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Connie’s aroused state switched to sinking dismay when she saw it was her mother calling again. Talk about bad timing.
With a deep breath, she answered the phone, trying to sound like a supportive daughter and not a petulant teenager whose date had been interrupted. ‘Yes, Mum, what is it?’
‘The thingy’s disappeared,’ her mother said, sounding flustered.
Connie didn’t have time to decipher another of her mother’s incomprehensible ramblings. ‘What is it you’re trying to do, Mum?’
‘On the iPad. One minute it was there, the next it had vanished.’
‘You were trying to do something on your iPad? Can you be more specific? What were you looking at? Facebook? iPlayer?’
When Beth had suggested buying her grandma an iPad, Connie had been sceptical, not least because Doris found it extremely difficult to remember new instructions these days. But her daughter had convinced her it would stimulate her grandma’s brain and enable the family to stay in touch more easily. Of course, Beth hadn’t factored in that Connie would be the one expected to provide round the clock technical support and that her IT skills weren’t exactly on a par with those of Bill Gates.
‘It was there, then it wasn’t.’ Her mother was breathing heavily. ‘Where has it gone?’
‘I can’t answer that, Mum.’ She lit the hob, placing the pan of buttered asparagus on top. ‘It’ll have to wait until tomorrow, when I come over.’
‘Can’t you come over now?’
Connie closed her eyes and willed away her agitation. ‘No, Mum. I’m just about to serve dinner.’
‘But I wanted to look at the thingy on my iPad.’
Connie supressed a sigh. ‘Can’t you watch TV instead?’
‘Have I broken the iPad?’
‘You won’t have broken it, Mum. Whatever it is, it will still be there. Leave it for now and I’ll look at it tomorrow, okay? Please don’t worry, we’ll sort it out.’ Connie checked the timer. Her carefully developed plan was in danger of going south if she didn’t return to the dining room soon. She had to capitalise on the good progress she’d made. Kenneth was beginning to soften towards her, she just knew it. ‘I need to go now, Mum. I’ll call you in the morning.’
‘Aren’t you bringing over dinner?’
‘The carer gave you dinner earlier.’
‘No, they didn’t. I haven’t seen anyone all day.’
This wasn’t true, but her mother was clearly in one of her belligerent moods. ‘Yes, you have. Now, go and watch some TV, okay?’
‘I’ll call Beth. She’ll make me dinner. She won’t leave me to starve.’
Connie bit down on her lip, battling the urge to say something she’d regret and knowing darn well that her mother would remember it – even if she forgot everything else. That, it seemed, was the real cruelty of dementia. For the carer, anyway.
With great effort, Connie kept her temper and said through gritted teeth, ‘You call Beth, if that’s what you want.’ Knowing full well that Beth would give her grandma the same answer. ‘Night, Mum. See you tomorrow.’
Connie ended the call, the brief relief she felt instantly replaced by guilt. She tried so hard to be patient, yet it was just so difficult sometimes. But there was nothing that could be done tonight. Her estranged husband, however… well, that was a different matter.
Having checked the chicken and seasoned the hasselback potatoes, Connie returned to the dining room with a renewed determination to win over her ex-husband. A feeling that withered slightly when she realised he was on the phone to Tiffany.
‘You know where I am,’ he mumbled into the phone. ‘I told you. Yes, I did… Don’t be like that, honey. You know how I feel about you.’
Connie topped up her wine – she needed a stiffener.
Tiffany clearly wasn’t happy about Kenneth meeting up with his ex. Good. Maybe it was time to make the little minx suffer a bit more.
‘Kenneth, darling!’ she trilled deliberately loudly, making her ex-husband flinch. ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you were on the phone.’ She feigned mortification, waving her hand and pulling a distressed face – her daughter wasn’t the only one who could act. ‘Apologies. More wine, darling?’
Kenneth flushed an odd colour and turned away, mumbling into the phone, ‘It’s not what you think,’ and ‘of course, I still love you.’
Connie took another slug of wine, relishing trouble in paradise, before reminding herself that she was supposed to take it easy with the booze. Alcohol had a habit of fuelling her behaviour, both good and bad. Instead, she loosened her dress to enhance the gap at the front. Tiffany wasn’t the only one who could play games.
