Chapter 6

Moira had tackled her father about bedrooms on Friday evening. As expected it took a lot of persuasion to get him to move but he saw sense in the end and even helped her on Saturday morning. She was a little worried about the effect of physical exertion on him but he survived and was rather pleased with himself. Moira made congratulatory noises which actually made him smile.

With some reluctance Moira rang her mother's specialist on Monday and told him the situation.

The specialist reiterated the need for constant supervision and how wearing it would be on her, even the couple of months Mr Anstruther had warned of.

"At the moment," he went on, "there's not a queue for your mother's room so I'll keep her in for now although when the time comes I may need you to react promptly."

"Of course and thank you very much, Dr Rankin."

"In the meanwhile I suggest you ask Mr Anstruther to send one of his social workers to see me and your mother rather than wait until she gets home."

"That's a very good idea, Dr Rankin, thank you once again. I'll get on to it right away."

She did and Mr Anstruther undertook to arrange a visit immediately.

Two days later Dr Rankin rang to say that he had heard nothing from Social Services regarding making an appointment. Moira rang Mr Anstruther again and was very firm with him. The following day, Thursday, Dr Rankin rang her to tell her that an appointment had been made at his office for one thirty the following day. He suggested that she might like to join them. Moira accepted without hesitation.

The social worker was a pleasant, motherly-looking woman in her late forties called Jean Carnoustie. Dr Rankin explained in detail the symptoms of Bridget's illness and the amount of care she needed. He took her to meet Bridget suggesting that Moira stayed in his office as she might be a distraction.

Twenty minutes later a visibly shaken Mrs Carnoustie returned. "You can't begin to look after her on your own, Miss Macintyre," she said. "You need to have a living-in carer to help you."

"That won't work, Mrs Carnoustie," Moira replied. "My father has made it quite clear that I will be the one to look after her, it being a daughter's responsibility. Even if he sees me crumbling it is unlikely to make him change his mind. He will baulk at the expense. And then he does give in on that, his curmudgeonly attitude to whoever it is will result in their leaving after a few days let alone weeks."

Mrs Carnoustie looked shocked. Moira smiled lopsidedly.

"I know," she said. "You'd never expect a daughter to talk about her father like that but I'm afraid it's true."

Mrs Carnoustie shook her head. "We need to give it a try," she said, "otherwise if and when we take the case to court it will be thrown out."

Moira shrugged. "OK," she said. "You're the one with the experience and knowledge. May I suggest a meeting with my father? It'll have to be an evening one or on a Saturday as he works all day and Sunday is church and connected matters."

"Surely he could take an hour off work for something as important as this."

Moira shook her head. "I can try and persuade him," she said, "but I doubt I shall be successful. It won't serve his selfish interests."

Mrs Carnoustie again looked shocked.

Dr Rankin intervened. "I can see what Miss Macintyre means," he said. "In the six weeks that her father has himself been out of hospital he has visited his wife once for ten minutes."

"My goodness!"

"My brother and I had to gang up on him to persuade him to do even that," added Moira.

"My goodness!"

There was silence and then Mrs Carnoustie asked, "Do you think if I rang him and asked for an appointment it might work?"

Moira shrugged again. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"The thing is that if he gives me the brush off and I consider that the case is sufficiently acute we can just go ahead on a court hearing. I'd have to get Mr Anstruther's agreement of course but I don't think that would be a problem."

Moira smiled genuinely for the first time. "Thank you, Mrs Carnoustie. That sounds brilliant. He normally gets home at about six and we eat at half past." She gave her the telephone number.

"Thank you, my dear," said Mrs Carnoustie. "I'll ring this evening having had a word with Mr Anstruther when I get back to the office now."

Moira thanked her again and when she had left thanked Dr Rankin for all his help.

"Let's hope it works," he smiled.

Mrs Carnoustie was as good as her word and rang that evening. Inevitably, Moira had to answer the phone. She took it to her father.

"A Mrs Carnoustie from Social Services for you," she said.

"What on earth can she want?" He took the phone. "Macintyre!" he barked.

There was a long pause. "That'll not be necessary thank you, Mrs Carnoustie."

There was another long pause. "I appreciate your concern but my daughter is quite capable of providing the care she requires."

A shorter pause followed. "I told you. It will not be necessary."

A minute pause followed by a roar. "Goodbye, Mrs Carnoustie!"

"Wretched interfering doctors and social services," he growled handing the handset to Moira.

"Can't even be bothered to put it back in the charger," she thought as she did so herself. "Bless Mrs Carnoustie for not mentioning my involvement."