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‘And this one?’ A colour photograph of Miss Palmer, done up in waterproofs and walking boots, standing on high ground. Next to her, Cass had her arms held aloft in an unmistakable salute to some victory or other.
‘Ah, yes.’ Miss Palmer shot Cass a smile. ‘We climbed Snowdon.’
‘Miss Palmer raised a whole chunk of money...’ Cass added and Miss Palmer straightened a little with quiet pride.
‘Surprising how much people will sponsor you for when you’re in your seventies.’ A slight inclination of the head, as if Miss Palmer was sharing a secret. ‘They think you’re not going to make it to the top.’
‘We showed them, though.’ Cass broke in again.
‘Yes, dear. We did.’ Jack found himself on the end of one of Miss Palmer’s quizzical looks. She was probably checking that he understood the point that she’d just made. If she could do all this, then a flood wasn’t driving her from her home.
‘I’ll go and make the tea. Make yourselves comfortable.’ Martin sat down suddenly, as if responding to an order. Jack reckoned that any prolonged exposure to Miss Palmer would have that effect on someone.
‘I’ll come and give you a hand.’ Jack ignored Cass’s raised eyebrows, motioning for her to stay put. He wanted to speak with Miss Palmer on her own.
She bustled, tight lipped, around the small modern kitchen. Jack gave her some space, leaning in the doorway his arms folded.
‘So. What are we going to do, then?’
Miss Palmer faced him with a look of controlled ferocity. Jack imagined that she was used to a whole class quailing into silence at that.
‘I had assumed you might be off duty.’ She glared at his T-shirt and sweater.
‘I’m never off duty. I dare say you can understand that.’ Miss Palmer didn’t stop being a teacher as soon as she was out of the classroom. And Jack didn’t stop being a paramedic just because his ambulance had been wrecked and his uniform soaked through.
‘Yes, I do.’ She laid cups and saucers carefully on a tray.
‘Your friends are concerned about you. My job is to find out whether that concern is justified. To check whether you’re okay, and if you are to leave you alone.’
Miss Palmer’s set expression seemed to soften a little. ‘This house is well above the flood line, and I’m lucky enough to have electricity and my phone still. Is it so much to ask, that I stay in my own home?’
‘No. And I’ll do my best to make sure that happens, but you’ve got to help me. If we can address any potential problems now, then that’s a good first step.’
‘Is this the way you deal with all the old ladies?’
‘Yes, of course. Is this the way you deal with all your pupils?’
Miss Palmer smiled suddenly, her blue eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘A hundred lines, young man. I will not answer back.’
Jack chuckled. He could see why Cass liked her so much; they were birds of a feather. Both as feisty as hell, with a sense of humour. ‘Are you on any medication?’
Miss Palmer walked to the refrigerator and drew out a cardboard packet, which Jack recognised. ‘Warfarin. What’s that for—you have a blood clot?’
‘A very small one. The doctors picked it up on a routine screening six months ago. I had an appointment for an X-ray a couple of days ago, to see whether the clot had dissolved yet, but I couldn’t make it.’
‘Okay. When was your last INR test?’
‘Two weeks. I can’t get to the hospital.’
‘I’ll get a test sent over; I can do one here.’
Miss Palmer nodded. ‘Thank you. My INR is usually quite steady but...’
‘Best to check.’ The Warfarin would be thinning her blood to dissolve the clot. The INR test made sure that the dose was correct. ‘Do you have some way of calling someone? In an emergency?’
Miss Palmer opened a cupboard and reached inside, producing a panic alarm.
‘Is that working?’ First things first. Then he’d tell her that there wasn’t much point in keeping it in the cupboard.
