‘I definitely am.’
He sighed and dunked a biscuit in his tea.
Next through the door was Kellie Timmony, in sharp contrast to Mr Forte, she appeared to be in good health, but appearances, Alice knew, meant nothing.
‘Come in,’ she said, aware of Gracie pouring an orange juice for the new arrival, before leaving Alice alone with a thumbs-up from the doorway.
‘Dr Millen’s not taking the group any more,’ Mr Forte said before Kellie had even taken her seat.
‘Oh! Right.’ Kellie brightened considerably.
‘Since it’s just going to be the three of us today,’ Alice said, which made Mr Forte glance to the door, probably still hoping for Millen to appear and say this had all been a prank, ‘Let’s get started. I’ve got your exercise regimes here in my notes.’ She reached for the ball, and Mr Forte rolled his eyes.
After a slow kick around the room while the three remained seated, a word-search exercise which Mr Forte found a good deal easier than Kellie, and a series of chin tucks and head manoeuvres, Alice had performed nearly all of the activities on her list and taken notes to send back to the stroke team at the hospital.
‘Before we make our circuits,’ Alice said, and Kellie audibly groaned at the prospect, ‘it says here we need to update our long-term goals. Goal setting is an important part of recovery, as you know.’
Mr Forte cut in. ‘Mine’s not changed. I want the sign off so I can get back on my motorbike.’
Alice nodded, writing this down.
‘And what doyouwant, Kellie?’ she asked, worrying immediately that she sounded patronising like a Santa’s grotto elf.
Kellie didn’t speak.
‘Go on, lass. Tell her what you told Dr Millen,’ encouraged Clyde Forte, who wasn’t grouchy with everyone, it seemed.
Kellie appeared unsure but she cleared her throat before speaking. ‘I just… I just want my spark back.’
Mr Forte nodded sadly at this, as though he’d given up hope of rediscovering his own.
‘I just want to feel like me again, but… will walking round the surgery carpark do that? Or kicking that bloody ball? Or…’ Kellie stopped, shamefaced. ‘Sorry, I just…’
‘I know,’ said Alice. ‘I know.’
Alice thought of their lives put on hold while they recovered, thought of the frustration and the pain, and the fear these two had been through, and there’d be their family’s shock and worry to deal with too, or – she wondered about Mr Forte – dealing with this by themselves. Progress in stroke recovery, Alice had read, was often accompanied by setbacks, emotional and physical. All of this seemed written as plain as day on Mr Forte’s face and in Kellie’s downcast eyes.
Alice spoke on. ‘Listen. I know I’ve just appeared in your lives as if from nowhere, but I do want to help, and I’m qualified to help you…’
‘You’re no Dr Millen,’ grunted Mr Forte.
‘Thank God,’ whispered Kellie.
‘I think Icanhelp…’ Alice went on.
Mr Forte sniffed a sharp little laugh. ‘Dr Millenwas helping. He’s been in our lives since Kellie was born, since my Rosie was in the surgery’s mother and baby group…’ A wash of emotion stoppered his voice and he, just like Kellie, looked on the verge of tears.
Alice, not knowing what to do, reached for the referral letters on her desk. ‘I do have something I can offer you, something new.’
Mr Forte fixed her with a look that said he already wasn’t interested. Kellie didn’t look up at all.
‘It’s a community gardening project, actually,’ she began, and even though she knew she was fighting a losing battle, she went on to sing the project’s praises to the people she at least hoped would be her first two recruits.
17
Mid-week and the children taking part in the woodwork class were not from Shell Cooper’s class –shewas in primary three; these were thebabiesfrom primary one. But her mum, Livvie, had spoken with Mrs Hendry, her teacher, who’d then spoken with the Head, to ask if Shell could be allowed to join the little ones in their high-viz vests, tramping in pairs along the road to the repair shed for their weekly woodworking lessons.
Shell wasn’t supposed to have overheard their conversation about it at home time but since all the grown-ups insisted on talking about her like she wasn’t standingright there, she’d heard everyone agree that Shell would benefit from frequent sightings of her mother while she was ‘reintegrating’ and being ‘brought back out of herself’. What shehadn’tbeen privy to was her mum’s idea that it didn’t hurt to expose her to nice, gentle men like Cary Anderson.
