False Advertising by Dianne Blacklock Read Free Book Online Page B

perfect right.
    â€˜I’ll manage,’ Helen replied, which was close to the truth. There had been a modest payout from David’s superannuation fund, and she was eligible for some government benefits. If she only had herself and Noah to worry about . . .
    â€˜And what about your mother?’ Jim insisted.
    There was the rub. David and Helen paid Marion’s fees in the nursing home in lieu of board for living in her house. It was David who had originally encouraged Helen to place her mother in care, out of nothing less than concern and regard for the both of them. Their courtship had been floundering; David was persistent, but Helen was always making excuses not to go out with him. She didn’t know how to tell him about her mother, and it was becoming more and more difficult to leave her alone. Helen had fought for the maximum respite care, but even that was paltry, and so she’d cut her hours at the hospital. But it wasn’t enough. Marion could no longer be trusted nearthe stove, having burned the base out of nearly every pot they owned, as well as the electric kettle after she’d put it to boil on the gas element. She had let the bath overflow twice, and another time Helen had come home from a late shift to find the hose on full bore in the backyard, thrashing about like an angry snake. And lately she had taken to wandering. It was not like the old days in Balmain, when everyone knew one another, the shopkeepers called you by name and neighbours looked out for the kids playing on the streets. A time when roaming Alzheimer’s sufferers would have been safe.
    Marion was becoming a danger to herself and potentially to others, and Helen was out of ideas and overwhelmed. David had eventually wheedled the truth out of her and insisted on meeting Marion. They hit it off immediately. Helen wondered if he reminded her somehow of Tony, or if it was simply that she enjoyed the novelty of male company. There had certainly been a dearth of that for some time. Helen had lost most of her twenties looking after her mother, and she would have spent the next decade in much the same way if David had not come along. He said he didn’t mind whether they went out or not, he just wanted to be with her. He even sat with Marion some nights when Helen had to work. And gradually, respectfully, David began to point out the hopelessness of the situation. Marion needed round-the-clock supervision; sooner or later, she would have to go into care. And it was getting sooner by the day.
    Helen had finally been persuaded by common sense, but insisted that if it had to be done, she was going to do it right. With David’s help, she set about thoroughly researching every facility within a reasonable distance: staffing, accommodation, programs, standard of care. They fronted up for inspections armed with checklists, grilled the staff, requested references. Helen would not allow her mother to languish in a substandard anteroom for people waiting to die. She was finally won over by the warmth of the staff at Brookhaven, the location, and the pretty aspect from most of the rooms. Marion would like that.
    She just had to persuade Tony.
    â€˜Are you absolutely sure she needs to be in a home?’ he asked on the phone from London.
    Helen groaned inwardly. ‘No, maybe not, Tony, if you want to come out and look after her –’
    â€˜Oh, and how do you propose I do that?’
    â€˜Go to the airport and get on a plane to Australia. I hear Qantas is good.’
    â€˜Very funny.’
    Helen wasn’t trying to be funny. The unpalatable truth was that Tony seemed more worried about his inheritance than the plight of his mother. And finally that was enough to get him on a plane home in an attempt to sort it out. The issue was how they were going to pay for a facility of this standard. Helen was disinclined to sell the house, holding onto a vague, she knew irrational, hope that her mother might get