Taking Care 5 (ii)

      I wasn't sure how to get to Sainsbury's, but Terry seemed to know the way - telling me 'next left' or 'next right' in that robotic monotone of his. 

       "Our home is down that road," said Danielle, as we crossed one junction.

       "Home!" Ganesh enthused, looking too. "Lunch."

       "Soon, Ganesh," I said.

       "Soon!" he said, then turned back.

       "Looks like a nice road, Danielle."

       "It's alright," she said - though without enthusiasm.

       It got me thinking, as it often did, about how it must be for those - like Danielle - who had a better understanding of their situation.  Those who were able to do things for themselves, and whose support needs were less intrusive on their independence. Yet still they were in 'care', and therefore had little choice about many things: where they lived, who they lived with, what they were able to do on their own, how they could spend what little money they got.  Danielle had told me  that she loved gigs, and had been to some when she was younger and living with her late mum.  But now, she could only go to them if staff were available to take her.  Same with her holidays.  She generally had to go away with others from the home, and only to the destinations that were selected.  She seemed happy enough, though.  Sometimes you just picked up little hints.  Like that flatness of her tone.

       "It's alright."

 

       We got to Sainsbury's and went in - Terry leading me straight to the milk and dairy section. Then everyone took a 4-pinter and we took them to the checkouts.  I noticed, as always, the odd looks that came our way.  Sometimes smiles, though.  The children could be the worst, with their gawps or grins. But none of my folks seemed to notice, or care much if they did.

       "Get beer," Ganesh said, as we passed the alcohol aisle.

       "No, mate.  Sorry.  Some other time.  Just milk today."

       "Milk. Cu' tea."

       "Soon."

 

       We got back at a little before twelve and marched in as the others were clearing away for lunch. Greg looked up quickly at me, but then was straight back to his cards.  I'd yet to find a way to connect with him properly and guessed that was how he'd be.  As long as he was content.

       "Come on then, Fay," Danielle said.  "Fay said she'd give us a tune."

       Fay's face lit up as she sat at the piano and swung back the lid.  She eyed the keys briefly.  Then she launched in with gusto - like she was plunging her hands into a fish tank to catch a quick-moving minnow.

       I recognised the piece, but wasn't sure what it was.  She played it very fast and mechanically, banging the keys. She mis-hit several notes and repeated a few phrases.  But she got through it, then shut the lid and stood up, bowing enthusiastically to everyone's applause.

       "Well done, Fay," said Laura.

       "Thank you, thank you," she said, still bowing.

       Maggie was a bit less enthused.

       "Same old piece," she said to me quietly, rolling her eyes.

       I ignored it. It was a complicated piece of music, and she'd taken some time to learn it - quite apart from the technique she needed.  She'd obviously had lessons at some stage, many years ago.  Before her problems started, maybe.

       "What's it called, Fay?" I asked. 

       "Chopin," she said, wide-eyed.

       And that was it.  She marched off towards the door with the others as they went to get their coats and bags. Half a minute later, they were all gone.  Laura went last.

       "Just buzz over if you get any problems and need help," she said.  "You should be alright with this lot, though."

       Then she closed the door behind her - and it was just me and my folks for the next hour or so.

 

       Without any prompting from me, they got themselves ready for lunch.  Greg put his cards together, squared them, and put them on the corner of his desk ready for the afternoon.  Shirley and Lizzie sat together. Ian sat next to them, looking at the table top and rocking contentedly.  Jamie sat opposite, watching me through the kitchen hatch.  Steven was the last to join them, wandering down from the upper lounge, chatting to himself in his usual way.

       I'd noticed before how different they seemed when all the others had gone.  Much quieter and less excitable.  There was usually music playing in the background during the sessions, too, and it was nice to turn that off for a while.  None of them seem to mind.

       I got their lunches ready from the cool bag.  Sandwiches for all, plus yoghurts, crisps and a selection of fruit.  Their usual drinks, too.  I took out the plates and they tucked straight in.

       I had my lunch in the kitchen, keeping an eye on them through the hatch.   Everyone was eating peacefully and happily. Lizzie did her usual with her sandwiches - eating the top slice of bread first, then the contents, then the bottom slice. Staff had tried to change those habits over the years, but they'd never worked. She always got up and washed her hands afterwards, anyway.  I assumed there was a good reason for it.  Maybe she didn't like too many different flavours in her mouth at once, or too many textures.  Having few teeth, too, might have been something to do with it.  Whatever - she was content.

 

       When they'd all finished, Shirley collected the plates and mugs and brought them to the hatch.  I had her cigarette and lighter ready.

       "Tha-Thank you," she said, heading up to the back door.  I heard the cough at the moment she lit up. It finally settled after a few puffs.

       Steven, Ian and Lizzie went up to the lounge, where they sat and relaxed.  Jamie and Greg were the only ones who stayed in the main room.  Greg went straight back to his desk and his cards, whilst Jamie sat at the table watching me, watching everything I was doing, occasionally 'maahing' at me.  I'd discovered he was an avid people-watcher.  He was also easy to make laugh, and would have hysterics at silly antics and fooling around - like if I pretended to trip over something, or if I stood on an empty plastic bottle and it popped.

       I quickly did the washing up and put the things away, then I went out and sat at the piano for the first time.  I hadn't wanted to before, with other people there.  But I was confident with these people.  I played through a couple of short pieces I knew.  Jamie made approving sounds of amusement.  Even Greg turned his head a couple of times.  When I finished, I brought both hands down hard on the keys in a crashing chord, and Jamie ripped it up.  He laughed so hard I thought he'd fall out of his chair, and got up to help him.  He was fine, though.

       Then I grabbed three tennis balls and began juggling with them.  Jamie enjoyed that - especially when I messed it up and dropped them all.  Again, he hooted with laughter.  Then I took one of the balls and bounced it hard on the floor. It bounced so high it hit the ceiling.  Jamie laughed again.  But it was Greg who caught my eye.  He suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked at me. I threw the ball down again, and again it bounced up and hit the ceiling.  This time Greg chuckled and tipped his head, still watching.  I did it a third time - and that was all it took.  Greg left his cards, got up and came over to me, holding out his hand.

       "Me have go," he said, grinning.

       It was the first time he'd ever directly spoken to me since I'd known him.  I gave him the ball.  He threw it at the floor and it bounced up to the ceiling.  He chuckled again.  I took him over to a clear space and gave it to him there.  And off he went with it, bouncing it floor to ceiling, his laughter getting louder and more continuous with each go.  Finally, he bounced it and I caught it.

       "Can I have a go again now?" I said.

       He nodded his head.

       So I bounced it again a few times as he stood and watched.  Then I gave it back to him again.  After three more goes, he caught it for the final time and handed it to me.

       "'nuff now," he said, and went and sat down with his cards again.

       "Well done, Greg," I said.  "We'll have another go tomorrow, shall we?"

       He nodded his head again.  But this time there was a smile on his face.

       Something had shifted in those few minutes, I thought.  I'd established some form of communication with him.  And I'd found out that he would do other things, if they looked fun and diverting enough.  Maybe I could try something else with him - even if it was for just a short while.

       I felt that it was something to start with, anyway.  When the others came back, I mentioned it to Laura.  She said they'd often tried to get him to do other things, but generally failed. So it was perhaps a positive sign.

       "Keep trying with him.  Maybe we'll try a few ball games sometime, now that the summer's coming and we can get out."

       Yes, I thought.  Progress.  A bit at a time.  A bit every day.

 

(continued)  https://www.abctales.com/story/harryc/taking-care-6-i