Beth drank her tea and debated whether to poke her head around the door and ask if he’d like a cup. Then she decided against it, in case he needed the loo. She didn’t mind makinghim a cuppa or fetching him something from the kitchen, but she drew the line at helping him to the bathroom, even if she didn’t have to accompany him inside. And Walter seemed to need to go an awful lot. No sooner had he been helped into bed, he’d decided he needed the toilet, so Otto had to help him out of it and help him to get to the loo, then help him get back into bed. For Walter, a simple trip to the toilet involved an awful lot of helping, and right now Beth didn’t feel up to it.
She suspected she never would.
However, in the interest of being nice (ornicer, at least) Beth vowed to help where she felt able.
Before too long, she heard someone stirring upstairs and shortly afterwards Dulcie appeared, bleary-eyed and yawning.
‘I’m not going to ask if you had a good night,’ Beth said, ‘because I know you didn’t. How many times did Walter get Otto out of bed?’
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Beth could have kicked herself. So much for her vow to be nicer. But how could she be nice when her daughter looked exhausted?
Dulcie didn’t reply; instead she asked, ‘Do you want another cup of tea?’
Beth leapt to her feet, or as close to leaping as she got at her age. ‘I’ll make it. You sit down. Can I get you some breakfast?’
Dulcie shuddered. ‘No thanks. Too early for me. I’ll have something in a bit. Is Walter awake?’
‘No idea.’
‘I don’t think I’ll disturb him. We’ll let him sleep, shall we? He needs his rest.’
What about me?Beth thought.Don’t I need my rest too?She’d had a traumatic couple of days, what with the stress of moving and the subsequent disappointment. But when her inner voice told her to stop being so selfish, she had to admit it was justified. Shewasbeing selfish. Jealous, too, because Dulcie never showedhersuch concern.
It made her feel rather sad.
She didn’t expect thanks for anything she’d done for her kids, but a bit of consideration now and again wouldn’t go amiss.
Telling herself that things would pick up when she was living in her own house, Beth tried to look on the bright side: she could now see her girls whenever she wanted (within reason, of course), and she hoped to soon make friends in the village.
She could also be involved in the farm, because living in Picklewick meant that she would no longer feel left out. The fact that Walter would also be involved was a cross she would simply have to grin and bear.
‘I can manage.’ Walter sounded as cross as he felt, despite it being patently obvious that he wasn’t able to manage the stairs without help.
Otto regarded him patiently, and Walter felt a stab of remorse. He ought not to be so grumpy, but he couldn’t stop himself. He’d had a dreadful night’s sleep, partly because his leg was giving him grief, partly because he hadn’t been able to settlein a strange bed, and also because he kept fretting that he would need the loo and wouldn’t get there in time.
It had taken him ages to heave himself out of bed and walk out the back to the downstairs bathroom, and that waswithOtto’s help. So he’d lain there worrying, until he’d worried himself into needing to go. Getting up once in the night was normal: three times was a damned nuisance. And it hadn’t helped that Otto had kept coming downstairs to check on him.
Between one thing and another, Walter had only managed an hour’s sleep here and an hour there.
He used his good leg and his arms to haul his backside onto the next step. Then he sat there for a couple of seconds, panting.
‘Are you sure you won’t have a shower?’ Otto asked. ‘We can wrap your cast in cling film and pop a bag over it.’
‘I can’t stand for long enough, can I?’
‘I’m sure we can find something for you to sit on. A plastic garden chair perhaps?’
‘It won’t fit.’
‘Something else then…’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to have a think.’
‘Don’t take too long – I want a bath today, not next week,’ Walter snapped. He knew he’d gone too far when Otto’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. Hastily, Walter attempted some damage control. None of this was Otto’s fault, and it wasn’t fair to take it out on him, especially since Otto was doing his best.
‘I’ll have a strip wash in the downstairs bathroom,’ he said with a resigned sigh.
