Chapter 20 Jacob
Jacob
Rita Crennick was a large woman in her fifties who greeted Jacob with a strong handshake and an accent that was British with a hint of American thrown in.
Jacob had met her at Exeter St David’s Station, and she talked incessantly as they took the local train to Brentwell and then caught a taxi to the hospital.
By the time they’d arrived, Jacob had heard most of her life story, as well as several times round how she had believed Nora was receiving personal care, that she received typed letters several times a year, supposedly from her mother, assuring her that everything was fine, that life was going great, there was nothing to worry about.
Several times, Jacob had to comfort her when she burst into floods of tears, proclaiming loudly about what a terrible daughter she had been, how everyone would believe she had abandoned her mother, when the reality was that her only real crime was in being ignorant of the true situation.
Jacob offered his sympathies, and hoped that Nora would recover enough for them to reconcile.
Shortly before they arrived at the hospital, he was finally able to get in the question he had been dying to ask the whole way.
‘Who was Roy?’
‘Roy? Oh, you mean the dog?’ Rita chuckled.
‘We had him when I was a kid. I don’t remember him well because he died when I was eight or nine.
Cute little thing, like most pugs really.
Looked angry that his mouth was too small to pick up a tennis ball, and ping-pong balls were too slippery for him to hold.
I do remember Mum telling me once that she had given him to my father as a wedding present. ’
‘That’s … different.’
‘And I remembered Dad adored that scrunched up little thing. He was heartbroken when Roy died. I sometimes used to think he loved that dog more than my brother and me. Unfortunately he died before I ever got a chance to ask him.’
‘Your mother’s toy dog … it’s important to her. I think it’s her link to her past, to your father.’ Jacob gave a sudden shrug. ‘I mean, I’m not a psychologist or anything, but that’s what it looks like.’
‘You might be right.’ Rita sniffed. ‘I only hope she recognises me.’
At the hospital, a doctor took Rita to Nora’s room, while Jacob sat in a waiting room, drinking coffee out of a paper cup, thinking how he would prefer one of the lattes at the Oak Leaf Café or even one of Pete Markham’s morning brews, which always came with a dose of gossip and a large spoonful of optimism.
He was just wondering whether it was time to make a quiet exit and leave Nora in the hands of her family, when he became aware of a nurse standing over him.
‘Well, hello. Isn’t it the milkman?’
Jacob looked up. Standing over him, wearing a Brentwell General nurse’s uniform, was Charlotte’s best friend. Jacob struggled to recall her name. ‘Chrissy?’
She grimaced. ‘A decent effort. Kelly. I bet you haven’t forgotten my friend’s name, have you?’
Jacob couldn’t help but smile, despite everything. ‘Charlotte.’
‘What on earth are you doing here? Did you slip over on some milk or something?’
Jacob shook his head. ‘I—’
‘Nurse Collins? We need you in Emergency Room Three.’
At the doctor’s request, Kelly sighed. ‘Well, nice talking to you.’ She smiled. ‘I hope they prescribe you some shoes with better grips.’
Rita was in floods of tears when she came out of Nora’s room.
She explained to Jacob that her mother was still heavily sedated and hadn’t recognised her.
The doctor in charge had also given her a more detailed breakdown of Nora’s condition.
They went down the hall to a cafeteria, where Jacob got them some coffees that were a little better than the ones in the machine.
Fighting back tears while Jacob patted her gently on the shoulder, Rita told him that her mother should have been given round-the-clock care, and that because she hadn’t been taking her medication, it was possible that her condition would only worsen.
‘If I have anything to do with it, heads at that company will roll,’ Rita said. ‘At least the council has finally stepped in. Thanks to you.’
‘I had nothing to do with it,’ Jacob said. ‘It was the police that called it in.’
‘They said that apart from one cleaning lady who was looking out for her, she had no one,’ Rita said.
‘Cleaning lady?’
‘Yes, her name was … Frog? Something like that.’
‘Toad. Clarice Toad. Wait … cleaning lady?’
‘Yes, she was only employed there to clean the halls and the lobby. According to the doctor, she’d been doing the washing and tidying up for several of the residents.
She’d been taking them food, too.’ Rita started to cry again.
‘She was only supposed to hoover the landings. If she hadn’t been looking out for Mum …
she could have died months ago, and no one would have known.
They were sending me those fake letters, all the while my mother’s savings were slipping away. ’
She sobbed. Jacob put an arm around her. Glancing up he saw Nurse Kelly Collins on the other side of the cafeteria, staring at him. He gave her a smile, then grabbed a napkin for Rita to blow her nose. When he looked up, Kelly had gone.
He helped arrange a hotel for Rita, where she would stay for a few days, then headed back to the tearoom to help Aunt Marjorie.
With snow falling outside, Marjorie had closed the tearoom early, and he found her sitting at a table with Daphne, discussing the upcoming Sycamore Park Christmas festival.
‘How was she?’ Aunt Marjorie said, looking up. ‘You look like you need a coffee, love.’
Jacob smiled. ‘I’d love one. Well, there was the reunion, but it didn’t go as Rita had hoped. Nora didn’t recognise her.’
‘It can take time for the medication to take effect,’ Daphne said.
‘That’s what the doctors are hoping for, but we’ll see. Not everyone gets better, do they?’
Aunt Marjorie lifted an eyebrow. ‘Where’s this negativity come from?’
Jacob shrugged. ‘Things are just hard. With Christmas coming up … it just seems so sad.’
‘Sad would be the old dear dying alone in her dingy little flat, unnoticed,’ Daphne said. ‘Instead, thanks to you, she’s got her daughter by her side.’
Jacob shook his head. ‘My involvement was just a bit of blind luck. It was the poor cleaning woman who had been looking after her. She was only supposed to be cleaning the communal areas, but instead she was doing the washing and cleaning for some of the residents, as well as taking them food. Now, thanks to the building being shut down, she’s unemployed. ’
‘Huh.’ Aunt Marjorie looked at Daphne. ‘I was just telling Daphne here that Claire quit this morning. Her husband got a job at some tech firm in the US, and they’re moving just before Christmas. Do you think this cleaning lady knows how to cook?’
Jacob smiled. ‘I don’t know, but I’m quite sure she could learn.’
‘It sounds like she has the right kind of attitude I’d like here in the tearoom. If you can get in touch with her, ask her to come in for a chat.’
Even with a memorable name like Clarice Toad, tracking her down proved a challenge.
Jacob searched the phonebook, searched online, but nothing.
Eventually he even got a number for the nursing home parent company, but found it had been shut down.
He tried to remember anything about her, clinging to the sliver of information that she had had a young son called Billy.
“Young” suggested primary school age. Maybe Lisa Cole at the children’s home knew him.
On Friday night, he stopped by after work, pausing in the entrance to fiddle with his coat, pretending he wasn’t checking to see if Charlotte’s pretty pixie boots were sitting on the mat.
Seeing that they weren’t, he was both disappointed and relieved, but at least it meant he could continue with his primary mission without distraction.
Lisa was as pleased as always to see him. She pointed to a couple of the boys leaning over a chess set in the common room, while a couple of others watched over their shoulders.
‘I’ve never seen Danny concentrate so much on anything,’ she said. ‘It’s even changing his behaviour. You know, he offered to set the table last night? Do you know how many times I would usually have to ask?’
‘That’s good,’ Jacob said.
‘The only problem is that he’s quickly becoming unbeatable,’ Lisa said. ‘I heard him banging on about something called the Sicilian Defence.’
‘A tricky one, that,’ Jacob said with a grin. ‘Charlotte … Ms. Harding knows it. Maybe you can ask her to teach him.’
Lisa sighed. ‘I’ve not heard from her since Wednesday. I hope she didn’t get scared off.’
‘She’s probably just busy.’
Lisa patted him on the shoulder. ‘You sound so disappointed.’
‘The children liked her.’
‘You give up too easily. Look, I know it’s a bit dodgy, but I have her number. You could pretend that you were trying to call for pizza or something and by total random chance put in her number instead.’
‘You think she’d fall for it?’
Lisa sighed. ‘If she did, I don’t think she’d be worth dating. She might see the funny side, though.’
‘You think?’
‘Or she might not. We might both be arrested. You could just tell her you begged me for it.’
‘What if she doesn’t like me? I mean, she’s way out of my league.’
‘Ah, I think you’re pushing pretty hard for promotion.’ Lisa pulled out her phone. ‘Here it is. Just pretend I randomly had it up on the screen.’
Jacob glanced at the line of figures, then quickly looked away. ‘I can’t,’ he said.
‘Well, perhaps Father Christmas will put a bit of luck in your stocking this year.’
‘As opposed to the usual socks?’
‘Fingers crossed. What do we owe the pleasure of your company to today, anyway? You don’t usually come over on a Friday.’
‘I’m trying to track someone down,’ Jacob said. ‘A woman called Clarice Toad.’
‘Never heard of her, but if I had, I don’t think I could forget.’
‘She has a son called Billy. That’s all I know. I wondered if one of the kids knew him.’
‘Let’s find out.’
They went into the common room. Lisa clapped her hands and the kids all looked up, except for Danny, who quickly played a bishop move, then clenched a fist and muttered, ‘Yes!’ before turning around.
‘Any of you know a kid called Billy Toad? Jacob here’s trying to get in touch with his mother.’
Michaella glanced at Johnson, then put up a hand. ‘He’s in our class,’ she said.
‘Your class? That’s Ms. Harding’s class, right?’
‘Yep.’
Lisa turned to Jacob, unable to keep the grin off her face. ‘There’s your magic ticket, right? Seriously, I can practically hear sleigh bells ringing.’