‘There are loads of residential homes here. I’m sure they won’t move her far.’
‘They need to get a wriggle on. She’s getting worse every day.’
‘Try getting your GP involved.’
‘Oh, everyone’s involved. We have a social worker linked to the Hub, Henley, and even he’s on the case. It’s just, with more and more people living longer, the care homes are filling up. Years ago, families would care for their elders, but now everyone’s working and can’t fit it all in.’ She bobbed her head. ‘Trust me, it’s a lot.’
‘You’re a good daughter, Ginny.’
She gazed out the side window, not adding to the conversation, so Will switched the radio on low to listen to the news.
‘Good grief,’ he mumbled to himself. ‘Snow. That’s all we need.’ He glanced at Ginny, who looked to be in a world of her own. ‘Did you hear that, love? They reckon snow is on its way.’ He looked at the clear sky, not seeing signs of much. It wasn’t lost on him that he’d just called her love, but as her only reply was a light groan, he ignored it as well.
After two and a half hours of chit-chat, music, and companionable silence, they pulled into a service station to grab a bite to eat and use the bathroom.
Will was glad to stretch his legs, and Ginny already looked tired. He hoped her mum was placed into residential care soon, as even he could see how much of a break Ginny needed, and he hardly knew her.
The queue for coffee and sandwiches was long, so Will waited in line while Ginny went to freshen up. He’d just reachedthe front when he heard a faint scream. Everyone in the vicinity turned to see where the commotion was coming from.
‘What’s going on over there?’ the young man serving asked Will.
Will shifted around the small crowd behind him, then noticed people had started gathering outside the women’s toilets.
Ginny!
He darted across the forecourt, pushing through the crowd until he reached the entrance to the loo. ‘Ginny?’ he called.
Her strained voice cried back, ‘Will, help!’
With little thought to where he was heading, he dashed inside to see a few ladies gathered outside a closed cubicle.
‘The door’s jammed,’ said one woman.
‘Someone’s gone to get the janitor,’ said another.
But Will was only half listening. He thumped on the door. ‘Ginny, you in there?’ He heard a whimper.
‘Will, please . . .’
Straight away he could hear her breathing was off. ‘Stand on the loo,’ he told her. ‘I’m going to kick the door. Stay as far back as possible, okay?’
‘Okay,’ came the faintest of replies.
Two kicks to the cheap wood had the door hanging off its hinges, and Will tugged the obstruction out the way to a few cheers from the surrounding women.
‘Well done, mate,’ said one.
He felt someone’s hand slide from his shoulder as he rushed inside the cubicle to find Ginny curled up in a ball on the closed toilet seat. ‘Hey, hey,’ he said softly, wrapping her in his arms. ‘It’s okay.’
Ginny was sobbing silently, burying her head into his chest as he lifted her.
‘You’re okay now, babe,’ said a woman, as Will carried Ginny out the bathroom.
‘No one likes getting stuck,’ said another. ‘Terrible time I had in a lift once.’
Will ignored the people staring and the women from the toilets telling everyone what had happened and how the trapped lady is just a bit shaken but okay.
Ginny was shaking and not looking away from his chest.
