From Fling To Wedding Ring. Karin Baine

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ ideas towards, or from, a woman whose smile faltered any time he paid a visit to shared patients. He’d even felt her flinch today when they’d happened to come into close proximity and almost sympathised with those she’d shown her obvious contempt for in the past. She didn’t know him any more than he knew her and, though it would be easy to believe those rumours that she hated men, he knew not to take the gossipmongers at face value.

      Despite the lack of chemistry required for a dance partnership, this would’ve provided him with an uncomplicated route to the finish line of this fundraising born out of necessity rather than a desire to strut his stuff on a public dance floor.

      His mobile phone vibrated in his pocket and he made a quick dash for the exit to answer it to avoid disturbing the clinic any further. Thankfully the noise of running car engines and nearby construction drowned out the profanity that did slip out of his mouth this time when he saw who it was calling, because it meant there was undoubtedly another catastrophe happening at home.

      ‘Is everything all right, Grandad?’

      ‘Someone’s stolen my glasses. I think it’s that woman who comes here every morning.’ Unfortunately, as had become the custom, the phone call was not to check in with Ben but to launch another accusation about the carer who came in to make his grandfather’s meals when he was at work. He was sure she’d no more stolen his glasses today than she had sewn up the cuffs of his cardigan when he couldn’t get it on last week. The truth was Hugh Sheridan was getting old, and struggling to live with this cruel illness more every day, even if neither of them were ready to acknowledge it yet.

      He’d lost so much weight due to the meals he’d forgotten to eat, or the out-of-date food he’d sickened himself with, it had become apparent he could no longer look after himself, but it had been a job for Ben to get him to move into his apartment where he could keep an eye on him. In the end he’d had to convince him he wanted the company, not that he believed his grandfather was a danger to himself. The move had been the final nail in the coffin of his relationship with Penny and everyone else who was afraid they might be expected to play nursemaid to a septuagenarian.

      Even his own parents had abandoned them, because it suited them and their jet-set lifestyle to let Ben assume the role of carer. Not that he’d expect anything more from people who’d given up on their son so easily. They would’ve been as happy to pack his grandfather off to an old people’s home as they had been to send their wayward child away without a second thought about why he’d fallen in with a bad crowd. It was easier on their consciences to absolve themselves of any responsibility other than a visit on special occasions or the odd phone call than to examine their own failure as parents.

      Underage drinking, graffiti...vandalism had all seemed like harmless fun in the company of the wrong crowd, as had defying his parents, until he’d pushed them to breaking point. He saw now his actions had shown a desperate need for someone to provide boundaries and guide him in the right direction when he’d been too easily seduced by the idea of rebellion. An unheeded cry for help. It had taken the faith and courage of his grandparents to see that there was someone worth saving beneath that troublesome exterior when not even his parents had been convinced.

      Although he maintained some semblance of a relationship with them, it was always at the back of his mind that they might still be waiting for his illustrious career to come crashing down around him in another fit of self-destruction. Despite turning his life around, there was a distance between them that suggested they were afraid to become too proud of him in case the day ever came when they’d get the chance to say, ‘See, we knew he was a wrong ’un.’

      Regardless of his career success, they justified their absence from his life by pointing out he didn’t have any children for them to come back for. As if they would have been any more attentive to grandchildren than to their only son. Deserting him when he was in need of their help now as an adult didn’t hurt any less than it had as a teenager, it merely reinforced the belief he wasn’t important enough in their lives to deserve time out of their busy schedule. It had been just him and his grandfather for some time now.

      They were the only tie he still had to that old life and perhaps that was the reason he kept them at arm’s length, too—they were a reminder of times that didn’t make him particularly proud of himself and were a far cry, hopefully, from the respected man he’d become. He didn’t blame his parents for becoming exasperated with their son’s behaviour, he knew now how stressed they must have been, but neither did he credit them with any part of his success since. That was reserved for the man who was currently wandering his apartment in search of more misplaced personal items.

      ‘That’s Amy, remember? She comes to help out when I’m at work.’ It had been getting harder by the day to juggle his time here at the hospital and at home and she’d been a godsend as far as Ben was concerned. At least now he could go into Theatre with the knowledge there’d be someone to check that the apartment hadn’t burned down in his absence. His grandfather was becoming more and more forgetful, as well as belligerent, as the cruel spectre of dementia hovered around him.

      There was an unintelligible grumble on the other end of the line suggesting he didn’t entirely trust his grandson’s version of events. As though there were collusion going on between the two of them to gradually steal his belongings and sanity piece by painful piece.

      ‘Have you checked the bathroom window sill? Sometimes you leave them there.’ Or actually in the bath, where he’d found the TV remote control last night.

      ‘I didn’t leave them anywhere. She’s taken them.’ His grandfather adamantly continued his protest without considering any alternative reason for the disappearing spectacles. It was this continual forgetfulness and paranoia that was hard to get used to but, thankfully, the good days still outnumbered the bad. The man who’d practically raised him was still more present than this somewhat more difficult version, or his parents. With Amy’s added help, they were able to function as normally as could be expected.

      However, it didn’t take a medical professional to understand this wasn’t an illness that would be miraculously cured. There was little even a skilled surgeon could do to prevent dementia taking hold of a beloved family member except help him cling onto his independence and dignity as long as possible. And perhaps help him find any misplaced personal possessions. The least he could do for the man who’d given him a second chance when no one else would.

      ‘Do you want me to come back and help you find them?’ He checked his watch. Now that he wouldn’t be discussing dance steps or music choices he had a little time before his next appointment. Although that time could’ve been better utilised answering the hundreds of emails he received every day, half an hour retracing his grandfather’s steps around the apartment would probably put both of their minds at rest for the remainder of the afternoon. Even if it was a stark contrast to the one he’d imagined.

      ‘No. You’re busy, son. There are a lot of people depending on you... I don’t know who she thinks she is just letting herself in here when she feels like it...’ Sometimes it was hard to tell if the moment of lucidity had passed or he was just having a bad-tempered rant because his independence was being compromised.

      ‘I’m not due back in surgery for a while. I can spare ten minutes to see if I can help you find these glasses.’ He’d make a call to Amy, too, to apologise for any extra rudeness she might have encountered on this morning’s visit, although her previous experience of caring for elderly patients seemed to make her quite impervious to her charge’s changeable moods.

      ‘Why would I need help finding my glasses? Sure, they’re right here in my pocket where they always are.’ The gruff denial that he needed help ended the call abruptly and left Ben standing outside the hospital contemplating whether or not to go back inside.

      It СКАЧАТЬ