When You Walked Back Into My Life by Hilary Boyd Read Free Book Online Page B

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    Dorothea was sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of cornflakes on the bed table in front of her.
    ‘Morning, Dorothea.’ Flora gave her arm a quick stroke, but the old lady seemed almost alarmed to see her. She blinked nervily behind her glasses and jabbed uselessly at the cornflakes with her spoon.
    ‘Are you alright? Did you have a bad night?’ Flora enquired softly.
    The old lady stared at her. ‘I think … I did.’
    ‘Was something bothering you?’
    Mary Martin popped her head round the door. ‘See you a minute before I go?’
    Assuring Dorothea she would be back, Flora went through to the kitchen where Mary was washing up her tea mug.
    ‘Up and down like Tower Bridge she was, sometimes barely an hour in between,’ Mary told her. ‘Said she wanted to wee, but mostly she didn’t.’ She was a tall, heavily built Irish woman, with short, dyed brown hair pinned back from her face with incongruously girlie clips, usually in pink or blue. She was always dressed in a maroon fleece and black tracksuit bottoms, never bothering with a uniform dress. ‘I thought perhaps it was the fish again, but Pia said she’d given her scrambled eggs last night.’
    ‘And was she distressed?’
    ‘Like she is now. I’m not sure she slept at all.’
    Mary put her mug back in the cupboard. They all had their own particular mugs. Mary’s was a thick, blue pottery one, large and round. Flora’s was made of thin white china with ‘Mad Aunt’ written on the side in pink; Bel had given it to her for Christmas.
    ‘Do you think she’s in pain? Maybe her stomach again?’
    ‘I asked and she said no, but it’s hard to tell. I hope she’s not building up to another TIA. She doesn’t have a temperaturebut she definitely isn’t herself. I think the season change can affect old people. They see the light fade and think of winter and–’
    ‘I’ll ask Dr Kent to drop in, perhaps.’ Flora interrupted Mary before she could expand on another of her wacky theories. And no doubt the onset-of-winter speculation would have segued neatly into the need to keep the patient alive till the following summer. It was always hard to get new jobs in the winter, Mary said, because none of the nurses were taking holidays, and the patients died more often. It didn’t make sense, but that didn’t stop her repeating it on an almost daily basis.
    Mary chuckled to herself. ‘You realise I’m in love with the man, don’t you?’
    ‘Dr Kent?’
    ‘Mmm. What a dreamboat. So kind and handsome.’ Mary had had to call him out recently when Dorothea was taken ill in the night.
    Flora laughed. ‘Do you think?’
    ‘Well, don’t you?’
    ‘Never thought about him like that. But I like him, he’s brilliant with Dorothea.’
    Mary shook her head in mock despair. ‘You’ve got no taste, you. Anyway, I’d best be getting back to little Millikins.’ She yawned. ‘Christ, I’m knackered. Not used to having to workfor my living.’ She gathered her black backpack from the hall floor and went to say goodbye to her patient.
    *
    Dorothea seemed to settle down during the morning. Flora suggested she stay in bed until lunchtime, and the old lady slept. She seemed a little dazed, however, when Flora got her up and into the sitting room.
    ‘Is Peter coming?’ Dorothea asked, as Flora collected the tray with the remains of her fish, broccoli and mashed potato. She hadn’t eaten much, but Flora didn’t want to force her.
    ‘Peter?’ The old lady had never mentioned a Peter before.
    Dorothea gave a small laugh. ‘Er, you know …’ She waved her right hand in the air. ‘Is it Peter I mean … the man …’ She lapsed into silence.
    ‘Dominic? Your nephew?’ Flora suggested, but Dorothea shook her head.
    ‘No. Not him.’ The arm was up again as Flora watched her struggle with her memory.
    ‘Keith Godly …? Dr Kent?’ She couldn’t think of any other men that visited the old lady.
    Dorothea shook her head again and gave a small