Chapter 26
MAGGIE
I rip the brown tape off the cardboard box and lean back on my knees.
Heritage Retirement Home is nothing like I was expecting.
I suppose, what came to mind was one of the more institutional homes that I was placed in, but this is like a five-star hotel.
The large building is Georgian, set amongst acres of lush green land, tall oaks around the perimeter.
From Riz’s room, you can see the sea and the whole place smells like furniture polish, and not the cheap stuff either.
I look around her room, or maybe suite is a better word?
It’s large, two big windows behind a neat round table, a small kitchen area, and to the right is her bedroom.
Her bed is large and the only hint to this being anything other than a hotel is in the hospital-style bed, the call buttons to the side, and the handrails in the bathroom.
The removal firm had brought her things, and now Riz looks perfectly at home, sitting in her favourite chair, a large black A4 portfolio on her knees.
‘Of course, I turned him down,’ Riz continues.
‘John Lennon?’ I blow my hair out of my eyes. ‘You turned down John Lennon?’
‘I absolutely did. Even if I wasn’t already married, he wasn’t at all my type. Here, look.’
She tilts the folder open. I get up and peer over the back of the chair and there smiling up at the camera is the man himself.
He’s young, early twenties I’d guess. He’s wearing a black tie and a white shirt.
He has a spark of mischief and is clearly flirting with whoever is behind the camera.
She turns the page and there he is again, laughing at a woman with thick black hair beneath a jockey cap, mini skirt, three-quarter-length leather jacket, her camera held in her hands.
‘Art took that one.’ She sighs and shakes her head.
‘He never could get to grips with proportions, far too much of the brick wall to the left. It was navy blue that jacket. It should be in one of those boxes I left for you; it’ll suit you. ’
‘You are stunning, Riz. No wonder he had eyes for you.’
‘I think he liked the chase more, to be honest. It must have been refreshing to meet a girl in her twenties who wasn’t falling at his feet. Tragic what happened to him.’
I shake my head. The more I learn of her life, the less believable it all is. But each time I think she may be exaggerating, she produces some kind of evidence.
I wipe down the dust from my purple tights. ‘Fancy a cuppa before I go?’
‘That would be wonderful.’
‘So, how’s our Jack?’ she asks with a tone that is more than a gentle enquiry.
I fill the kettle as my stomach knots.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen him.’ I flick the switch and grip onto the counter.
‘And why is that?’ she asks.
I turn and lean back, dragging my eyes up to her.
‘It’s complicated.’
‘Pssssh. That word should be banned. Complicated just means there are lots of elements that need to be unpicked, so unpick them.’
I close my eyes briefly, remembering the way he’d looked at me, like I was one step away from being sectioned.
‘I’m not good for him, Riz.’
I replay the way his whole body had tensed when the truth landed.
The look of betrayal and hurt that followed.
I should have stopped seeing him after that first night.
In the past, my ability has hurt me more than those around me.
This time though, it cuts deeper. I deceived him at a time in his life where he needed stability.
The way he looked at me, after everything we’ve shared…
and I know that I’m asking a lot of him to believe me, but part of me…
I hoped he’d be different, that he would at least try to understand.
‘Not good for him? Maggie, I’ve seen the two of you together; you’re more than good for him.’
‘We don’t work. As a couple. It’s better this way. I will only cause him pain.’ I place the cup down next to her.
‘Of course you’ll cause him pain. That’s what love is: pain and joy and everything in between.’
‘You and your Rizdoms.’ I shake my head. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’
‘That would be lovely, but don’t you have better things to be doing than visiting me?’
‘I like visiting you. Now, behave yourself and don’t get into any mischief.’
* * *
I push aside my thoughts about Jack. I’m about to tap the visitors’ pass to open the doors when my attention is drawn towards an elderly man, smartly dressed in a suit and waistcoat.
He reminds me of an older Pierce Brosnan.
He hesitates, turns and begins walking up along the corridor then turns again, a look of confusion there.
‘Hiya,’ I say, smiling.
‘Hello!’ he says brightly. ‘I… I…’ He looks up and down the corridor again then back to me. ‘I was going somewhere and…’
My heart breaks a little for this proud-looking man, who is clearly lost. I scan the corridor, but can’t see any staff. ‘Shall we go and find your room?’ I suggest. He brightens as I step towards him. ‘I don’t know about you, but I always get lost in this place, so many doors!’
‘Quite right. That would be… thank you, young lady. This way!’ he instructs. I walk beside him.
‘I’m Maggie.’
‘Derek Hill.’ He grins up at me. ‘Pleased to meet you.’ He puts out his hand; it’s unavoidable.
I can’t try to explain to him that I can’t touch him and I don’t want to cause any more distress.
I let my hand fall into his and recite the digits of pi.
His thoughts are quiet, distant, his mind whirling as he looks to the long hall with doors on either side.
Which one. Which one.
‘So, Derek,’ I say, linking my arm through his. The action feels alien to me, but I don’t recoil because his thoughts are quiet, his emotions dampened. I stop reciting digits and let myself relax. ‘Tell me about your room. Did you get a sea view or can you see the hills…?’
I hear his thoughts as he tries to recollect: deep green walls, a painting of a ship, dark furniture. There are trees outside the window, no sea in the background, which must mean he’s on the other side of the building.
‘Oh, now there’s a question.’ He smiles up at me, giving me a wink. ‘Are you asking if you’d like to see my room, young lady?’
‘Derek, are you flirting with me?’ I smile.
‘I never pass on a pretty face. You’ve got to be in it to win it, as I always say.’
There is a flicker of a thought. It’s hard to describe, but it’s like he’s remembering to act a part.
We continue slowly along the corridor. I glance into the rooms as we pass, seeking out green walls and dark furniture.
Rounding a corner to the right, we continue.
I hear his thoughts before he says them, like it’s a well-rehearsed script and he’s reading out the lines.
But it’s quieter than I’m used to; there is less background noise in his mind.
‘So what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?’ he asks, a twinkle in his pale eyes.
‘Quite the charmer, aren’t you?’
I scan more rooms, listen to his thoughts, but there is a mist there, something dampening his memories.
I spot his room, as a sense of relief floods through him.
Silly old fool. Here it is.
He taps the side of his head. ‘Ah here we are. Might you fancy a drink?’
‘Let’s get you inside and I can make you one?’
‘Perfect. I take my tea with honey and lemon if you don’t mind.’
‘Not at all.’ I let him go as he makes his way into the room. It’s clean, fresh but there is something sad about it too, like it’s not him, somehow.
He folds himself into a large green armchair and picks up a discarded newspaper.
I turn and look for a kitchen area but there isn’t any tea and the fridge is empty.
I frown. Is this his room? I scan the photos on the wall and lean in.
There he is, much younger, standing on what looks like a yacht; beside him is a man with red hair and ruddy complexion.
I step around the room. There are more photos of the two of them, getting older but smiling from various destinations.
‘Derek! There you are!’ A pretty nurse in a uniform more suited to hotel staff than a carer comes in. She has thick black hair in a neat bun and walks in with a palpable look of relief on her small face. Ravina her name tag reads. She looks to me with gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ she breathes.
‘No problem. I brought him to his room, no harm done.’ She chews her bottom lip and tries to convey something that I can’t quite get the meaning of as she moves towards him. ‘I turn around for one minute.’ She shakes her head. ‘Derek, love. It’s time for your dinner.’
‘I’ll have it in my room,’ he says from behind his newspaper. Her shoulders drop and she gives me an almost sympathetic look.
‘How about we go downstairs and…’
‘No thank you. Here is fine.’ He drops the newspaper and confusion descends across his features again.
‘Derek, your room is downstairs. This is your… friend’s room.’
I’m pulled back to the photos of the two men and sadness fills me. The act. The script.
‘Well, where is he?’
She crouches down and takes his hand in hers. ‘William has stepped out for a moment. Let’s get you some food. It’s lamb chops – your favourite.’
Derek gets up and folds the newspaper. ‘Would you like to dine with me?’ he asks, putting out an arm, that twinkle back.
‘I can’t today, Derek, but another time?’ I smile.
He taps me on the hand. ‘Very well. Don’t be a stranger now, will you?’ He winks. ‘I never forget a pretty face.’
‘Come on, you old rascal,’ she says, as he walks towards the door. Another nurse with dreadlocks and kind eyes approaches them and takes Derek by the arm.
‘His partner, William, died last week,’ Ravina says sadly as we watch them leave.
‘He’s forgotten. This was Will’s room and…
he’s regressed. When they first came to us, they were a right pair!
Always holding hands, laughing and getting into all kinds of mischief but the dementia started to take its toll.
Broke William’s heart when Derek started to pull away from him in public, started flirting with all the women.
Put himself firmly back in the closet, William said.
It was so sad to watch.’ She straightens.
‘Thank you, for finding him. He’s a clever bugger when he’s lucid, watches when people go through the safety doors and tags along as brazen as you like. ’
‘What happened to William?’
‘Heart attack. He died peacefully though. That’s all we can hope for in this job.’
‘Does he have many visitors?’
‘No. Not any more.’
‘If it’s OK, I’d like to look in on him? I have a friend here, and it would be no bother.’
‘That would be lovely…?’
‘Maggie.’
‘Maggie. Good to meet you.’
We follow the large staircase down to the reception area.
Sounds from the communal area leak towards me: a TV, a cough, laughter, something like ping-pong being played from further along.
I pick up the pen and sign myself out. My thoughts return to Jack.
Is he already trying to forget me, the time we spent together? I push the thought away.
I might not be able to have Jack in my life, but maybe my curse doesn’t have to be something I hide from, not all the time.