Chapter 5

A month later Bridget was given the all clear to come home. Moira found it hard to discern any difference. The consultant agreed.

"Yes," he said, "but I'm afraid that this is a disease that we cannot cure. We can stabilise it and that we have done. For how long I wouldn't even offer a guess. Have you thought about a carer? It's twenty-four seven."

"Yes but it wouldn't work. I don't want to go into it at the moment but any carer would be treated as mud by my father and not last a week."

The consultant registered but said nothing.

"It'll have to be me," said Moira.

"When I said twenty-four seven I meant it," he said. "You can't leave her alone in case she does something dangerous like deciding to go for a walk on her own or falling downstairs. It's going to be a hell of a responsibility, Miss Macintyre."

"Could you section her?"

"No. At present there's no threat of violence to herself or anyone else."

"Could you force her to be taken into care?"

"Again no. That's up to Social Services. I'd certainly recommend it because unless you've got a trusted friend to sit in with her you won't even be able to go shopping unless you lock her in her room and make sure that she has nothing to cause herself, anyone else or the house harm."

Moira looked at him in silence for a full two minutes and he held her gaze.

"Can you keep her in for another fortnight?" she asked, "so that I can try and make some arrangements?"

He nodded. "I'll do my best but if a more urgent patient requires her room..."

Moira forced a smile. "Thank you," she said quietly.

Moira rang a number of her mother's friends to see whether any of them were prepared to spend time with her mother so that she could go shopping and suchlike. There were plenty of 'I wish I could help, dear, but... '

"Fair weather friends," Moira thought but then added, more charitably, that they would find it too saddening and indeed embarrassing particularly if they had to help her go to the lavatory or she soiled herself.

She rang round the care agencies to find out how much they would charge for a carer to come round twice a week for an hour each time. She foresaw problems persuading her father to stump up for that. She also needed to persuade him to pay her her mother's housekeeping allowance and to increase it to take into account her expenses.

She visited Social Services and spent some time with a Mr Anstruther who seemed helpful. He explained that it would take time to gather the requisite information and to go through the process of placing her mother in care against her husband's wishes.

"I can cope for a few weeks," Moira replied.

"I'm afraid it may be a question of a month or two, Miss Macintyre, but I'll do my best to hasten things along."

She shrugged resignedly. "Thank you, Mr Anstruther, I'm sure you will be aware that there is a limit to how long I shall physically be able to cope virtually on my own."

"I do indeed, Miss Macintyre, and will do my utmost to expedite matters."

"Thank you, Mr Anstruther. I can't ask you to do more."

She bearded her father that night over supper.

"Father, I need money for housekeeping. I've just about exhausted Mum's cash reserve. Can you transfer the housekeeping you pay her to my account?"

"Very well!"

"The other thing is that with me living here I think you will need to increase it."

"Hmm. See you how you go for a fortnight after she gets home and I'll think about it then."

"Very well, Father."

"So far so good," she thought. "Now for the tricky bit."

"Father, the doctor at the psychiatric wing said that she will need care twenty-four hours a day or be locked in a room where she cannot do herself or anything else harm. I am going to have to go out a couple of times a week for an hour at a time to do the shopping and collect her prescriptions and so on."

"Go on."

"Well I rang round some half dozen of her friends to see if they would help me out but none of them was willing."

"Hmph! Some friends!"

"That was rather what I thought but I think it was embarrassment more than anything like taking her to the lavatory and cleaning her up afterwards."

"I can understand that."

"So I've contacted a care agency, several in fact, to see what it would cost."

"And?"

"Fifteen pounds a visit."

"What?"

"That was my first reaction," she lied, "but they explained that that included the carer's wage, a contribution towards petrol and overheads."

"Profit!"

"In a nutshell," she managed to smile.

"How many carers do they have?"

"I've no idea."

"Quite a number, I'll be bound, and therefore quite a profit."

"You can hardly blame them."

"Have you tried the voluntary organisations?"

"Yes. They seem to do it on a means test and I'm afraid, Father, that you earn too much to qualify for reduced fees and it works out the same."

"Could you not manage on one visit a week?"

"Not really. Fresh vegetables and fruit for starters."

"'Fridge."

"Father you'd be the first to complain if your vegetables weren't fresh. The other thing is that Mum might need something quite urgently which wouldn't wait a week."

"Very well," he agreed grudgingly.

"Thank you, Father. They'll send you a monthly bill."

"Very well."

Moira decided enough was enough for one evening. Sleeping arrangements could wait for a day or two.

She rang David after her father had gone to bed.

"Hello, Dai darling."

"Hello, my Moira. How are things?"

"Better than I expected." She told him about the conversation with her father. "I couldn't have expected better."

"I'm glad and relieved. You thought it was going to be much stickier."

"Yes but I decided to leave sleeping arrangements for a day or two."

"What had you in mind?"

"Moving their bed into the spare room and the spare room bed and mine into the master bedroom."

"Sounds sensible."

"I doubt it will to him. It'll disturb his routine."

"Oh, come on!"