Sofia had never really done old people. Her mother, Isabella, had returned to her native Spain after the messy divorce from Sofia’s father, Patrick. Isabella had then spent the next forty years caring for her own mother, Lucia, who as far as Sofia could see had been a mean and bitter old hag. Her grandmother had lived to a hundred and one and only released her daughter from the burden of looking after her a couple of years ago, having scuppered any chance Isabella had for another romance.
Her father’s parents were already dead when Sofia was born, as indeed Patrick was now, felled by a huge stroke while in bed with his second wife, which was fittingly ironic. She conjured up his big handsome face in her mind, along with memories of days out as a child, she on her father’s shoulders, while her mother gazed adoringly at him. It had been a picture book childhood, full of trips to the zoo and holidays abroad. Until he’d taken a big hammer and smashed it all apart. He’d have been ninety-four this year, this very month in fact, had he lived. Why was she suddenly giving him headspace? He had barely figured in her thoughts for years.
Maddie’s coffee cup was halfway to her mouth.
‘The residents irritate me? Of course not. I care about each and every one of them. Do you seriously think I could do this as a job if theyirritatedme? I’m missing some of my favourites already. I’ve never had three weeks away from them before.’
‘Sorry. That was a bit crass of me. I was just thinking about my grumpy grandmother and the way she treated my mother.’
‘Apology accepted.’ Maddie reached over. ‘Try thebougatsa. They’re amazing.’
Sofia had to admit that the custard filling was dreamy. But she hadn’t finished. She’d not had a chance to talk to Maddie about her work for ages. And it would keep them off the subject of her own job, somewhere she didn’t want to go quite yet.
‘Can I ask you a sensitive question?’
‘Fire away.’
‘How do you cope with the death of the residents? Given the very nature of your job, it must happen fairly regularly.’
Sofia was genuinely interested. She couldn’t imagine being surrounded by all that death and decay every day. Just the thought of her mother departing this world was enough to throw her into a panic.
Maddie swallowed the last of the orange cake.
‘It does happen regularly, as you say, and you are always sad. You have a little tear and move on. But because you’re one step removed, it doesn’t hit you anyone near as hard as when it’s personal.’
Maddie staring into space made Sofia determined not to let her dwell on Tony again.
‘And can you honestly say you know them all? Everyone in the home?’
Maddie’s eyes were back in focus.
‘Of course not. It’s not school. You get to know some residents better than others, but they all have such interesting stories to tell when you sit and listen. People tend to forget that they had full lives before going into a care home, and it’s usually a last resort, and always a difficult decision for the relatives. We understand that, and the relatives need support as well. There’s so much guilt when someone can no longer cope with a parent or a partner.’
‘My mother would have been a lot better off putting my grandmother in a home when she became frail. She’s still fit and well, thankfully, but it’s too late for her to start over.’
‘Is it? Is it ever too late to change your life?’
The intensity of Maddie’s gaze made Sofia look away.
‘Is that aimed at me?’
‘Only if you want it to be.’
‘I’m fine with my life, thanks.’
‘If you say so. And you’ve got to remember, it was your mother’s choice to look after your grandmother. She’s a staunch Catholic, isn’t she? In some cultures, putting someone in a home is seen as a terrible thing to do, but it’s not easy either way. And don’t get me started on the ridiculous cost of private care homes. It’s scandalous.’
Sofia wasn’t ready for a full-on political debate before lunch and with a pounding head.
‘I won’t. I know everyone’s asked me how I managed to get so much time off, but how didyouget three weeks off in a row as well?’
Maddie licked the icing sugar off her fingers.
‘Not that you gave us a straight answer to that one… As for me, my boss virtually pushed me out of the door. I hadn’t taken any holiday since’—Maddie looked out to sea—‘Tony died.’
‘What, over a year?’
‘Well, I took a few lieu days, but no paid holiday. It was easier to be at work, to cover other people’s shifts, rather than sit in on my own and stare at the walls of an evening.’
