A Proposal to Remember

‘There are things you can do that might help with that.’ Anna sat down on the corner of the desk. ‘Like keeping everything in the same place and having a routine. Put telephone numbers by the phone and label cupboards to help her remember where things live in the house. I’ve got a leaflet somewhere with practical tips—I’ll look it out for you although I’m sure the clinic will be able to give you something, too.’

Glenda buried her face in her hands. ‘I just don’t want her to have to go into a home. But I know that I can’t carry on like this either, and that makes me feel so selfish.’

‘You’re not selfish, Glenda,’ Anna said quietly, ‘and it’s about finding a compromise that works for both of you. Why don’t you stop worrying about it until after the appointment? The consultant will be able to assess your mother properly and give you some idea of the future and the options available.’

Glenda nodded and breathed out heavily. ‘I suppose that’s good advice. It’s just that your mind keeps running forward. What if she just can’t manage at home any more? What if she isn’t safe? To be honest, every morning when I leave the house I wonder whether she’s going to have burned it down by the time I come home. It’s a nightmare.’

‘Well, there are definitely practical things you can do to at least help in that department,’ Anna reminded her. ‘You can get safety devices installed—gas detectors, smoke alarms, that sort of thing.’

Glenda nodded. ‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose admitting there’s a problem is the first step to doing something about it. At least now it’s out in the open.’ She looked at Anna and her eyes filled. ‘I was so afraid that I’d lose my job.’

‘You’re part of the practice, Glenda,’ Anna said gruffly, leaning forward and giving the older woman a hug. ‘You belong here and we’ll work through this together. You’ll never lose your job.’

Glenda scrubbed her palm across her face and sniffed loudly. ‘Don’t be kind to me. It makes it worse. But you’re such a lovely girl. And your dad would have been so proud of you.’

‘It’s going to be OK, Glenda,’ Anna said softly. ‘We’ll work something out. Somehow we’ll get you whatever help you need.’

* * *

The issue of Glenda and her mother occupied Anna’s mind for the next few days, and she managed to do a reasonable job of avoiding Sam. As usual, she ate lunch on the run and in the evening she headed for the beach and jogged along the sand, returning just late enough to avoid the possibility of sharing dinner. She didn’t want to sit down opposite Sam again. Didn’t want to risk feeling something that she didn’t want to feel. Something complicated.

All in all, she was doing fine. Life was back to normal.

It was just a shame she couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind, she thought crossly as she pushed open the door of the surgery first thing one morning.

It was just because it had been so unexpected, she consoled herself. They’d had a nice evening—she frowned as she remembered it, an unusually nice evening—and they’d both just got a bit carried away. Weren’t emotions always more intense at night-time? If they kissed during the day they probably wouldn’t feel anything at all. Nothing.

When she walked into Reception, Glenda was already at her desk, looking more relaxed than she had in weeks.

‘How did it go? I tried to call you last night.’ Anna knew Glenda had taken her mother to the hospital the day before but when she’d tried to phone there’d been no answer.

Glenda blushed slightly. ‘Actually, after we got back from the hospital, I went for a drink with a friend. I needed to relax and Mum seemed fine so I popped out.’

Anna hid her curiosity, even though she was dying to ask whether the ‘friend’ was male or female. Privately she hoped it was male. Glenda needed someone to brighten up her life. ‘So what did the hospital say?’

‘They were really positive and helpful, actually,’ Glenda admitted, brushing her hair away from her face. ‘And they had lots of amazingly practical suggestions. Like looking for things that trigger her aggressive behaviour. When I talked about it with them, I realised that she gets really, really angry just before she goes to the toilet. So now I know that I need to watch for that and make sure that she gets to the toilet. Who would have thought it could have been brought on by something as simple as that?’

Anna nodded. ‘What else?’

‘Well, they’ve got this great day centre where she can go and get involved in all sorts of activities. They do things like art and music therapy. Apparently it gives patients a sense of achievement and that helps to ease some of the frustration.’

‘And it means that you can relax, knowing that she’s in safe hands.’ Anna was relieved that Glenda had been offered some help and support.

Glenda nodded. ‘And you were right about them giving me lots of practical tips. They’re going to send a nurse round to assess the home, but they’ve said that it’s important to minimise clutter. Apparently that should help to reduce Mum’s agitation.’

Anna grinned. ‘Hope they never come and look at my house. I invented clutter.’

‘And I can vouch for that.’ Sam strolled up, smothering a yawn. He looked as though he hadn’t been sleeping properly. ‘Living with you, Riggs, is a bit like being in a permanent car boot sale. It’s a good job your house purchase fell through. You and your belongings never would have fitted into old Jack Lawson’s place on the beach. If it didn’t already suffer from subsidence, it would have done the minute you moved in. No building could stand the weight of your belongings.’

Anna scowled at him. ‘And you’re so domesticated and tidy, of course.’

Sam smiled and winked at Glenda. ‘At least I can cook.’

‘I can cook.’ Anna put her hands on her hips and her eyes flashed. How could she have wanted to kiss him? All she wanted to do at the moment was punch him for being so smug and infuriating. ‘It’s just I don’t choose to spend my time slaving over a hot stove for something that vanishes within seconds of being put on the table. It’s the ultimate waste of time.’

‘What you do to food can’t be described as cooking. Is that for me, Glenda?’ Sam leaned across the reception desk and picked up his post. ‘By the way, we’re filming the emergency clinic this morning. And then this afternoon I’m doing a piece to camera on the beach.’

‘Will you be wearing your wet suit and carrying a surfboard?’ Anna’s tone dripped sarcasm and he gave her a solemn look, one that he often used for the camera when he was addressing a serious topic.