‘And then they’d pop back at lunchtime to make your—’
‘Why do I need this?’ He stares at Carly. ‘All this popping! I’m not having people poking around my flat—’
‘But Dad, theywon’tbe poking around,’ she insists.
‘They don’t have time for that.’ The nurse chuckles. ‘They’ll be in and out in minutes, Mr Munro. You’ll hardly see them. They’ll be ablur—’
‘Absolutely no way,’ he says firmly.
Shaking her head in disbelief, the nurse strides away.
Carly’s gaze is steady, meeting his. ‘It’s free, you know,Dad. The carer service, I mean. You won’t have to pay for it.’
‘All the more reason,’ he mutters. ‘I don’t want to waste resources—’ He breaks off as Ana reappears, carrying teas from the cafeteria. She’s a bit wild, that one, and he’s not keen on the silver nose ring or, for that matter, the tattoo. But despite this Kenny gets on well with his youngest grandchild. She’s always had an easy way about her, chattering happily about her art, and college, which he finds interesting. Kenny used to paint a little himself – mostly watercolours of the marina from his living room window. But since Maggie left, he’s lost his enthusiasm.
‘So I hear you won’t have carers, Granddad?’ Ana chides him. She places his tea on his bedside table.
‘No, I don’t need anyone looking after me.’
‘I know you don’t.’ She smiles knowingly. ‘So, are you going to miss the hospital food?’
‘I am, as a matter of fact. They serve just the right-sized portions here.’ He glances at Carly, detecting a subtle eye-roll from her, and then at his granddaughter. Even with her crazy pink hair, Ana seems to have grown up suddenly, in one huge jump. Maybe he hasn’t been paying attention.
‘So you’re going to take notice of sell-by dates now, then?’ Ana teases.
‘Hmm. We’ll see.’ His mouth twitches and he allows the smile to escape. ‘I’m not surewhatcaused all of this …’
‘No, we can’t imagine,’ Carly remarks. And then Frank appears, and there’s a kerfuffle as chairs are moved to allow space for him.
‘More visitors!’ Kenny retorts.
Frank smiles, leaning forward in his seat. ‘You’re looking much better, Kenny. That’s great to see.’
‘Thanks. I feel better.’ But now the less friendly nurse comes over, the one with the silver spectacles who’s always bustling past his bed as if he’s not even there. She reminds them sharply of the two-at-the-bedside rule, and Frank jumps up.
‘I’ll wait for you in the cafeteria,’ he tells Carly and Ana. ‘Bye for now, Kenny. Sorry to be rushing off. We’ll come to take you home tomorrow, okay? If you let us know when you’re ready to leave?’
‘Thanks.’ Kenny nods his gratitude, briefly.
The nurse frowns at Kenny. ‘So it’s not ideal, discharging you without a care plan in place. But it’s your choice—’
‘I know that,’ Kenny retorts.
She is clutching a sheaf of papers in a cardboard folder. His notes, he assumes. What have they been writing about him? ‘I’m not happy about it,’ she adds.
He catches Carly looking at Ana again, who’s sitting at her side. The sideways glances, the notes; it all goes on around him and Kenny isn’t having this. ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself,’ he tells the nurse firmly. ‘And I’m not having any carers—’
‘Dad, are you sure about this?’ Carly leans forward.
‘I’ve never been more sure about anything!’
‘Right then.’ Carly stands up, quickly followed by Ana. ‘We’re just going to nip downstairs and find Frank …’
‘Oh. All right.’ Another look passes, this time between his daughter and granddaughter and the nurse. All thissilent communication! Why doesn’t anyone just spit out what they want to say?
‘We’ll be back in a bit, Dad,’ Carly says, touching his hand lightly. ‘Don’t be running off anywhere, okay?’
Chapter Twenty-eight
