could—a large injection of caffeine is just what I needed. And talking of holidays, you might go and put that bridesmaid’s dress in its box because every time I see it I want to cry! Oh, and by the way, would you please book a room for Frank’s brother at the Pear Tree? He’s coming up this afternoon to see Frank.’
Daphne’s round face beamed. ‘Not the gorgeous Dr Medic? Certainly I will—I shall ask him to give me an autograph for my mother—she’s potty about him. Watches every single programme he’s on and says he makes her feel better just looking and listening to him.’
Kerry raised an eyebrow. ‘He didn’t sound all that charming to me. More annoyed that he had to make time to come up here. I think he’s a crusty self-centred old bachelor!’
‘Don’t say that,’ protested Daphne, as she walked out. ‘I may have been married for seventeen years and have three children, but I can still dream about impossibly handsome men and romance, can’t I?’
She unhooked the bridesmaid’s dress from the wall and folded it carefully over her arm. ‘By the way, Liz Ferris wants you to go and see old Nellie Styles if you can. She had a another fall yesterday and Liz feels she needs an assessment prior to getting some carers in. Of course Nellie won’t have it—she told Liz that she wouldn’t allow any more community nurses in, she could manage fine by herself and she wasn’t having any of those meals on wheels either! ‘
Kerry laughed. Nellie Styles was a feisty and wilful old lady, but she couldn’t help admiring her. ‘I’ll go at lunchtime,’ she promised. ‘Then hopefully I’ll be back to greet Denovan O’Mara—but I’m not looking forward to it particularly. I have a feeling he and I might not hit it off!’
Inside Nellie Styles’s cottage it was very cold, and there was a general air of neglect about the place. The little home she took such pride in had deteriorated, thought Kerry sadly. A few months ago it had been spotless, every surface gleaming and the brasses round the fireplace twinkling. Now there were bundles of local papers and magazines littering the floor. The many photographs of Nellie’s scattered family were filmed with dust and there were dead flies on the windowsills and plates of uneaten food on the table in the living room. It was a picture of decline Kerry had seen before in some of her elderly infirm patients whose relations lived too far away to help. She would have to persuade Nellie somehow that the time had come to accept help.
The old lady was standing precariously by the door to her kitchen, clinging to the back of a bookcase. She had an old blanket wrapped round her shoulders and she looked pinched and cold. She turned round as Kerry entered, a frown crossing her face when she saw who it was.
‘I thought that nurse said Dr O’Mara was coming today,’ she said grumpily.
‘I’m afraid Dr O’Mara’s been in an accident and injured himself rather badly. I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.’
Nellie pursed her lips. ‘The way he screeches through the village in that car of his it’s a miracle he hasn’t come to grief before.’
The old lady turned back to her chair and staggered slightly as she let go of her support. Kerry went swiftly over to her and guided her gently back to her seat.
‘It’s a bit cold in here, Nellie, you haven’t got your fire on,’ she said, bending down and switching on the electric fire in the grate. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Not bad … not bad. Just a bit chilled, like, but what can you expect with this weather? I’ve not seen so much rain for many years.’
Kerry nodded—she’d had to cross parts of the road near Nellie’s that were awash with huge puddles, and even from here she could hear the river gushing as it flowed along the main village road.
‘Perhaps it’ll stop raining soon, it did look a little lighter over the hills,’ she said brightly. ‘Now, Nellie, have you had anything to eat or drink today?’
Nellie looked evasive. ‘I was just about to get myself a little something.’
‘A bowl of soup might warm you up—I can easily heat some in a saucepan—and before you say anything, it isn’t too much trouble.’
Kerry smiled at the old lady persuasively and was rewarded by a flicker of interest in her eyes. ‘Well, just to please you, like, a little bit in a cup would be grand.’
In a few minutes thin hands were clasped round the warm cup and Nellie was sipping the soup eagerly, a little colour returning to her pale cheeks. ‘That’s very nice, Doctor, but I could have got it myself, you know.’
‘I know you could, Nellie, but I want you to have a little rest for a while. I don’t think you’ve ever recovered your strength from that last infection.’
Nellie’s eyes flashed rebelliously. ‘I’m not going back into that hospital, whatever you say!’
Kerry patted her hand. ‘I don’t want you to, but I do want to get you some help, just for the time being. Someone who can bring you a little food every day and perhaps do your washing, build you up a little—otherwise you’re going to end up in hospital anyway.’
Nellie’s frail old face looked fiercely at Kerry for a minute, then slowly her expression changed to one of resignation and she nodded her head slowly. ‘Perhaps I am a bit run-down. If you could organise something, then—just temporary, mind!’
She must be feeling pretty awful to capitulate like that, thought Kerry. It was never easy to admit, after years of independence, that the time had come to be cared for.
‘I’ll see to it,’ promised Kerry. ‘In the meantime, Liz Ferris will be popping in to see that you’re OK.’
‘That Liz Ferris,’ grumbled Nellie. ‘She’s always getting on at me to put more fires on and get more food in. She must think I’m made of money!’
‘Now, now, Nellie—she’s only doing it for your own good, you know. We’re all very fond of you and want you to get stronger.’
Nellie looked slightly mollified. ‘I know, lass, I know.’ She took another sip of soup and then looked up at Kerry inquisitively. ‘So what will you do now without Dr O’Mara?’
‘Oh, I’m sure I can get someone to fill in fairly soon,’ said Kerry, with more assurance than she felt. She’d already been in touch with several agencies in the area with no luck.
‘I knew Frank O’Mara when he was a little boy—him and his brother. I used to do some cooking for them,’ said Nellie, taking another sip of soup. ‘Ee, they were chalk and cheese, those lads. And wild—always at each other’s throats! Of course,’ the old lady reminisced, ‘that father of theirs was hard on them, and after he lost his first wife and his second wife left them all so sudden, like—well, they were left to their own devices and they were right tearaways!’
‘I hope they’ve got over their differences now. His brother’s coming up this afternoon to see Dr Frank,’ said Kerry.
Nellie gave a cackle of laughter. ‘Well, you may get fireworks between them—their father was a difficult, womanising man—perhaps they’ve taken after him! I always wondered if that was why Denovan’s mother left—she was only young herself. But it was a cruel thing, if you ask me, to leave a young lad like that. You’ll have to act as referee between them, my dear!’
That’s
