Judith Wants To Be Your Friend (11 page)

‘There is evidence,’ said Judith, ‘nearly every time we go to visit.’

‘Maybe your mother simply needs help to make her decisions on days like today when she is clearly very aware of what’s going on?’

‘Maybe she needs help to decide to hand the management of her assets to us. Now. While she is able to do so.’

‘Maybe so, maybe so. How do you feel about that, Mrs. Dillon?’

‘Feel about what?’

‘Handing over the management of your assets to your daughters.’

‘I don’t know what you mean, Mr…’

Judith looked across at Fiona who looked horrified at the sudden change in their mother. Judith thought it was the best thing that could have happened.

Their mother looked at Rosie and said, ‘Fiona, dear, are you going to take me home?’

‘I’m Rosie, Granny, and we really have to try to sort out your things while we’re here.’

‘Where are we?’

John Greig had caught on to what was happening at ‘Feel about what?’ and was quick to change his point of view. He suggested that they should complete the forms for Lasting Power of Attorney in respect of property and affairs, and in respect of personal welfare. He said he was qualified to provide a certificate of capacity but would prefer it to be a doctor then he could act completely independently. He said that ideally their mother should have drawn this arrangement up when she was still capable of making the decision for herself. He saw that Judith was about to challenge the practicality of this and pre-empted her comments by saying that it was not always possible to anticipate. He provided them with the forms and they left. Judith took the forms and Fiona and Rosie took Mrs. Dillon back to Mill View in time for the evening meal.

Carlisle, December 2009

Wednesday 2
nd
December 2009

My God, it’s cold in Carlisle in winter. I have decided to start the bridge-building process with my family and to make Christmas a way of doing it. In one way, I’m not bothered. I haven’t really missed them as people but they are family and they’re all I’ve got. I don’t want to spend Christmas with them but it’s weird not having them around. A visit to Marks and Spencer should do for present-buying then I’ll go round to Cafe Bar Sierra for lunch. Joanna should be there on a Wednesday and I’ll catch up with her properly in the park tomorrow.

She’s too busy to talk when I get there. The whole town is busy but I take my time eating the home made lasagne and reading my book, and we manage to exchange a few words in Spanish. Ken’s working late this evening, thank goodness, so I can break our regular Wednesday night outing.

Thursday 3
rd
December 2009

I meet Joanna and Ricky in the park as usual, by the duck pond. She says she is getting busier at work and finding it difficult to get time off. While Ricky is feeding the ducks she says that she simply doesn’t know when she’s going to get the chance to go shopping for Ricky’s presents.

‘Judith, I’m going to see Santa in a minute.’ Ricky is bursting with excitement about Christmas. ‘I’m going to tell him what I want.’

‘We’re going for lunch first,’ Joanna says firmly.

He can barely contain himself over lunch but she makes him sit and eat his pizza properly or else ‘No Santa’. My God, that boy can fidget and she has the patience of a saint. I realise that I will have to buy a present for Ricky as well, so walk up to Santa’s Grotto with them after lunch before going back to the shops. While Ricky is talking to Santa she turns to me so he can’t hear what she’s saying.

‘I don’t know when I’m going to get time to buy this stuff that he wants,’ she says again, ‘I’m having to work more and more hours and so is Mum. I wish Santa really would deliver.’

‘I could babysit one morning or afternoon if you want, so you can shop for a couple of hours in peace.’

‘Judith, would you really do that?’

‘Of course, he was no bother at all when you were ill in bed.’

‘He’s quite a handful when we’re out, but at home he can watch a DVD or read books. Only if you don’t mind, though.’

‘I don’t mind at all. Is a week today leaving it too late?’

‘No, the later the better, really. Less time for him to snoop around and find things. Actually I can leave them at my mam’s. That would be safer.’

‘OK a week today. I’m going to Hexham next Wednesday to visit my family. I haven’t seen them for a while.’

‘That sounds good. Anyway, Ricky’s coming back. We can sort out the details at Spanish on Monday night. And thanks, Judith.’

Saturday 5
th
December

The first Saturday in December. Maureen has been gearing us up for this day; the real start of the Christmas rush in the store. She says we will be amazed at how much more cash there will be to count, and how it will continue to get busier now up to the day before Christmas Eve. She has planned the rotas meticulously and I have offered to work the days either side of Christmas so that the others can have an extra day with their families. We’ll be closed on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. Notice I say ‘we’ now. I truly belong here (sigh). I would like to say it won’t be forever, but I simply cannot see any other option at the moment. We are all working more hours than normal but we still need extra help, which we will get in the form of Kirsty from checkouts. She is a relief cashier, trained up ready for occasions such as this but I get the impression that Maureen would rather do without her. She is in for two half-days this weekend to get her up to speed. She’s chattier than Maureen likes, and doesn’t necessarily talk about things that please Maureen either.

‘Judith,’ she greets me like an old friend, ‘we meet properly at last. I’ve seen you out with Ken. Did you enjoy
Lesbian Vampire Killers
?’

My natural reaction to such intrusion would be to say no and carry on counting cash but the opportunity to further Strand 1 and Strand 2 of ‘Annoy-Maureen’ at the same time is too much even for me.

‘Actually, I didn’t enjoy it much. We went for a lovely drink afterwards though. That made the evening worthwhile.’

‘Yes, I saw you go into Cafe Bar Sierra.’

‘Yes, the manager and I are friends. I go there a lot. Anyway, must get on, there’s money to be counted.’

I get that in then because I can see Maureen reaching the point where she would feel the need to tell us off. Better that I take the initiative. She goes back to counting and balancing till receipts. I keep an eye on Kirsty. She’s quick but careless, seeming to be happy to do something twice rather than get it right first time. How annoying, but it may be useful for me in Strand 3 in terms of setting Maureen up as being less than perfect after all.

Maureen clearly doesn’t like the idea of my getting too friendly with Kirsty so she sends us on different tea breaks and lunch breaks. That suits me fine. The last thing I want is the nosey little thing becoming my friend. It makes Maureen feel more in control. That’s fine. I can wait.

I go on my break with Anita and tell her about my plans to go back to Hexham next week. She does the big-eyed sympathy look and asks whether I will be OK to go back. For one dreadful moment I think she has found out about the incident at the beginning of the year. I am about to defend myself when I realise she is referring to the dead husband. God, it’s hard remembering all this.

‘Yes, I’ll be OK,’ I say. ‘I have an elderly mother in a nursing home. I really need to go and visit to gauge how she is likely to be at Christmas. The last time I spoke to my sister and the manager there, she wasn’t recognising anyone.’

‘Oh Judith, you have had a difficult time. Are you and your sister close?’

‘We’re OK you know. Just grown apart a little over the years. I have a niece that I’m very fond of so that keeps us closer than we might naturally be.’

I really must stop this. I need to drip-feed this information otherwise I won’t have anything left to confide to Anita and I’ll have to make more things up. I do my usual response to Anita’s sympathy and go a bit quiet. She knows how to play this now and changes the subject. Bless her.

Sunday 6
th
December 2009

Well, Maureen was right and there is more money to count than usual. The checkouts seem to need change more often and we need to fit in an extra note-lift as the tills become full more quickly. All this is good. It disrupts the routine of the cash office and, along with the careless Kirsty, gives more opportunities for me to set Maureen up. As Maureen is showing Kirsty how to prepare the trolley for the note-lift (this actually involves the intellectually demanding job of making sure the numbered till drawers are in numerical order) I slip a ten pound note out of one of the bundles that Maureen has counted. No-one saw me do it as Anita was answering the buzzer from one of the checkout supervisors at the same time. I’m quick anyway; I’ve practiced it so many times that I bet I could do it in front of Maureen’s eyes. No need for that; I have plenty of opportunities. I just need to be ready to take advantage of the situations as they occur. I’ve been giving some thought as to what to do with the money this time and decide it’s time to execute the next stage of my cunning plan. For a fleeting second, probably because I’ve been thinking about her, my mother’s voice says,
What are you doing this for, Judith? You’ve made your point. Leave it now
.

I will
, I answer silently,
just this one last time; just because I can
.

‘Maureen, I’ve got a torn note. I need the Sellotape. I’m getting it from your drawer, OK?’

She looks at me suspiciously, probably remembering the last time I asked for Sellotape. She looks at the trays of notes that she has already counted and double checked that are on her desk.

‘OK. I’ll move my cash out of your way so you can sit there and mend it.’ She moves the money well out my reach and where she can see it as she tests Kirsty on the job that is to be hers whenever she is in the cash office.

As usual, I take great care in the repair job. You could barely see where I had torn it a few minutes ago. While Maureen and Kirsty have their heads in the trolley and Anita is concentrating on what she is doing, I fold the note I had taken from Maureen’s tray earlier, tear off another piece of Sellotape, and stick the ten pound note from Maureen’s bundle on the underside of her desk but inside the drawer where the Sellotape lives. It would fall down eventually, of course, but that’s OK. I hope I’m not at work that day, although I would love to be the proverbial fly on the wall.

When Ken comes in to check-weigh the notes before sealing them in bags for banking, the now familiar scenario is played out. Click, sign, click, sign, click, sign, click, silence, click, click. This time it ends with a sigh and a sideways glance at me. Maureen picks up on it straight away.

‘What is it Ken?’

‘One of the bundles is weighing light.’

‘It’ll be one of Kirsty’s I expect. She’s quite careless. Give it here and I’ll check it.’

‘It’s not Kirsty’s. It’s yours again.’ Ken looks a bit guilty when he says ‘again’ and actually it isn’t necessary. She already knows it’s again.

‘It can’t be. I double checked every one.’

Ken has already taken off the paper band and is counting each note. Then he counts them again. Then he hands them to Maureen who counts them. She looks at me.

‘I’ll start counting the store float while Ken weighs the rest,’ I say, for all the world the helpful employee.

‘Thanks, Judith,’ says Ken.

‘Don’t weigh the bundles, Ken,’ Maureen says, ‘every one of them will need to be counted by hand. Judith, where’s the bundle with the torn note in?’

Ooh, the implication that it’s my mistake! I like it. ‘It’s not in a bundle. It’s in the safe. I didn’t have enough notes to make up another
£
500.’

Afternoon tea breaks are cancelled while we all count frantically. It’s actually a good system that can pick up one banknote missing amongst hundreds of thousands of pounds. After two hours Ken regretfully, his word, tells us that he is going to have to inform Security and we will all have to be searched. He also informs Mary Morris and I realise that she has left him alone all afternoon. That makes a change. Maybe she’s too busy with all the extra business.

Kirsty has already left the cash office as she was only working the morning so she escaped the searching. Maureen starts to question the wisdom of having her in the cash office to help us. She’s doing the afternoon shift on the checkouts so she is questioned. She says she doesn’t want to work in the cash office for the next four weeks if this is what happens.

A good day’s work
, I think.

Wednesday 9
th
December 2009

It’s ten months since I’ve driven a car so I order an automatic for the day. I go to pick it up and decide I will keep it for two days so I don’t need to catch the bus to Joanna’s tomorrow. Public transport really is tiresome. I get a silver Ka. I hate Fords and hate silver cars but on my budget I can’t afford anything else at the moment, or to be fussy. As I turn onto the A69 and head for Hexham I remember the joy of the open road, even though it takes about ten minutes to get up to sixty miles an hour. Mill View is this side of Hexham so I don’t need to go into the town. I don’t think I could stand that yet. It was bad enough going through the station on the train. On reflection I should have caught the bus, but on even further reflection, I remember that the bus stops at the station so that wouldn’t have helped.

I pull into Mill View and park where I used to park my beautiful BMW Z4 on my visits here.
Oh well. Here goes
. I ring the bell and wait for the interminable security procedure to start. Tina Walters comes to the door. She has obviously seen me on the CCTV screen as she doesn’t look surprised.

‘Judith,’ she says.

‘Tina,’ I reply.

She sighs as though deciding what to say next. Breeding will out, however. ‘So, how are you?’

‘Fine thanks. A bit cold standing out here.’

‘Yes, of course. Um, come through to my office.’ She looks over her shoulder as she says this and sees an empty reception area. ‘Yes, come through now.’

‘I’ve come to see my mother,’ I say rather unnecessarily. ‘How is she?’

‘She’s stable. She’s made a friend, actually, and they spend most of their time together in the day room.’

‘Anyone I know?’

‘I don’t think so. He hasn’t lived up here very long. He was diagnosed with dementia shortly after moving.’

‘He?’ I wasn’t expecting that.

‘Yes, Mr. Leith. He’s a lovely old gentleman.’

‘Well, can I drag her away for a chat?’

‘It may not be a good idea. It can be disruptive.’

‘I’ve brought my mother a Christmas present and I would like to give it to her.’

‘I could give it to her for you.’

‘I would prefer to give it to her myself, Tina, if you don’t mind.’ She knows she can’t stop me but, my God, she’s trying to.

‘Are you in Hexham for long?’

‘No, I’ve only come to see my mother and to give her a Christmas present. Then I’m going back to…’

‘Where do you live now?’

‘I’d rather not say.’

‘You are one of three next-of-kin listed on your mother’s notes. I haven’t even got a mobile number for you.’ She looks at me expectantly.

‘No. Please take me off the next-of-kin list. My sister can deal with any emergencies.’

‘Yes, she can,’ said Tina. I know what she means but I’m not playing.