Page 10 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

“Not now, Sandra. Have some empathy.”

I never got a proper chance at living, so empathy is an unknown quality.

“I can’t talk about this now. I’m at work.”

Ooh! Hark at you, the man with the new career and full of your own self-importance all of a sudden.

“Not now.”

“Are you on the phone reporting my rudeness?” The old man’s voice travelled through the slightly open back-room door. “I don’t like people who can’t say things to my face.”

Stuart rushed back into the room, hoping his face hadn’t flushed. Mr Rutherford’s expression reminded him of the headmaster at the school where he’d taught and he automatically started to grovel.

“I wasn’t on the phone. Just mumbling to myself. It’s a bad habit that kicks in when I’ve got a lot to remember. First day in a new job — there’s lots going round in my head.”

“I hope they haven’t sent me a madman. If I wanted to be among mad people I’d have gone into that home like my daughter wanted. But who wants to sit in a circle around a television at full volume all day?” He paused, as though to refuel his voice with bitterness. “If you’re working for me, I demand absolute transparency in everything. No forced happiness. If you’re having a bad time, I want to know about it. Knowing that other people have problems makes me feel better — it makes me less of an odd one out, if you see what I mean?”

Stuart nodded. This was nothing like what he’d expected and he needed to get the visit back on track. Mr Rutherford was paying for a full hour but already ten minutes had gone and Stuart hadn’t yet provided any sort of care.

“Shall we start by washing and dressing you?”

“I think I’d better use the commode first.” Mr Rutherford gestured towards what looked like a simple chair. Stuart’s father had had something similar before the bedpan. “Given enough time, I can manage by myself but since you’re here, I’m paying you and the clock is ticking, you can give me a hand.”

“Absolutely.” Stuart looked down at the old man’s feet to check that they weren’t crossed or in the wrong position for standing. “Just lean forward slightly before you start to stand.”

“I know, I know. I’m not a novice.”

When the transfer from chair to commode was complete, Stuart stepped back.

“I don’t want an audience. Would you?” Mr Rutherford made a waving gesture with his right hand. “Go get that breakfast ready that you were mithering about. And make sure the porridge is properly hot. Some of those women that come serve it lukewarm. When I complain they mutter about health and safety and burns. You better not be one of those namby-pambies as well.”

Stuart went into the kitchen and took deep breaths to calm himself before pouring milk, weighing oats and turning the dial on the microwave. This was all much harder than he’d expected. Then William called for him to come back. Stuart pulled on gloves, ready to wipe the old man and wash the commode.

“Do you watch soap operas?” William demanded.

“No.”

The microwave pinged faintly in the kitchen.

“Do you have a girlfriend or wife who watches them?”

“No.” Stuart fetched clean underwear from the drawer indicated by his client.

“Good. I can’t abide those women who come in gossiping about who’s sleeping with who and speculating what might happen next. It’s as though they believe it’s all real! If some people put as much energy into their real lives as they do into their television viewing, they’d be happier and more fulfilled.”

“Everyone’s entitled to a bit of relaxation at the end of the day and surely watching the soaps is no worse than escaping into a novel?”

William merely grunted in response.

With the old man clean and comfortable, he went to retrieve the porridge. It would have cooked and now cooled to an edible temperature.

William took a mouthful and shook his head. “I warned you and you didn’t listen. Please don’t make me ring the agency with a complaint on your first day. I want it hotter.”

The prospect of Vanessa sacking him after his first-ever client visit was dire. Stuart had to do whatever it took to make William happy. He pushed the dish back in the microwave and watched it through the glass until it was on the verge of boiling over. Then he took it out and gave it a stir.

“And don’t forget a healthy dollop of golden syrup this time.”

Stuart did as he was told and placed the bowl on the tray on William’s knee. William loaded his spoon and put it in his mouth.

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