A Keeper(40)

Gordon emerged with two steaming mugs and chose the seat next to Elizabeth. ‘A relative, is he?’

‘Well, he’s actually my father.’ It felt odd and almost a little forbidden to be saying such words out loud, especially to a stranger. She felt her mother’s disapproval.

Gordon raised his pale eyebrows. ‘Really?’ It was a question that asked so much. Why has no one mentioned his daughter? Where have you been? What are you doing here now?

Elizabeth decided it was easiest to just say, ‘Yes.’

Gordon understood that it was best not to pry any further so picked up his coffee. ‘Oh, do you take sugar? Sorry.’

‘No. This is great, thanks.’

They both took a sip.

Outside two pigeons kept sentry, marching up and down the concrete path beyond the patio doors.

‘Have you worked here long, Gordon?’

‘No. Just a few months. I was nursing up in Dublin but … well, a bad break-up, and like the classic Irish boy I am, I came running home to Mammy.’

Elizabeth looked at Gordon. His head was bowed, his clear grey eyes studying the floor. She noticed how gaunt his cheeks were, the way his long jaw curved sharply up to his ears. She wondered who had broken his tender young heart.

‘Sorry to hear that. And do you enjoy it here?’

‘Ah, it’s not so bad. The residents are mostly lovely, and the job is easy enough – well, apart from all the dying.’ He shrugged and wrapped his hands around the warm mug. ‘To be honest, come the spring, I’ll probably head back to Dublin or maybe over to London. You know, lots of work, and God knows I’m hardly going to find a new boyfriend in Clonteer.’ Something in Elizabeth’s expression must have betrayed her surprise because Gordon immediately continued. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shock you. I just assumed …’

‘No, no,’ Elizabeth interrupted him, ‘my husband is gay.’

Silence. Why on earth had she said that? It must have been the talk in the car with Brian. The words floated in the air between them.

‘Was,’ she said, trying to clarify things, but Gordon looked even more surprised. ‘Was my husband. Is gay. Sorry, I have no idea why I said that.’

‘No, thanks for telling me. Always good to know there are more out there!’ Gordon laughed. ‘It’s easy to forget living here.’

‘I can imagine,’ Elizabeth agreed with a grin.

The door from the hall was thrown open and a short woman with scraped-back hair and thick legs strode into the day room. She stopped short when she saw Elizabeth and Gordon.

‘Oh. I wasn’t aware anyone was using the day room at present. Gordon, isn’t your shift over?’

Gordon stood up. ‘It is. Elizabeth, this is our Care Director. It is Care Director, isn’t it?’

A stern glare was aimed in his direction. ‘Yes, Gordon, it is Care Director. Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth. I’m Sarah Cahill, Care Director here at Abbey Court.’ The two women shook hands. ‘Has Gordon been assisting you?’

‘Oh yes, thank you. Very helpful.’ Elizabeth had an uneasy feeling that she was going to get Gordon into some sort of trouble. ‘I was hoping to see a relative of mine.’

‘I explained about the visiting hours,’ Gordon interjected hastily.

‘Yes. Yes he did,’ Elizabeth confirmed. ‘It’s just that I’m only passing through and I’m not sure when I can get back.’

Sarah smiled warmly. ‘Not a problem. Not a problem at all. Gordon should have just come to find me.’

Gordon stared at her. His expression suggested that the last time he allowed a visitor in out of hours she had threatened to sack him.

‘What resident is it?’

‘Edward Foley.’

‘It’s old Teddy,’ Gordon said to clarify.

Another stern look. ‘Thank you, Gordon. Mr Foley is in room three. I wonder if you could show Elizabeth to his room please, Gordon?’

More smiles and handshakes and then Sarah was gone, clicking across the polished linoleum floor.

‘Two-faced cow,’ Gordon muttered under his breath.

‘I hope I didn’t get you into trouble.’

‘No problem. She has it in for me, that one. Come on, I’ll show you to Teddy.’

The room reminded her of when her mother had been ill. The sour smell of badly washed bodies mixed with the lingering stench of human waste. The room itself was narrow and long with a large window at the opposite end. A single bed was pushed against the side wall and in it lay an old man. Elizabeth stepped towards him. His rheumy eyes were open but unfocused. Wisps of grey hair sprouted from his head, while patches of stubble dotted his parchment-yellow face where he had been haphazardly shaved by a busy nurse. He looked unkempt and uncared for. His green and white pyjamas were buttoned right up to his throat. The only sound was the slow rasp of his breathing, his dry lips hung apart.

‘Now, Teddy,’ Gordon almost shouted at the old man. Elizabeth started. ‘There’s a visitor here for you. Isn’t that great?’

The old man did not seem interested in the news. His gaze didn’t shift, his breathing didn’t alter.

‘Say hello to him. Squeeze his hand. He likes that.’

Elizabeth felt uncertain. It seemed too forward, too intrusive somehow.