‘You don’t get seasick by any chance?’ joked Jed.
Will laughed, inhaled the cold air, then settled down on a hard seat to admire the clean deck. ‘You know, on the warship, we’d use the upper deck as a running track at certain times of the day. We’d run clockwise one day, and counter-clockwise the next.’ Staring at the deck brought the memory back, making him smile to himself at his old life.
Jed laughed. ‘Your story just made me think of Harold Lane. He used to drive the local bus. One day, he started driving round the one-way system the wrong way. Singing at the top of his head he was. Pissed as a newt. Funny old sight, obviously not for his one and only passenger, and I should know, as it was me.’ He roared with laughter, then started singing a sea shanty.
Will gazed once more over at the harbour as they sailed further away, and as he was now an official member of the Berry Buoys, he happily joined in with the song.
Chapter 16
Ginny
‘Ginny, Ginny,’ squealed Suzanne, rushing into the hallway at Birdy’s as soon as Ginny stepped foot inside. She clapped excitedly. ‘We’ve only gone and got a blimming place, and it’s in Cornwall. Come on, your mum’s nearly ready. I said we’d take her over for a meet and greet. It’s about an hour’s drive away.’
‘Why am I only hearing about this now?’ asked Ginny, feeling a surge of mixed emotions.
‘Henley sorted it this morning, that’s why. Besides, you’ve only just got back from Wales.’ Suzanne headed to the kitchen to zip up Birdy’s bag on the table, then turned to lightly grab Ginny’s elbows. ‘This is going to be good for her, so don’t you fret,’ she said quietly. ‘She needs round-the-clock care, and you need your life back.’
There was so much logic in Suzanne’s statement, but it didn’t stop Ginny from feeling like a terrible daughter. All her life her mother had told her so, and now she was proving the point. How on earth was she going to be able to live with herself knowing she’d stuck her mum in a home then buggered off to enjoy life?
As though reading her mind, Suzanne added, ‘Hey, you’re doing the right thing. Residential homes were created for this very reason. Some people just need more hands to look after them. She’ll be with trained carers.’
Everything Suzanne said made perfect sense, and Ginny tried hard to raise her spirits, but as soon as she saw her mother’s frightened face, her whole world came crashing down.
‘I said I’d just look,’ said Birdy, tightening her lips as Suzanne secured her into the stairlift at the top of the stairs.
Ginny figured it was a good start. Perhaps it would be best if she too looked at the visit that way. She told herself over and over that no decision had to be made on the spot, even though she knew she was bargaining with the inevitable.
The car ride over felt awkward and slightly nerve-wracking. Ginny was sure she would be ordered to abort mission at any given moment. Suzanne was the only upbeat person in the vehicle, babbling on about how good care homes were, and how she’d been on outings with residents in the past, and the fun Christmases she’d attended as a worker.
Ginny was only half listening, as her sickly tummy was gaining all her attention. She hoped she wouldn’t have to pull over to vomit. How was this situation so hard? Her mum needed care, they were going to a place that offered just that, and loads of other families had just got on with it.
Her thoughts turned to what Will had said about his grandmother’s home. It sounded lovely, and the last she heard, Babs was being well cared for. The same would happen for her mum, she was sure. She had to train her brain to be sure, else she was certain her digestive system would never be the same again.
Ginny’s stomach was in knots as she parked along a narrow one-way street. Suzanne jumped out straight away to sort the wheelchair, and Birdy sat in silence, not even looking up from her lap.
The house looked in need of a fresh coat of external paint, and the small concrete area out front could have done with a few cheery plants or something.
Ginny didn’t want to judge, but she couldn’t help herself. There was something off, and it wasn’t her guts this time.
A seagull cried overhead, reminding Ginny they were close to the coast, even if there were no other signs. The air wasn’t exactly filled with the fresh salt of Port Berry, and the streets she’d driven down didn’t look as clean. She knew she shouldn’tcompare, especially as Port Berry held awards for its cleanliness. She couldn’t expect all coastal towns and villages to be the same.
Birdy groaned as she slumped in her wheelchair. ‘I don’t feel too good, Gin.’
You’re not the only one.
‘We won’t stay long, Mum. Let’s just have a bit of a nosey, yeah?’
‘Suppose,’ mumbled Birdy.
Ginny watched Suzanne greet a middle-aged man and woman at the door. She pushed her mother closer, not liking the look of the couple straight away. She told herself to stop being daft, then faked a smile as she approached.
Had Will exaggerated somewhat when talking about his grandmother’s care home? What Ginny was witnessing on their tour didn’t meet anything he had described. She figured all care homes would be different, but the one she was in wasn’t anything like the one Babs was in. Maybe they were at the wrong place.
She locked eyes with the couple’s thirty-something son, whose shifty eyes did little to soothe her pounding heart. Why couldn’t she hold a real smile and feel some form of relief that her mum would be looked after?
The hard floors and hospital-blue painted walls lacked warmth, and Ginny expected a lift to take them to the upper levels, not a stairlift. She expected so much more. A games room for bingo night or arts and crafts, perhaps a beautiful garden with a duck pond and weeping willow. Large bedrooms decorated in light tones and views of rolling hills or the sea.
Her heart dropped as she came face to face with a small room containing a single bed, small basin, and the window view of a brick wall. She pointed at the marks by the bed. Off-white stains on the ghastly green paint. Surely someone could see that needed a makeover.
