Page 8 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

You’re making a mountain out of a molehill. It’s not a date. Just two friends meeting for a chat.

Itwasa mountain. Sandra didn’t understand. He hadn’t socialised properly for decades. He had no job. Soon his home would be gone. In their previous life, Jayne had had little patience with time-wasting drifters. As soon as she got the full picture about Stuart Borefield’s current life, she would run a mile. He wasn’t strong enough to take a second rejection by her.

Lillian has been good to you. You owe it to her at least to make that call.

“I will do it when I have a plan! Go away and let me think.”

First on the list was a job. He searched online for ‘How to get back into teaching geography after twenty-five years’. The Geographical Association’s website indicated that there’d been a lot of changes in the classroom and recommended prospective returners should visit aGeography Quality Mark schoolas well as catching up on the revised geography National Curriculum and the GCSE and A-level specifications, plus returners might also need to update their geography subject knowledge to teach some of the new content. And then there would be all the hassle of finding a vacancy. His meagre confidence shrivelled further at the enormity of all these tasks after the years spent in relative solitude with his father. And even if facing a room of thirty teenagers didn’t make his knees quake, getting back into the classroom wasn’t going to be a quick process.

Stuart needed to start generating an income now. He needed to cast his net wider. His only other ‘work’ experience was in caring. But despite all that time at his father’s bedside, he had no proof of his competence at that. Twenty-five years and not even a certificate. Even so, it still seemed more likely to produce a fast positive result than returning to teaching — that might be something for later, when he felt like a proper human being again.

He searched the internet for local care agencies. It wasn’t difficult to find a vacancy nearby that he could apply for:

Experience is not essential for this role. We provide specialised induction training plus ongoing support, training and guidance.

Stuart composed a letter of application, attached his meagre CV and emailed it. He was invited for an interview that same afternoon. This was both good and bad; there was no time to lose his nerve but also no time to source a proper interview outfit, decide where he wanted to be in five years’ time and concoct a textbook reason for why he suddenly wanted to be a carer so late in life.

“Male carers are particularly in demand,” Veronica, the manager of the Primo Care Agency explained. “Caring is seen, unfairly, as a menial job that leads nowhere. And, therefore, most men won’t even consider it. But most agency owners, like me, started off making house calls and worked our way up. Caring is generous with its job satisfaction and the routes upwards are there if you want them.”

Stuart nodded.

“So, you cared for your father. Tell me more about that.”

It was the first time Stuart had gone into detail about everything he’d had to do for his father with anyone. His brothers had always looked as though they were about to throw up if he’d so much as mentioned a bedpan. The doctor and district nurse had never had the time to listen; they’d only been interested if something had been wrong. He told Veronica about giving his father a shave every other day. He’d tried to encourage his dad to do it himself using an electric shaver but Eric had liked a wet shave and hadn’t been able to manage it with the tremor in his hand. Next, Stuart moved on to the bed-bath routine, glancing at Veronica to see if her eyes were glazing over yet. Stuart was enjoying himself. For years, this major part of his life had been a taboo subject and now, finally, it merited attention. Detailed attention. He imagined this might be how it felt on a therapist’s couch, able to suddenly vocalise everything that had been building inside but couldn’t be adequately shared with anyone else. He could’ve talked for hours but Veronica interrupted him.

“I’m impressed. Your father was a lucky man.”

Stuart tried to shrug modestly. He’d forgotten about his left shoulder and had to hide the wince of pain.

“I assume you have a car and are entitled to work in the UK?”

Stuart nodded and put his passport on the table as proof. The document had never been out of the country but he’d renewed it every ten years in a gesture of hope.

“I’ll need to get an enhanced DBS check done. As soon as that’s in place we’ll arrange a start date. There’s an elderly gentleman on our books for whom you’d be brilliant. He funds his care privately and is happy to pay for double-length visits because he wants companionship as well as care. He gets on OK with our ladies, but I think having another man to talk to would make all the difference.”

Even sitting down, Stuart felt as though he was growing in height. His shoulders went back and, without being bidden, his lips curved into a smile.

“What do you think? Will that suit you?”

Stuart realised she wanted an answer and he couldn’t just bask in the glow of being wanted.

“Perfect.” There was a pleasant vision of satisfactory if not extravagant financial independence in his mind. Then Sandra walked all over it.

Don’t be so easily pleased. You are a marketable commodity. Don’t undersell yourself. If you don’t reach for the moon, you won’t even get a single star. Remember when you had the courage to apply for Head of Geography even though you’d only been in post a few years? That ambition must still be inside you somewhere.

He didn’t get Head of Geography, but it had been important to be seen to be ambitious, ready for future opportunities. Now, sitting in front of Veronica, it wasn’t easy to rediscover the flame that had once burned so brightly. “How long will the DBS check take? I’d like to start as soon as possible.”

That’s not what I meant. Ask about the money.

“Usually only a couple of days, which gives us time to get you kitted out with our polo shirts and aprons.” She pointed to the Primo care logo stitched just beneath the left shoulder of her pale blue top. “Plus I need to show you the app we have for recording the notes about each visit. It means relatives can access the notes remotely.”

Stuart nodded and then swallowed hard. “Obviously, I need to know about the money.”

“Obviously.” Veronica smiled at him. “I would have to start you on minimum wage and take it from there.”

Stuart started to nod but Sandra’s demanding voice wouldn’t leave his head.

Ask her for more. Male carers are in demand and she’s got a client with money lined up for you.

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