The Reservoir Tapes

The young lady took some forms out of her briefcase, and spread them across the table, which wasn’t a great start. She talked about preliminary criteria and funding brackets, budgetary constraints and possible beneficial outcomes. She had a lot to say and she said it quickly.

Andrew was there, but he didn’t say anything. He was hovering in the doorway and he just watched, with that contented smile of his. Andrew said very little at the best of times. He had some educational needs.

The young lady wanted to do a tour of the house, firstly. She said she wanted to see what was what and go through her checklist: there were a number of additionals Irene and her son might be entitled to, but she had other appointments to get to, and she was in rather a hurry, so could they get started?

She was up with her clipboard before Irene had even replied. Asking questions about door-handles, grab-handles, chair-lifts, and who knew what else. She was brisk. As they went up the stairs, she asked how Irene managed with the shopping, with getting out and about, collecting her pension, getting to the bank. Any hobbies? Did her family live locally?

She seemed to have the wrong end of the stick. Irene wasn’t retired, and she didn’t have a pension to collect. She was a widow, certainly, and the very word made her feel terribly old. But she was working harder than ever. She’d had to, since Ted’s passing. She got some help, but the cash from her various cleaning jobs around the village was essential. And it was all cash. It got complicated otherwise. There were forms she’d have to fill in. She didn’t take to forms.

In the bathroom, the young lady asked questions Irene didn’t think were appropriate.

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In the kitchen Irene started making a pot of tea. The young lady was flicking through the papers from her briefcase. She had a calculator out on the table. Andrew was back in the doorway, just watching her. He still had the contented look about him.

What day is it? he asked the young lady.

It’s Sunday, isn’t it? She smiled at him, and at Irene. She seemed bemused.

Of course it’s Sunday, Andrew, Irene said; you know that. What sort of a question is that now? Don’t mind him, she told the young lady. He’ll ask funny questions sometimes.

Oh, no problem at all, the young lady said; it’s good to be sure. I forget what month it is sometimes, you know what I mean? She laughed, quickly, and took her phone out. She’d finalised the list of what they would be able to offer, she said. She just needed to call some details through to her manager.

Irene wanted to know why she couldn’t just take the paperwork back to her office, and the young lady gave her a confusing explanation about pre-approval. She started talking on the phone.

Andrew suddenly excused himself and went into the back garden. He could be abrupt sometimes. He knew his own mind. There was no point asking for explanation.

The young lady was arguing with her manager. That’s disgraceful, Irene heard her say. There must be something we can do; these people are entitled to our help. She put a hand over the phone and apologised to Irene.

There was a problem, she explained. Something about an overspend, something about needing to reallocate funds. She talked to her manager again.

Irene heard the side gate crash open, and saw Andrew going past the window.

The young lady was nodding a lot. She told Irene that some limited funds would be available if they could get the application in by the end of the day. She would just need a few more details, she said. And a deposit.

A deposit? Irene asked.

The young lady said something about means-tested contributions. She said they would make a final assessment later and the preliminary contribution might end up being almost minimal, but she did need to get something in that day due to the quarterly allocations deadline.

Irene said she didn’t know about all that.

The young lady put her phone down on the table, and gave Irene a look.

Can I be honest? she said. In the professional assessment of myself, you are not currently providing your son with the support he requires. I’m not a legal expert, she said, but in the event of anything happening with your son, this interview could be taken into account. There could be ramifications.

Ramifications?

If you could cooperate with the process, she said, that would be appreciated.

Irene told her she was cooperating, but it was a lot to take in.

And of course I am sorry to rush you, the young lady said. But we should make the most of this window of opportunity. You’ll be able to discuss it with your family at a later date and the deposit is of course returnable, but I do need to get it into the system today.

Well, Irene told her. If it was nothing final.

The young lady gave her a form to sign, did some more sums on her calculator, and said the deposit would be thirteen hundred pounds. She wouldn’t take a cheque, and nor could she arrange a bank transfer. Cash was essential, she said.

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