by Gil Brailey
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Faith had not seen Nick. In all the time she had been squatting at Renfield Road he hadn’t shown up once. At first she had been disappointed in this, but when her offer had been accepted and when she knew she would be living at Renfield Road as the new and rightful owner, she found herself not really caring too much about it, because she knew she would see him at some point.
Two months later, setting out some food for the foxes right at the end of the garden, she looked up towards the house to see him, standing at the window of the living room. She waved but he didn’t respond and by the time she had run up the steps to the kitchen and dived into the living room to find him, he had gone. She called his name again and again, running up the stairs to the attic, checking all the bedrooms, but there was no sign. She found herself so disappointed she started to cry and once she started she found she couldn’t stop. It was then she decided she should make her own enquiries about this mysterious Nick, who had been so instrumental in her buying Renfield Road, and who she realised she didn’t really know a thing about.
Nick was right, she decided, as she made her way down the winding corridor of the care home on Dalston High Road, to a room at the back of the building, tucked away between the linen cupboard, and a small utility area, Sunnyside Care Home certainly had its own pervading aroma and it wasn’t pleasant. The name Edward Harker was pinned to the door, so she knocked and entered. Edward was lying back in bed, paper thin skin wrapped round his skeletal frame, huge milky eyes staring out into the room, unseeing. Just as Faith was about to embark on some kind of introduction, a jolly nurse burst in.
“Oh! I didn’t know you had a visitor, Edward,” she said. “That’s nice.”
“I’m a friend of Nick’s,” said Faith, in explanation.
At the mention of the name, Edward gasped. “No,” he managed to shout out, “no… not here, not here…”
“It’s alright, Edward, don’t you trouble yourself now,” said the nurse, then turning to Faith, saying: “you might be better coming back when his son’s here, he’s not that comfortable with visitors is our Edward.” Moving up to stand right at his side, and taking his hand, the nurse said: “Are you lovey? Are you Edward, love… I’m just saying, maybe this lady should come back when Henry’s here… what d’you think about that?”
“Henry,” said Edward, “Henry and Margaret.”
“No, just Henry, Edward, remember… not Margaret.”
“When does he come, usually?” said Faith on her way to the door.
“Saturdays, always Saturdays, early in the afternoon.”