A Rock and a High Place

by Dan Mooney

  The sale, however, had been the turning point for her, for which Joel was grateful. Since then things had been picking up. She had even met someone. Joel was pleased for her, even if he thought Tony was a gigantic ass of a man.

  “Good now, love,” he told her with a smile. “How’s Tony?”

  “He’s fine. He was asking after you.”

  Joel was fairly certain he had not been.

  “Oh yeah? Tell him to come up next time. I’d love to see him.”

  Joel would not love to see Tony.

  Eva smiled at her father, surprised by his unusually pleasant demeanour.

  “I heard about poor Mr. Miller,” she told him sympathetically. “You must have been devastated?”

  He could still see the tiny body rocking up and down as Angelica tried to beat the life back into it.

  “It was his time, I suppose,” Joel told her, nodding to reinforce his point, desperately trying not to think of the little skeleton in the bed, pulverised, its meagre hold on life long gone. His ghost now wandering Hilltop like all the other ghosts.

  “Just his time is all,” Joel repeated casually.

  Eva was looking at him in surprise; even Lily had put down her phone to examine him. This was not the same Grandpa Joel that she remembered from two weeks before. The last time it had been her turn to visit. Joel felt a wave of regret. He must have been ruder than he thought to startle them so much with a couple of soft words. He tried to think of something else to say. Nothing came, so he sat into the small armchair in the corner of the room and picked up his tea, just to have something to do.

  The awkwardness descended on them, and Lily went back into her phone. Eva stood there looking at him.

  Before it could get any worse, Frank sauntered in, fully dressed under his dressing gown and sporting a black-and-red scarf in twirling patterns.

  “Well now,” he said, turning his charm up to ten. “What on earth did you do to deserve so lovely a pair of visitors, Joel old boy?”

  The tension in the room evaporated in his presence, his air of general calm dissipating it with ease. He smiled his old smile at them and extended a hand.

  “Eva,” Joel’s daughter told him, returning the smile. “Eva Monroe.”

  “Monroe suggests that you’re the daughter he told me so much about, but your beauty suggests that your mother must have dallied with the postman, since you couldn’t possibly be this old creature’s child.”

  It was his delivery that Joel reckoned he would never be able to emulate. From anyone else this would have seemed smarmy, but his easiness and obvious charm defused the words, making them soft, lovely and funny. Eva laughed at him, and Lily put her phone down again.

  “And who might you be?” Eva asked, almost mimicking Frank’s grandiose tone.

  “Frank de Selby,” he told her, kissing her hand. Even his voice had changed, a warmth in it, a tone of confidence and friendliness. He sounded like a different person.

  Lily stepped forward, to introduce herself. Joel was struck again by how adult she had become, and he felt his ancientness from his toes to the tips of his almost fully gray hair. She was twenty-two, tall, stylish, borderline overdressed, with the same dark brown hair that Joel used to have, and her grandmother’s wide toothy smile.

  “Now you on the other hand,” Frank began, appraising her, “have managed to inherit only the best parts of your grandfather, and have none of his obvious deficiencies.”

  “You think I look like Grandpa Joel?” Lily asked with a smile.

  “Only the handsome parts of him, my dear,” Frank replied, kissing her hand also.

  It should have been cloying, it should have seemed false and perverse, it should have made them uncomfortable, and yet they were disarmed.

  “Lily,” Joel’s granddaughter told him. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “And you my dear. I am the misfortune that’s been assigned to live in the same room as the snoring machine you call a grandfather.”

  “Well, that’s nice,” Eva said without thinking.

  “Debatable,” Joel told her.

  “Nonsense. He’s very fond of me deep down,” Frank said.

  They both looked skeptical.

  “I was hoping,” Frank continued, “to take him for a pint in the local bar hereabouts this evening, to see if some stout might mellow him in any way, shape or form, but he tells me that you are the gatekeeper for such things.”

  Eva looked taken off guard. The charm offensive Frank had planned might have worked on someone else, and it was clear that she was impressed with him, but Eva Monroe was a formidable woman, and all the charm in the world couldn’t change her mind once she set it.

  “I’m not so sure,” she replied dubiously. “Liam tells me you’ve not been yourself lately, Dad, and I think he’s a little worried. Mrs. Ryan said you had a shouting match with her last week.”

  There it was. Joel felt his excitement and optimism vanish as he realised he was to be punished for bad behaviour.

  “It was nothing,” he protested. “Just a minor disagreement.”

  “Mrs. Clarke said she was becoming a little concerned, too. Though she did say that you had been in much better form lately.”

  “I’m fine, Eva,” Joel told her. He tried to sound as reassuring as possible. He tried to sound reasonable. Calm. He tried, and failed.

  “You don’t seem it, Dad,” she told him with a concerned look. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

  Out of the corner of his eye he could see Frank wince, and retreat a step. He was a quick study. A quicker study than Joel’s own daughter. He could see the signs of Joel’s temper beginning to fray.

  “I don’t seem it, do I not?” he asked, with deceptive mildness. “Is my word that I’m fine not good enough?”

  “It’s not like that, Dad. I just want to know if something’s wrong. Last time you were out and about you had a stroke in the middle of a pub. They all thought you had dropped dead, do you remember?”

  How could he forget? It was highly embarrassing. Someone had started to try performing CPR without checking to see if he was actually breathing or not.

  “It was only a tiny stroke, and I don’t see how that’s got anything to do with anything,” he told her through clenched teeth. “The point is that I’m a grown man capable of making my own damn decisions, and you’re treating me like a child.”

  Frank looked horrified at the words “tiny stroke,” but he tried to cover it up.

  “You wouldn’t take your pills last Monday and threw a temper tantrum,” Eva told him, her cool begging to slip. “If you don’t want to be treated like a child, try not acting like one.”

  “I will not be held prisoner in here…” Joel urged.

  “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. You’re not a prisoner, Dad. For Christ’s sake, this place is the lap of luxury!”

  “Oh, it is, is it?” he asked, infuriated now. “Then why is there a combination lock on my door that I don’t know the code to? Why am I locked in here at night? Why does that nurse have to force pills down my throat? Hmm? Lap of luxury, my arse.”

  “That’s for your own safety and you know it.”

  “Safety? What exactly are these people trying to protect me from? What dreadful threat is waiting out in the hallways that a locked door is going to keep me safe from? Do they think a locked door can keep a stroke out?”

  Eva stared at him furiously. She had no answer, not that it mattered. Joel knew he wasn’t getting out. She simply wasn’t going to allow it.

  “How about I come up next week with Tony and we take you out for a bite to eat?” she asked, trying to modify her voice to sound more reasonable.

  Dinner with Tony was not what Joel might have called a consolation. A chore, a punishment, an atonement, penance. These were all closer to the mark.

  “Fine,” Joel told her anyway, through clenched teeth. Maybe Frank wasn’t kidding about trying to walk out the gate.

  It was irrelevant anyway. If he co
uld think of something clever and profound enough, he wouldn’t even be alive next week. Even through his impotent fury there was a small thrill at the idea of taking a shortcut to life’s exit. Freedom from this, the safety of a locked door at night and from the relentlessness of a daughter who trusted him not a jot.

  He sulked in his chair. He knew it was sulking, and he knew it was unbecoming and that it played right into the idea that he was behaving like a child, but he didn’t care. As he withdrew from the conversation, Frank filled the void with his gentle banter and considerate, polite questions.

  “How did you meet Tony? Oh, very nice. What does he do for a living? How very interesting. Do you drive a nice car? Isn’t that great. Is the neighbourhood you live in nice? Well, how wonderful. Any plans for the summer?”

  It was all so banal and pleasant. Eva was calming down, clearly grateful for the presence of the charming Mr. de Selby. He didn’t stop at Eva either, but probed at Lily, too.

  “How’s university? Hmm, I’m sure. What did you study? Fascinating, absolutely fascinating. Where are the cool nightclubs these days? I see, I see.”

  She answered him with an interest that Joel found disconcerting. It was a little alarming for him to see how much his family clearly enjoyed the company of his new friend. They hadn’t enjoyed a trip to Hilltop this much since Lucey was alive.

  Eventually they left, after an excruciatingly long conversation with Frank during which Joel had to continue sulking, bidding their goodbyes with promises of a trip to a restaurant the following week. They were no sooner out the door when Frank was up and moving.

  “Let’s go, you can sulk later,” he barked with urgency.

  He was spry, moving quickly for a man who must have been in his early seventies, grabbing both of their coats as he headed for the hallway.

  “Where are we going?” Joel asked as followed.

  “Out to dinner with your family,” Frank told him

  Chapter Seven

  “What?” Joel asked him, confused.

  “Just shut up and follow my lead.”

  Frank stepped behind one of the doors midway down the corridor and, poking his head out, checked for sentries. Joel stepped in behind him. There was a furtiveness to Frank’s movements that was almost alarming.

  “What are we doing?” Joel asked in a whisper.

  “We need to get out the front door without them seeing our coats,” Frank told him in a low voice.

  “Why?”

  “We just do. Can you shut up for a minute?”

  Down the corridor one of the nurses crossed from the main reception into the common room, and as soon as she passed from sight, Frank was moving again, down past the reception in a brisk walk with Joel stepping guiltily behind him.

  “Can you try to look more relaxed, please?” Frank asked him in exasperation.

  “I’m not a retired professional liar,” Joel replied irritably.

  They stopped just short of the reception, located in a recess a mere ten feet from the front door. Frank checked around the corner. Joel watched behind them.

  Fishing in his pocket, Frank produced a mobile phone and his fingers flicked over the touch screen with a familiarity that Joel found surprising. He pressed the phone to his ear. Around the corner, the telephone in the main reception rang, and as it did, Frank grabbed a startled Joel and hauled him along on quick, quiet feet.

  At the reception, Angelica stood from her seat and turned to answer the phone behind her. She missed the two elderly men sweeping past her and out the front door.

  “Hello?” she said into the phone.

  Frank clicked off the mobile as they stepped into the early evening sunshine looking very smug and pleased with himself.

  The theatrics were probably unnecessary, the secrecy irrelevant, but Frank put such gusto into it that Joel found himself carried along by the enthusiasm. He checked both sides as they darted out the door; in fact he was so busy looking side to side that he almost plowed into Una Clarke, who had materialised from thin air and startled both of them.

  “Hello, gents,” she said pleasantly.

  Frank looked less smug but smiled at her, his best smile, aiming for relaxed and confident. Joel just stood there, looking guilty.

  “Going somewhere?” she asked with a smile.

  “Yes,” Frank told her casually. “Joel’s daughter has graciously invited us to dinner on this fine May Sunday.”

  “Mmm,” Una said, a smile playing about the edges of her lips. “Do the staff know?”

  “Not yet,” Frank told her carefully. “But they will soon.”

  “Better get moving then,” Una said. “You don’t want to be late for dinner.” She was eying the coats in Frank’s arms, one eyebrow raised slightly. She knew.

  Frank nodded politely to her, while Joel grimaced, and the two made their way out into the garden.

  “The front gate is that way, you know,” Joel told Frank as they picked up the small gravel path that led to the back of the garden, up at the top of the hill behind the main house.

  “We have a phone call to make first,” Frank told him.

  They picked a spot on a stone bench at the back of the garden, hidden from view of the house by the tall trees that circled the expansive property.

  Frank cleared his throat. His face changed, his lips pinching as he got into character and dialed again.

  “Yes, hello there. My name is Tony Patterson, I’m Eva Monroe’s partner. Yes, very well thank you. Oh good, that’s wonderful. Is it possible for me to speak to the supervising nurse today?”

  The voice coming out of his mouth was barely recognisable as Frank’s. It could have been a different person. Joel looked at him in alarm when he asked for the supervisor. It might well have been The Rhino. He opened his mouth to protest, and Frank shushed him with a flapping hand.

  “Mr. Dwight, how do you do? Tony Patterson here, Eva Monroe’s partner. How are you this evening?” He paused and Joel could faintly hear Nurse Liam’s voice as he replied. “Oh delighted. That’s great news. Eva was telling me that there was a bit of a row last Monday, and that Joel’s spirits have been a little low lately.” He paused again. “Mmm. Mmm-hmm. I see. Of course. We were discussing it on the phone just a moment ago, and we both think that Joel and his handsome friend Frank de Selby might benefit from joining us for dinner.”

  He actually called himself handsome. Joel stifled a laugh despite his nervousness.

  “That’s right. If you don’t mind I’ll pop over and collect him right now? Okay. Excellent. Not to worry. We’ll have them back before night. I’ll tell them to wait for us down at the gate. Okay, many thanks. Yes. Thank you. Bye bye.”

  Frank smiled triumphantly.

  “Hard part done,” Frank told him jubilantly.

  “Keep your gay pants on,” Joel replied, trying to smother his own exuberance. “How are we going to get Tony to come and collect us?”

  “We’re not,” Frank told him, dialing again.

  “Oh. Okay. We’re not. Any time you feel like letting me in on the scheme I’d love to hear all about it.”

  Frank’s flair for the dramatic was showing. His face opened up into a mysterious smile. A smirk, actually.

  He was nervous, all the way down to his toes. They’d duped the staff. Sure, Frank had made the phone call, but Joel was an accessory, and they’d used his daughter and her irritating boyfriend as pawns. It could yet all go wrong. Joel wasn’t sure if he didn’t want it to go all wrong. The practical man inside him abhorred the duplicity of the plan, and the fact that his daughter, stubborn and unrelenting as she was, had been somehow implicated didn’t sit right with him.

  A much louder internal voice overrode the first one. Get out of here for a while, it said.

  “Good afternoon,” Frank spoke into the phone. It was his own voice again, but with some added authority. “I need a car, but not just any car. I need a silver Primera. Do you have one? Excellent. I need a pickup at Hilltop Nursing Home. You know the on
e? Very good. Now this next bit is crucially important—when your driver gets here and buzzes at the front gate, I need him to tell the nurse that his name is Tony Patterson. Is that clear? Tony Patterson. No one gets paid unless Tony Patterson comes to collect. Excellent. I thank you.”

  He clicked off the phone call and looked at Joel with a bright, mischievous grin.

  “Shall we go and wait for Tony?” he asked.

  Who did you phone?”

  “Tony,” Frank replied glibly.

  “No you didn’t.”

  “I phoned a car company. Don’t be such a Nervous Nelly all the time,” Frank grinned at him mischievously.

  Joel found himself grinning back, a bundle of excitement mixed with a tingling of fear. It had been one year and six months since he’d been outside without a chaperone or supervisor. One year and six months of being under the watchful eye of a pack of people who treated him like a child. There was no way he was stopping now.

  “Let’s go,” he said, rising to his feet with purpose.

  The two of them made their way back down the garden, this time taking up the main driveway toward the gate. They passed Una en route, and she smiled at them and shook her head. Joel made a mental note not to underestimate her again. She was sharper than ever he had realised. As they walked he kept expecting someone to shout at them. Nurse Liam or Angelica maybe, running out the door and calling them back with admonishing words and condescending tones, but no one came. All the way down the drive the two of them walked, grinning from ear to ear until they sat down on the bench at the front gate.

  Joel hardly dared to speak even when the silver Primera rolled up to the gate and the driver leaned out and pressed the buzzer. He almost held his breath until the gate doors swung open and the car rolled in. Both he and Frank stood as the car pulled up alongside them.