorney naming her lawyer, whom she trusted absolutely.

  As they came out, Dawn smiled at her. ‘A good morning’s work, don’t you think? This calls for a cup of tea and a piece of cake to celebrate. Let’s go round to Mum’s. She loves visitors to drop in.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  Paul sat beside Mrs Makepeace in the hospital waiting area. They’d taken his father away and he felt very much alone, in spite of the kindness of the woman sitting beside him.

  ‘I’m sorry for taking up your time,’ he said.

  She smiled at him. ‘It’s an emergency. No one’s fault. And call me Sally. I always think it’s my mother-in-law if someone says “Mrs Makepeace”.’

  ‘Sally.’ He stared at the floor, kicking the heel of his trainer against it. ‘Dad should have gone to a doctor sooner, you know. He and Mum kept having rows about that. They were always arguing towards the end, except when they weren’t speaking to one another.’

  ‘That must have been hard for you.’

  He nodded, his throat suddenly feeling too full to force any more words out.

  ‘And your brother? How long has he been acting up?’

  That was easier to talk about. ‘Years. But when I was little, he mostly ignored me and hung out with older boys. He only started being really gross last summer after he got in with a new crowd, grown-ups mostly. He looks like a grown-up too, he’s so big, but he hasn’t grown up inside his head. I don’t think his friends know he’s not eighteen yet. And … I think they’re dealing in steroids or body-building drugs of some sort. He always needs money and it doesn’t last.’

  Paul looked at a poster on the wall opposite, which was just a blur because of the tears brimming in his eyes. ‘Those guys seem to hate women, from the rubbish William’s been spouting ever since he joined them. He’s been really rude to Mum and he won’t help in the house. He won’t even pick up his own clothes.’

  When Sally made an encouraging noise and continued to look interested, Paul went on talking, feeling relieved to be telling someone.

  ‘William’s been punching me sometimes, not where it’d show. He used to take my lunch money till I started hiding it in my shoe. He’s way out of control. My parents argued about him as well, because Dad wouldn’t even try to sort him out and Mum couldn’t. And then—’

  ‘I’m sorry to interrupt but I think they want us,’ she said gently. ‘We’ll go on talking later.’ She led the way to the desk.

  The woman there asked him all sorts of questions about his father, most of which he couldn’t answer, then she turned to Sally. ‘We need an adult member of the family to deal with this.’

  ‘Do you know where your mother is?’ Sally asked.

  Paul hesitated, then nodded. ‘I’ve got her mobile number. Should I ring her?’

  ‘I think you’d better.’

  ‘If she’s at work, she may not answer.’

  ‘In that case, we’ll ring the library.’

  But his mother did pick up the call. The sound of her voice made him want to weep in relief. ‘Mum, it’s me and I—’ It was a moment before he could continue, then he said in a rush, ‘Dad’s in hospital and they need to speak to an adult about him.’

  ‘What?’

  He lost it then and as tears started rolling down his cheeks, he handed the phone to Sally, wiping away the tears with his sleeve and trying in vain to stop more leaking out.

  Nicole listened in horror to what Sally told her. ‘I’ll come straight away.’

  She switched off the phone and looked at Kieran, wondering if she dared ask him to go with her. ‘It’s Sam. He’s in hospital and he’s not fully conscious. There’s only Paul there, so I have to go.’

  ‘I’ll drive you. You’ve still got a blinding headache, haven’t you?’

  She’d learnt by now not to nod. ‘Yes. And those painkillers make me muzzy-headed. Are you sure you’re all right to drive? I could get a taxi.’

  ‘Of course I’ll drive you there.’

  They travelled in silence. She had a pillow behind her head to soften the impact of any jolting around, but the movement of the car as it stopped and started, turned corners and slowed down still hurt. When they got there, she was relieved to find they could park close to the entrance, in a disabled bay.

  As they walked into the hospital, Kieran looked at her in concern. ‘You’ve not got a vestige of colour in your cheeks. You’re not going to keel over on me, are you?’

  ‘No.’

  They were ushered into a little side room and Paul jerked to his feet at the sight of his mother.

  As he was about to rush over to her, Kieran put out one hand to stop him. ‘Don’t jolt her. She’s got a bad cut on her head and any sudden movement hurts.’

  Nicole tried to smile reassuringly at her son, clasping his hand and giving it a squeeze. ‘Sorry, Paul. Consider yourself hugged.’

  ‘I didn’t realise he’d hurt you so badly. Me and Dad heard about William attacking you and we came to the hospital, but you’d left, so I thought you must be all right. Only you weren’t at your flat. Where were you?’

  ‘In a spare bedroom at my place,’ Kieran said. ‘She was afraid to go bac
k to the flat in case your brother turned up again. Sit down, Nicole, before you keel over.’

  She sank down on the seat next to her son and reached out for his hand to give it a quick squeeze. Paul introduced Sally, who then took over and explained the situation.

  ‘Now that you’re here, Mrs Gainsford, the doctor wants to talk to you about your husband.’

  ‘Thank you for your help,’ Nicole said automatically.

  Even as she spoke there was a tap on the door and a tired-looking man in a crumpled white coat came in. He looked at Nicole, frowning slightly.

  ‘I’m Mrs Gainsford.’

  ‘Didn’t I attend to you last night?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How’s the head?’

  ‘A bit better but still throbbing.’

  ‘You really should have stayed in hospital overnight.’

  ‘I was afraid to.’

  He picked up her wrist, took her pulse then shone a light into each eye in turn. ‘The concussion seems to have cleared up at any rate. I was going to suggest you continue to take it easy, but with your husband here and in such a serious condition we need you around.’

  ‘Shall I wait outside?’ Sally stood up. ‘You may want to be private for this.’

  ‘Don’t go!’ Paul said. ‘Please.’

  Sally looked at Nicole, head cocked in a question.

  ‘Yes, do stay.’ She turned back to the doctor. ‘Have you found out what’s wrong with my husband, doctor? He’s been having these headaches for a long time and lately he’s started acting strangely. I’ve been trying to get him to see a doctor since last year, when it first began. I left him a couple of weeks ago, so I’ve not seen him since then. He sounds to have got worse rapidly.’

  The doctor hesitated then said quietly, ‘It might have been better if he’d seen a doctor a while ago, but the outcome would probably have been the same in the long term. We think he’s got a brain tumour, a glioma this sort is called, and I’m afraid they’re inoperable.’