“The north wing is the worst.” Evan explains. “Lots of piled up old furniture, some of it broken, also glass panels and mirrors stacked up which can break easily. When we cleared the other wings, we stored everything there until we have time to go through it and assess what can be kept or repaired. The west wing has less furniture but is still untouched. Cracked and rotten floorboards, aside from the dust and cobwebs, it has trailing wires everywhere, threadbare curtains.”
Bill takes out a small flip notebook from his jacket pocket and starts writing into it.
“Both wings have no electricity yet,” Evan continues. “So, they’re dark and grim. And they might have rats or—”
“No, they don’t.” Haneen cuts in passionately. “You cleaned out all that last year. Vermin need something to eat, they can’t eat dust.”
She’s trying very hard to inject a little positivity into the meeting and to defend Evan’s work. But he, like Bill is now very businesslike, stating facts with no emotion, the way actors play a man in a serious meeting.
“How accessible are both wings?” Bill asks.
Haneen, again replies, replies. “They’re not. There are doors off the central part of the house which lead to each wing. Both doors are locked.”
“However,” Evan says, still calm and matter of fact. “They’re not the only problem. “The top floors of the other two wings, south, and east haven’t been touched yet either. They’re not terrible, because we’ve partially rewired and plumbed both wings, but the floors are in a bad state. I wouldn’t want anyone walking on them.”
“The problem, as I see it, is that we’re open to the public.” Alex adds speaking directly to Bill. “Aside from the afternoon tea, we’ve had more than a few workshops for the teenagers from the village.”
Llewellyn nods. “My business hub is in constant use, seven days a week. On some days, that’s as many as ten people.”
It’s incredible how within moments Bill has become the focus of the meeting and everyone defers to him. Now he turns to Evan. “Do you have any paperwork from this surveyor who’s planning to come?”
“Nothing yet. Just a phone call this morning. Haneen took it while I was out. That’s why we’re having this emergency meeting. He wants to come next Wednesday at 11:00 a.m.”
Bill frowns “This is very irregular. You should have had letters not a phone call. When the council investigate, they usually give you notice in writing. And they never act so quickly after a complaint. My guess is these are private surveyors.”
For the first time, Evan looks optimistic. “Does this mean I don’t have to allow them into the property?”
Bill exchanges a look with Raff who lifts his eyebrows in a ‘that’s what I thought’ expression. As if they’d both talked about this before.
“That’s good news, isn’t it?” Alex asks looking more optimistic. “If it’s not the council, a private surveyor doesn’t have any powers. You can stop them coming into your home.”
“Unless…” Raff speaks for the first time.
Every head turns to him.
“Unless he’s been commissioned by The Glyn, or more accurately the parent organisation, Cotes Care Homes.” He reaches into his breast pocket for a folded page.
What have they been cooking up? Bill and Raff seem to have done a lot of digging up after they hustled me out of The Glyn early.
“The Safeguarding Adult Act.” He unfolds the page and reads from it. “It’s a legislative framework for those working in care homes and similar facilities. It allows for an independent advocate to act on behalf of vulnerable adults” – he nods to Bill – “That’s you and the Squad I’m afraid. The act is there to make sure you’re not put at risk.”
“No one was put at risk,” I can’t help speaking out. “I took every precaution. The main room where we had the tea party was spotless. Not a single nail or screw or anything. And the same for the passage to the bathroom.” Tears sting my eyes. With everyone round the table, the phone call from the surveyor, the file full of paperwork, it all seems so real. What have I brough on their heads.
Unexpectedly, it’s the professor, who takes my hand and squeezes it. “No one blames you. We’re all grown-ups. We all took part, even enjoyed, your tea parties.”
“What are you saying?” Haneen asks Raff, now. “This private surveyor has powers to…what exactly? Come into our home?”
“He doesn’t have powers,” Raff answers her. “But as the place open to the public, what’s to stop him just strolling in? Once here, he can make notes, take pictures to add to his findings which will then be presented to whoever commissioned him. The care home, I think.”
Haneen and Evan exchange a wordless look. I can almost read the name Owen in the air between them.
“And the care home might apply to the council for an emergency closure.”
“And the council will close us down while their slow wheels turn,” Evan says leaning back in his chair as if realising the uselessness of any further discussion.
Everyone looks defeated. Only Watson looks smug. “So, I repeat, the best option is to compromise. Offer to sell part of the house to someone who can rebuild and that will take care of the problem.”
“My advice,” Bill starts and everyone looks at him, hoping he has something good to say. “Tell this fellow he can’t come now. Tell him you're closing for Christmas.”
