Page 45 of Summer Escapes on the Scottish Isle

Anyway, knowing the speed at which local authorities moved, he’d have been back on his feet for months by the time anyone came to measure up. Plus, he would probably be discharged tomorrow, so all these adaptations would be installed far too late to be of any use to him. And would he want any of them anyway?

One of those electric riser chairs might be a good idea, though, and while she was eating a hastily prepared lunch, Freya looked online to see what was available and how quickly she could get hold of one.

Not quickly enough, it seemed. None of the websites she visited had anything available immediately. The shortest lead time was three weeks, the longest twelve. Her dad needed it now, if it was to be of any use to him.

Trawling an online auction site gave her more joy, although she didn’t particularly want to bid on one then have to wait until she knew whether she’d won the item.

Shelving that for a moment, she went on to see what else might help him during the first few weeks at home, and before she knew it, she had purchased a bath seat that swivelled, a raised loo seat, a couple of handrails (and a special curved one for the stairs), and several other bits and pieces which she thought may come in handy.

No doubt her dad would shout at her when he saw them, but he’d soon get over it when he realised that they were there to make his life easier. And with next-day delivery, everything should arrive tomorrow. Now all she had to do was visit him to tell him her news.

‘I couldn’t get you a chair, though,’ Freya said, after telling himabout the recommendations that social services had made.

Her dad’s expression hardly changed; he was trying not to let his displeasure show but she could see the irritation in his eyes.

‘Why did you buy all that? It’s a waste of money. They told me I can’t have a bath for six weeks. I have to have a strip wash.’

Freya made a mental note to order him a plastic chair, so he could sit on it in the bathroom to have a wash.

‘I told you I’ll be fine,’ he added, grumpily.

‘If it helps you, it’s worth it.’ Freya chuckled, adding, ‘It could be worse, Dad – I could have arranged for you to have a stairlift installed.’

‘Don’t you bloody well dare!’

‘Don’t worry, I didn’t. Although the two women who did the assessment seemed quite insistent.’

‘I don’t need a bloody stairlift. Or a raised toilet seat.’

‘Tough. You’re having one. It’s being delivered tomorrow. Which reminds me, do you think they’ll discharge you tomorrow?’

‘I expect so. They’ll want the bed. What did those women say? The ones from the council? Did they mention me?’

‘Of course they did! You’re the reason for the assessment. Dad, are you OK?’

‘Do I look it? I’ve been stuck in here for days on end.’

‘I hope you aren’t giving those poor nurses a hard time.’ Freya tried to keep the admonishment light because she knew how frustrated he felt at being in hospital, but he needn’t be quite so curmudgeonly.

Her dad looked away and refused to meet her eye, and she guessed he knew he was being unreasonable. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that he was in hospital, and everyone was trying their best.

Now that she’d got the practical side of things out of the way, it was time to share her other news. ‘I’ve been invited to the castle to have dinner with Mhairi Gray tonight,’ she announced, and was gratified to see him perk up as she explained why.

‘You can’t stop working, can you?’ he said, patting her arm then giving it a squeeze.

‘Gotta keep my hand in,’ she joked. ‘This isn’t anything to do with work, though, but I’m not turning down the chance of a meal at Coorie Castle!’

She’d read on the castle’s website that only the castle’s guests ate there. You couldn’t just book lunch or dinner – you had to be a resident – which made the invitation even more appealing, considering she wouldn’t get to sample the food any other way.

‘You must tell me all about it,’ her dad said.

‘I will,’ she promised.

Freya intended to make the most of the experience, because once her dad was home from hospital, she knew that all she would be doing for the next few weeks was caring for him and making sure nothing impeded his recovery.

Chapter 13

It’s lucky I thought to pack something smart, Freya mused as she took the one and only dress she’d brought with her from London off the hanger. It was plain blue linen with buttons down the front, and she had a feeling she might have bought it because it reminded her of a denim shirt. The cut and style were classic, so she hoped it would do. It would have to, because she didn’t have anything else.

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