Page 22 of Merrily Ever After
Emily had been allowed into the main kitchen, which was spotlessly clean, as well as the dining room, which could easily have belonged to a small hotel. She’d seen a lady having her hair styled in the on-site salon and now they were entering the living room, which, despite its size, managed to feel cosy and comfortable.
An old lady wearing the most amazing 1970s maxi dress was doing a jigsaw puzzle and chatting away to herself, two others were laughing over a magazine and an elderly man was tapping on an iPad. One old chap had a young visitor, a granddaughter perhaps, and together with a member of staff they were hanging striped candy canes on yet another Christmas tree in the corner. Another lady about Ray’s age was having coffee with a woman who looked so like her that she had to be her daughter. A member of staff with a tea trolley passed amongst them. It was all very civilised.
‘Hello, Will!’ Gail waved as an attractive man arrived carrying a portable speaker. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Great!’ He began arranging chairs into a semicircle. ‘Six people booked in for today.’
‘Armchair athletics,’ Gail explained as they left the room. ‘It’s proving quite popular.’
‘I’m quite jealous,’ Emily replied, taking a last look at the man before she left. If the staff all looked like that,she’d be tempted into an armchair herself. ‘Do you run many activities?’
‘You’d be surprised just how many,’ she said. ‘We focus on what people can do rather than what they can’t. We have a garden which is maintained by residents, we have craft groups for those who enjoy knitting and sewing, card games, cooking, you name it. What are your father’s hobbies?’
Emily hesitated. The weird thing was that even though she had taken on the job of looking after him over the last eighteen months or so, prior to that, she had only seen him once or twice a year. Since he’d left Bakewell for good after he and Tina split up. It had been an awful time; Tina had been miserable, and Emily had missed her dad terribly. He’d turn up now and again with belated gifts for her birthday, but he hadn’t been great at keeping in touch. She knew he’d lived in Edinburgh for a few years, but he’d never encouraged her to visit. All in all, he was a bit of a mystery to her. She wracked her brains to remember the things which used to interest him, and her mind flitted to the box of dusty old vinyl records in his flat.
‘Music,’ she said, aware that Gail was waiting for an answer. ‘He used to have music on in the car all the time and play records at home. He struggles with buttons and knobs now and he forgets how to turn things on. He loved music festivals when he was younger, too.’
He’d taken her to Glastonbury once. Only for the day, but it had been magical. Mum hadn’t wanted him to take her, convinced he’d forget about her, and she’d get lost. That was exactly what had happened; it had been one of the best days of her life. Emily smirked to herself remembering the fun she had had in a tent with a boy called Nevin. Happy days.
‘No problem,’ said Gail, bringing Emily back to the present. ‘We can help him play music in his own room and there are lots of group musical opportunities too. We bring people in from the community to lead us for various sessions. We also have dancing lessons and even aerobics and yoga. And, of course, there are plenty of comfy chairs if anyone fancies a nap and several TV sets for those who don’t want to miss their favourite shows.’
‘It certainly sounds as if Dad won’t get bored.’
‘Definitely not, but also there’s no pressure to do anything. Our residents can do as much or as little as they like.’
‘And what about Christmas?’
They were back in the foyer and Gail waved a hand over a noticeboard. ‘Activities galore. And there’s a Christmas fair coming up. That’s always fun; relatives and friends of our residents are encouraged to come to support the stallholders. And we have a local school coming in to sing carols.’
That rang a bell now Gail mentioned it, and a closer look at the poster confirmed it.
‘The Darley Academy is where I work,’ Emily said. ‘The choir are fab.’
‘Then you must come along.’
Emily nodded. If her father was here by then, she would.
‘Do people have to stay here at Christmas or are they allowed out?’
Gail smiled warmly. ‘This would be your father’s home, it’s not prison. Some residents go to stay with their families, and some families choose to spend part of Christmas Day here. I must say our cook does a fabulous three-bird roast.’
‘That does sound tempting.’
Emily hadn’t made plans for Christmas, or rather she had but they’d included Gavin, so now she’d have torethink. She and Izzy had had a long FaceTime call the other night about everything. Izzy had declared Emily well rid of Gavin and said that him dumping Emily had saved her flying over and staging an intervention. Gavin, as far as Izzy was concerned, wasn’t worth another thought and although it was still early days, her heart was beginning to heal and Emily was inclined to agree with her.
She had already gone through several stages of emotion since Gavin ended their relationship. Shock that technically he’d dumped her over voicemail, even if she hadn’t listened to it before she’d spoken to him. Next, upset that he didn’t want her anymore, that effectively he’d broken up with her because she was spending too much time looking after her dad. Sad, too, because she was going to miss him, he made her laugh, brought fun into her life – OK, he hadn’t been perfect, but then neither was she. But last night, she had come home, put on her pyjamas and eaten a plate of buttered toast while bingeing on a Netflix series Izzy had told her about and she felt … relieved. It was a relief to be able to focus on Springwood House without Gavin complaining that he was being sidelined again. Her own company, she decided was better than the company of someone who wasn’t interested in giving her the support she needed.
As far as Christmas was concerned, she always had an open invitation to join her mum and stepdad, Ian. They liked to have Christmas lunch at the local pub and spend the rest of the day watching TV with a bottle of sherry and a family-sized tub of chocolates and she always felt like a gooseberry. But, it was either that, or spend it on her own, or possibly with a plate of three-bird roast at a dementia care home. None of the options were how she’d thought she’d be spending the festive season at her age.Next year, she promised herself, she was going to make sure she did something which filled her with joy.
‘I can see this is a lot for you to take in,’ Gail said, studying her face. ‘Is there anyone else in the family you’d like to bring for a tour?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied, wishing with all her heart that there was someone she could bring. ‘I was worried that everyone would be really old, but that’s not the case. I’m glad, Dad’s only sixty-five.’
‘Early-onset dementia is a lot more common that you’d think,’ said Gail. ‘Many of the people you see here today had full-time careers not too long ago. We have a variety of levels of care. The self-contained flat I showed you is for those who can look after themselves and want their independence. But we also have rooms designed for people who need more help bathing and dressing, for example.’
Emily nodded. ‘And you can move from one room to another if necessary? I imagine that makes the transition easier when the time comes.’
‘Exactly. Anything that makes life smoother is a good thing for everyone,’ Gail acknowledged, showing Emily to the door and handing her a brochure. ‘Nice to meet you. I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but vacancies don’t hang around for long.’
