“January?” I ask.
“End of Jan for Bill,” Vanessa says, “but 20thof February for me. We’re going to different homes.” She’s trying to maintain a dignified face but I can see the pain in her eyes. She’s close to my grandfather. They are friends at a time of life you lose more friends that you make. To be forced away from someone you care about is doubly unfair.
“January, February. Makes no difference.” Bill shakes his head. “In the end. They have the upper hand. We’ve been beaten.”
“That’s too soon.” A few weeks. That won’t give anyone time to make different arrangements. “Too soon.” I repeat.
“Sooner for Jack.” Shirley says, her voice sharp with anger.
“Jack?” I turn to look for him.
“They decided to move him to a hospice,” Shirley continues. “Somewhere Jenkins knows. She’ll be moving there.”
“What? That’s not possible. We can’t let them move him where she’ll have him at her mercy.”
Everyone looks at me, eyes troubled.
“How long have you known about this?”
“Three days,” Bill says. “We didn’t want to upset you when you had so much to deal with after Raff went.”
Oh God, Raff would have known how to handle this. The need to call him hits me like a thrown knife, sharp and imperative.Raff, Raff, come back please. I call for him inside my head hoping the strength of my need can reach all the way to the Sahara.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get to say goodbye to Jack.” Philomena says
“What do you mean?”
I look around the games lounge unable to believe it. But the faces of the Squad all tell the same story of disappointment and helpless anger.
“They moved him to that hospice wherever it is” Shirley almost sobs. “They knew we wanted him with us, so they did it in the middle of the night while we were all asleep.”
“With our hearing aids off.” Gethin growls.
“No way,” I gasp. “He wanted to spend Christmas with us. They can’t move him.”
“They’ve done it already.” Bill tells me. He gets up from his wing chair and walks to stare out of the window. The afternoon sunlight seems all wrong, everything is wrong.
My despair battles with my rage. How could they? How could they be so cruel? Haven’t they done enough to abuse that poor old man, did they have to deny his Christmas wish? It’s just five days.
“I’ll bet it was that Mrs Jenkins’ doing. She hates him.” Deniro says.
Deniro is usually a man of few words, but when he has something important to say he’s never shy about speaking. “All of last week she’s been grumbling an old man should not be taken to a private house full of builders.”
I turn to him. “How does she even know we have builders?”
“It’s small village, and she’s a busybody.”
Bill turns to us. “I think it was decided before but they rushed the timetable yesterday because Jack was on the phone to his lawyer. He requested a private phone call and had to be taken into the office. He was there for a long, long time.”
“Yes and he asked for one of the nurses to witness something.”
“Oh yes,” DeNiro nods his handsome head. “Jenkins hovered in the corridor outside the office for quite a while. My guess she gets a backhander from the hospice for bringing them another customer, and she didn’t want to lose that.”
I look from him to Bill. “They can’t just move him. He’s not a package to be bought and sold.”
Gethin scoffs bitterly. “Oh yes he is, we all are. Don’t you know? We’re a very desirable commodity. Easy money.”
Easy money or not, Jack isn’t alone. I will fight for him. It’s one thing to force people to move by closing the care home, but move him now, against his will? They must bring him back. I’ll make sure of it.
