Chapter 42
Jake hesitated before entering. He wasn’t exactly relishing seeing Martha or telling Arnold that he couldn’t really be of help. But at least he could hand the photos back. With that thought, Jake walked in and immediately stopped, stunned.
‘I take it you’ve been here before.’ A deep throaty male voice came from a heavily-built guy in a blue uniform, who was sitting behind a long, low desk spanning the width of the hallway. ‘It always takes people by surprise,’ his smooth deep baritone voice continued. ‘But like I said, they wouldn’t listen – board of trustees always get their way.’ He made a clucking sound with his tongue, noting disapproval.
‘You mean the …?’ Jake twirled his finger in the air, still getting over the shock of seeing all that beautiful mahogany wood he had been admiring only the previous day now whitewashed along with the walls. He blinked hard, wondering if it was all in his head and Marcus was right – that he did need to check himself in.
‘Scandalous, isn’t it? You’re not the first to walk in here and get a shock, I can tell you. And you won’t be the last.’
Jake was relieved to hear it. ‘It looks so – clinical.’
‘You know, I said the exact same thing.’ He leaned forward and pointed a finger at Jake. ‘And that’s not the only thing that’s changed around here. The trustees have gone ahead and sold off some of the land, ostensibly to keep funding this place.’
‘The billboard?’ said Jake.
‘That’s right – sacrilege, isn’t it? Anyway, enough about that. Who are you here to see?’ He made a quick entry on the computer on his desk and then looked up expectantly at Jake.
Jake cautiously approached the desk, discreetly tucking the brown envelopes in his coat pocket. He decided he’d be better off speaking to the woman who had been there the previous day – she’d understand. ‘I’ve come to see a woman – she works here.’ Jake craned his neck to see down the hallway. He looked for the door with the word Reception, expecting her to be in there and expecting the man sitting in front of him to go and fetch her.
‘We’ve got lots of women here. Are you talking about a nurse?’
‘No, she’s not a nurse. She’s a receptionist.’ An assumption of course, thought Jake, but hey if you work out of a room called Reception … Jake took another look down the hallway to see if he could see the familiar room, but the big man in front of him was blocking his view, and the long, low desk prevented access to the passage where Jake had walked only the day before.
Jake said, ‘You make changes quickly around here.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You think so?’ He leaned over the counter towards Jake. ‘You know, I used to be on my feet all day, for thirty-five years, and the last five years I kept telling them I needed to get off my feet, do something a bit more sedentary. Five years it took to get me this position. Five years . And that’s only because Margaret quit. You’d think they’d have made more effort to keep their longest-serving employee, but once all this changed, she just didn’t want to stick around.’
‘Margaret – the receptionist – she’s gone?’ Jake turned to look at the front door as though she had just that moment strode past him on her way out.
‘Yep, just up and left. She was close to retirement, mind. Between you and me,’ he glanced around the room and motioned Jake to come closer, ‘I think she couldn’t get the hang of these newfangled things.’ He surreptitiously cocked his head at the computer. ‘Mind you, I’m no expert myself,’ he chuckled, ‘two years and I still haven’t quite …’
‘Two years?’ Jake said in surprise. He found it necessary to repeat the question. ‘You’ve been doing this for two years?’
The big guy nodded.
‘Does the old receptionist, er …’ Jake pointed at the big man.
‘Margaret.’
‘Yes, Margaret – does she ever get called in to cover for you when you go on holiday?’
‘Holiday?’ He slowly shook his head. ‘I haven’t got the money for a holiday.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘Besides, they’d have a difficult time calling her in, even if they wanted to.’
Jake furrowed his brow. ‘How’s that?’
The big man leaned forward, elbows on counter. ‘Because she’s dead.’ He drew back and nodded solemnly. ‘Yep, she died over a year ago.’
‘How could that be?’
The big man thought the question was directed at him. ‘I think the job was her life – know what I mean – and once she left, well,’ he clicked his fingers, ‘that was it – poof, end of story!’
It obviously hadn’t been Margaret he had spoken to the day before. The conversation was wasting his time.
‘How long?’ Jake swirled his hand around the hall.
‘The wonderful re-decoration job?’ he said in a deadpan voice. ‘Not long after she left – that’s when they installed this, too.’ He patted the desk. ‘Say, what happened?’ He was looking at Jake’s hands.
‘I fell on glass, cut my hands pretty bad.’ Jake said absently, his mind still racing with questions.
‘Nasty – you want me to take a look?’
Jake looked at him doubtfully.
‘I’m a healthcare assistant. Well, I was until I started this job.’
‘I see.’
He held up his lanyard with an identity card that detailed his name and position. ‘I’m Lawrence. And I can tell straight off you haven’t had those looked at by a medical professional. If they’d added any more bandages, your hands would be wrapped up like you’re wearing a pair of boxing gloves.’ He chuckled.
Jake looked at them. He was pretty sure driving was illegal like this as it was. Gayle, a former nurse, had offered to take a look, but he just hadn’t had time for her to redress the wounds with fresh bandages. It was Marcus and himself that had done it instead, and clearly not done a good job of it.
‘Come through here.’ He beckoned for Jake to step the other side of the counter.
Jake stepped through and found himself still puzzling over what he’d been told. How could the place look so different from the previous day?
‘Are you okay?’
When Jake looked up, the man was standing next to him, holding gauze and bandages.
‘Yes, but I’ve got to be honest with you, and I swear I am not losing my mind. This place looks completely different.’ Jake cast his gaze up the unfamiliar flight of stairs in front of him.
Lawrence nodded and said, ‘Meet the founder of this place.’ He was pointing up the stairs. A grey-haired, dignified gentleman, who looked quite stern, stared down at them from a very large portrait painting.
‘The last of his family to live here, before he formed a charitable trust and it became what it is today.’
‘Can you explain it?’ He studied Lawrence intensely, hoping for any sign, any reasonable explanation, that he wasn’t losing his mind.
‘Yes,’ said Lawrence, ‘of course I can explain it. Oh damn! I’ve forgotten the antiseptic cream! ‘Hold that thought. I’ll be back in a jiffy.’
Jake sighed and turned his attention back to the painting. A small gold plate fixed to the bottom of the picture frame appeared to have a name and date engraved. Jake walked partway up the stairs to take a closer look. He read the inscription – Mr Angus Delaney and Master Ralph Delaney, circa 1963 .
‘Ralph?’ Jake nearly lost his footing when he suddenly realised who he was looking at.