Martha thanked everyone for coming and said lots of nice things about my mum, Erica, and my dad, Don. She said something about the past few years having been especially difficult. But the bit that really stuck in my head was when she said that she and I had got them a present.
She said, ‘Mum, Dad, you are the best parents James and I could ever have hoped for and time and again you’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty to show us how deep your love is for us. It’s with this in mind that James and I would like to give you a present to say thank you.’
She gave my dad an envelope and told him and everyone watching that it was a three-week cruise for two around the Caribbean.
When everyone finished clapping, my dad thanked me and Martha for our very kind gift but in the taxi home he said to my mum, ‘But of course we can’t possibly go,’ and my mum said, ‘Of course, that goes without saying,’ and then my dad said, ‘I’m telling you now, Erica, Martha won’t like it one bit,’ and my mum said, ‘No, she definitely won’t.’
After a while of watching my mum, dad and sister pretending that they have not just been arguing, I lose interest and return to my room. I start my Friends episode over again because I like to watch things from start to finish. It still makes me laugh when Chandler sees Rachel naked. I like knowing that it will happen next. It makes me feel calm.
When I get to the scene where Monica sees Joey’s dad naked in the shower, there is a knock at the door. I pause the DVD as Martha comes into the room.
She glances at the TV. ‘Oh, I like this episode.’
‘It is really funny.’
‘I think it’s probably one of the best.’
‘You were not really going to see Liza were you?’
Martha sits down on the edge of my bed. ‘No, you’re right. I told a lie, James. I came here to see Mum and Dad to try and change their minds about taking the cruise.’
‘You said it was from both of us.’
‘And it was.’
‘But I did not give you any money.’
‘You don’t need to.’
‘But if it is a present for Mum and Dad, I want to. I have got money. Plenty of it.’
Martha nods. ‘Let’s talk about it later.’
She gives me a strange look but I do not know what it means. I sometimes have trouble working out what people mean by looks. My dad says that I was not always bad at working out what people mean by looks. He said I used to be excellent at it. He said that was why I was so good at my job in property development and why I would have made a good MP, ‘even if it was only for those bunch of bleeding-heart liberals you call the Labour Party.’ The company I started used to redevelop old office buildings and turn them into luxury apartments. I had to be good at negotiating and dealing with people face to face.
Martha is talking. She may have been doing so for quite some time.
‘James are you okay? I think I might have lost you for a minute there.’
I blink a few times.
Sometimes I can lose track of time. My mum calls it ‘having a moment’. Sometimes I can be in the middle of a conversation and ‘have a moment’ and not even realise I have stopped talking.
Martha rubs my arm gently. ‘I was talking to you about Mum and Dad, James. I was saying that I really think they need this holiday.’
Martha always thinks she knows what is best for everyone. I think she gets it from my mum.
‘It has got nothing to do with me. They told me on the way home last night that they do not want to go. I did not make them.’
‘That’s the thing, James,’ says Martha, ‘I don’t think that’s true. I think they would like to go – who wouldn’t want three weeks in the sun? – but they’re worried about leaving you.’
‘Well, if they are worried about that, I could just stay with you in Oxford.’
‘I wish you could, I really do but I’ve got work and you can’t be left on your own all day.’ Martha takes my hand. ‘I don’t want you to get upset, James, but I’ve suggested to Mum and Dad that while they’re away we find you a place to stay.’
‘I do not want to find a place to stay. I want to stay here.’
Martha closes her eyes like people do when they are trying not to cry. ‘You can’t stay here on your own, James, you just can’t. Remember we tried that once. Do you remember what happened?’
Bacon sandwiches.
She is talking about a while ago when my parents went out for the night and left me on my own. I got hungry and decided to make myself a bacon sandwich and I put some on to cook, but then I forgot all about what I was doing and went to watch a loud film upstairs in my room. I did not hear the smoke alarms because of the film and I only found out there was a problem when the fire brigade knocked down the front door.
‘I do not even like bacon sandwiches any more,’ I say, but Martha does not laugh, even though it is a joke and she knows I can tell jokes.
‘You can’t stay at home, my lovely,’ she says, ‘and you can’t stay with me either. Mum and Dad really need this holiday, James, they need it a lot. The thing is, they’re not as young as they used to be, they get tired easily and well, looking after you these past three years has really taken a lot out of them. I think they need a break and this holiday is it.’
‘But I do not want to stay anywhere else.’
‘It’ll only be for a short while and I promise I’ll visit you every weekend. It’ll be fun, like going on a holiday yourself. The place I’ve chosen for you is amazing. I went to visit and have a look around just this morning. They do all sorts of great activities. I promise you, you’ll love it so much the time will fly by.’
5
Danny
‘Here’s your breakfast, Harry.’
Harry, a bald-headed man of fifty-five, shakes his head while rocking gently back and forth, repeatedly growling something that sounds a lot like, ‘Aaaadoooowaaaaannnnnn,’ which I’m guessing means that he doesn’t want breakfast.
If it was up to me I’d say, ‘Fine, to be honest I’m not much of a breakfast person either,’ but it’s not, it’s up to his patient notes which state, ‘Patient prone to low blood sugar: must eat regularly.’ So there it is in black and white. Harry has got to eat his breakfast and it’s my job to encourage him.
Jean, one of the other care assistants here at Four Oaks, does an impressive line in bubbly that even the most truculent of residents finds difficult to resist. Mr Narwal in room G3, for instance, absolutely refuses to take his heart tablets. You should hear the fuss he kicks up over two blue ones and a white one, washed down with half a paper cup of water. Anyone would think we were trying to kill him the way he carries on. But the moment he kicks off, Jean starts singing ‘Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime’, and he’s like putty in her hands. The funny thing is she’s not even all that great at singing, she just sounds like someone’s mum singing old timey songs in the shower.
Now I’m no singer but I can at least have a go at jolly. So that’s what I do. ‘You’re havin’ a laugh aintcha, Harry?’ I say in my best cod-barrow boy accent. ‘Breakfast is a top meal! It’ll make you big and strong!’ To add weight to my argument I flex my arms as if I’m a strongman at a circus, rather than an exasperated trainee care assistant. It’s demeaning. Not just to Harry who, according to his medical records used to be a foreman at a local car parts manufacturer, but also to me because I’ve turned myself into a performing monkey. But it’s all part of the job. He needs to eat his breakfast and playing the fool helps achieve that aim.