In Community Care

COMMUNITY CARE

The grandchildren had just arrived. Elizabeth had
agreed to look after them every weekday while her
daughter, Denise worked part-time from 12 to 5 in the
local hospital.

Four- year old Emma was standing on a stool stirring some
macaroni on the gas hob. Elizabeth, her grandmother was
teaching her to cook.

Meanwhile Denise was standing near the sink trying to
pacify two-year old Jamie who was turning on the taps as
fast as Denise was turning them off. This was his way of
helping with the washing up. His grandmother never got
flustered. In her calm voice she said, "Jamie is too
young for cooking. When he is old enough, I'll teach
him."
The baby was asleep in the garden, lying there peacefully
in her pram near the pink lavatera shrub on the patio.
Connie was just six months old.

She picked up the baby, laid her on the kitchen table and
changed the nappy. At that moment a letter dropped on
the mat. Reading it before Denise left for work,
Elizabeth was dismayed to hear that cousin Rose wanted to
come for a holiday. She imparted the news to Denise just
as she was leaving for work.

"Imagine Cousin Rose staying here in the midst of the
family," snorted Elizabeth. "Just imagine how that would
interrupt our plans."
The patio just been completed, creating a clean and tidy
area for the children's play.
"I've had building workers here all the summer,"
continued Elizabeth. " There is nothing I am devoted to,
more than our family and I don't want any more
interferences." Denise smiled tolerantly and lingered a
moment. "Perhaps she'll help with the children."
Once Elizabeth was alone with the children, and they had
settled down, she let her mind wander. Since her husband
had died just on the verge of retirement, Elizabeth had
thrown herself into helping her daughter with the
children. It made her feel wanted, and she enjoyed
having them. Nevertheless, she was rather tied and began
to wonder whether she could stand the pace, once the
children began arriving every day. And on top of this,
the thought of having Cousin Rose to stay nearly made her
blow her top.

Rose was the black sheep of the family, but her late
husband's only relation apart from his own close family
of three daughters, all married with children of their
own. They had felt a little guilty about Rose but over
the years had tried to keep in touch. After having an
illegitimate baby so many years ago, she had been put
into an asylum in the country. But for the last five
years she had been living outside in community care in a
shared house, where, as she wrote in her letters, she had
learnt to cook.

Elizabeth 's face tightened as she thought how she would
hate to have Rose cooking in her kitchen, where she
imagined how she would ruin all the new equipment.
There was a microwave oven, a gas hob, an electric baking
oven, and the latest fridge-freezer, not to speak of "the
top of the range" washing machine.

They had visited Rose at the community home and had
congratulated the warden on looking after her so well.
Meanwhile Rose had sat in the chair thinking, "But I am
looking after myself now". It was true. Rose was moving
into her own cottage shortly. She was sixty-two, and at
last was looking forward to having a home of her own.

Elizabeth continued to feel a little guilty. Attitudes
had changed, and to-day it would have been unthinkable to
put someone like Rose into an asylum. However, over the
years she had become institutionalised and it had never
occurred to her cousins to invite her to stay even for a
week-end. How could they possibly make anything up to
Rose? But Elizabeth thought she should try.

So though tired, Elizabeth began to write the letter
inviting Rose to stay one week-end, in the suburban
family house. There were two empty bedrooms, so she had
plenty of room. Her daughters had houses within walking
distance, so never needed to stay. Though the house was
filled with the active play of young children during the
day, the evenings were often lonely.

Elizabeth answered the door, when Rose arrived on a
Friday evening. In Rose's hand was the tin of cakes, she
had made the previous evening in the community house
kitchen. She opened the tin and showed them off proudly.
They were currant buns, maybe a little uneven in size but
delicious to eat.

"Cakes! You didn't need to do that," said Elizabeth.
"Well, I'll put them in the cupboard, but we've got
plenty".

"I think it would be best if you go upstairs straight
away. Would you like a duvet or a blanket?"
Rose wanted to please and said that it did not matter.
"Well make up your mind," snapped Elizabeth.
"The duvet will be all right," said Rose.
It was not. The weather was quite warm, and she felt
stifled under the duvet that night, but did not dare to
complain.
"Perhaps you would like to cut up your own grapefruit,"
said Elizabeth, at breakfast next morning, handing her a
curved, serrated knife.

This was not the kind of knife Rose was used to, and she
fumbled, and mumbled that the knife was awkward.
"It is a present from our daughter, Denise," said
Elizabeth. "It is a special grapefruit knife."
In this house there was a special tool for every
conceivable occasion and Rose felt confused. Of course
Elizabeth felt at home with all the equipment and with
her little car. Without these she would not be able to
offer to help her daughter so often.

"Perhaps you would like to sit out in the garden, Rose,"
said Elizabeth briskly.
Rose thought she would like that and wandered down the
garden, admiring the flowers and vegetables.

Indoors, the telephone jangled. Elizabeth's face became
anxious as she walked outside. "Denise is coming over for
lunch and bringing the children. She wants you to see
the baby. Do you think you can cope?"
"I don't mind," said Rose. She was stroking the cat, who
had taken an instant liking to her.

"Perhaps if you stay out in the garden it will be
quieter".

"It's a lovely day," said Rose. "And I have a magazine
to read." She started to study an article on healthy
eating and added, "I'm trying to keep my weight down."
"Would you like some salad for lunch with grated cheese
and tuna fish?"
"Yes please," said Rose.
Rose came indoors for a cup of tea and at that moment
Denise bounded in with the three children. "Can you help
me to lift the gear out of the car, Mum?" she said.
Elizabeth said, "Rose, I know that you are not used to
children, but we'll put the baby out into the garden and
perhaps you can keep an eye on her. Her name is Connie."
"Oh, she is just like her great-grandmother," said Rose.
"It is the way her hair falls down over her forehead."
"What do you know about it? You've never seen your aunt
since you were a teenager," said Elizabeth sharply.
Rose bit her lip. Denise had written to tell her about
her new baby, saying how like she was to her great-
grandmother, Rose's aunt, who had just died at the grand
old age of 95. Denise had put six-month old Connie on the
table and was changing the nappy.

Meanwhile Jamie was wandering in and out and four-year
old Emma said, "I know how to cook. Can I cook something
now?"
"I could teach you how to cook," said Rose.
"No, we like a balanced diet in this house. You would not
know anything about that," said Elizabeth. Then she spied
Denise, who having changed the baby, and put her in the
pram in the sunshine in the garden, started feeding two-
year old Jamie with a fried egg.

"Do try not to give him egg," said her mother. "It
contains cholesterol."

"Well, what else can I feed him on?" asked Denise,
feeling slightly ruffled. "He has egg once a week only."
Rose started to say something, but no-one paid the
slightest attention to her. So she wandered out into the
garden again and sat near the baby's pram.
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Elizabeth said, "It is a
disaster. I can't have Rose here at the same time as the
children."

Denise answered, "Oh, Rose is all right," and started
preparing lunch for the three adults.
Outside in the sunshine, Rose found herself falling to
sleep in her chair. She woke up with a start and saw the
baby asleep. Rising to look at the passion flower,
growing by a sheltered wall, she wished that she could
grow such beautiful flowers in the community garden. She
walked down the end of the garden, past the greenhouses
and saw the rhubarb struggling to grow. The tomatoes
were green. At least the tomatoes in the community
garden were as good as those. She stood there for about
ten minutes dreaming and planning what she would grow in
her own cottage garden.

Thinking it was about lunchtime she walked back towards
the house. Then horror struck and she shook like an aspen
leaf. The tiled patio was empty. The baby in her pram had
disappeared. Echoes of the day long ago when her own
baby had been taken for adoption returned. She noticed
the garden gate leading to the street was open.
Dashing out quickly, she was in time to see a small boy
wheeling a pram at half way down the quiet street. Rose
hesitated.

She knew that if she interfered she might be blamed. She
was very used to taking the blame for things she had not
done. But if she went back indoors to call Elizabeth, it
might be too late to catch up with the boy. So Rose ran.
By the time she caught up with the boy her heart was
thumping, and she was out of breath.

She gasped, "Give me that pram."
"I'm just taking the baby for a walk," the boy said.
Rose had never seen this boy, and wondered if he lived
nearby. "You should have asked her mother, first," she
said softly.

"I'm her Cousin Rose", and she tried to take the pram.
The boy started shouting and held on to the pram. But the
raised voices caused a neighbour to look out of the
window. Seeing that he was observed by the neighbour, a
middle-aged man, the boy loosened his grip on the pram
and ran away. Rose took the pram and started walking home
with the baby.

As she got to the garden gate, Elizabeth came out to meet
her. She was frantic.
"What are you doing with our baby, Rose? You wanted to
take her away didn't you? You are not safe to be let out
of the institution."

Rose felt humiliated, but she knew that she had done the
right thing this time. Must she keep on paying for her
one mistake made forty years ago? She attempted to
explain how the baby in the pram had been taken away by a
small boy, who had crept in through the open garden door,
but Elizabeth was not listening.

Elizabeth took her grandchild indoors. Denise agreed that
Rose must be sent home immediately, and Elizabeth picked
up the phone. She was going to ask the warden of her
community house to keep a strict eye on Rose in future.

"This time I won't call the police," she told Rose, "but
I can't have you visiting here again."
Rose said nothing but cried inside herself. She realised
that no-one would listen to her story. When the warden
answered the phone, she was very surprised at Elizabeth's
complaint and agreed that Rose should not have taken the
pram.
"But she would not harm a baby," she said. "Rose was
very nervous when she first came here, and was always
talking about how she lost her own baby so long ago.
Well, Rose can come home tonight, and I will get the
doctor to see her. But I'm disappointed."
So Rose was told to go upstairs and pack her bags. She
had thought that she was doing so well. In the community
house she had made some good friends.

However, within half an hour, Rose's bags were packed,
and she stood forlornly in Elizabeth's hall, waiting for
to be driven to the station.

"I'm sorry about this, Rose," said Elizabeth, when she
came downstairs. "You don't understand family life. You
cant just take the baby out with asking anyone."
Rose knew it was no good saying any more.

When she got back to the community hose, to her dismay
the warden said that she had lost the chance to live in
her own cottage for a further year. Rose cried openly
and bitterly regretted having stayed with Elizabeth.
Two or three weeks drifted by. Annie and Jean her
friends believed her story. But they were fellow
patients. Nevertheless Rose persisted with cooking for
the other ingredients. One Saturday lunch-time, she had
three small bowls in front of her, and was slicing
lettuce leaves into one, tomato and green peppers into
another and radishes with cucumber into the third.
"Do you like tuna fish?" she called to her companions,
Annie and Jean.

"Yes, I like tuna fish and every kind of salad stuff
except beetroot," answered Annie.
"Well there's no beetroot, but I could do some grated
carrot," said Rose.
"Oh, I like that," said Jean. She had just returned from
taking the dog for a walk.
"Who will look after Rover, when you leave?" asked Rose.
"Well, he does not belong to this house. It is Mrs.
Andrews' dog," said Jean. Mrs. Andrews, the warden lived
in the little cottage next door.
"If no-one in this house likes the dog, he can always go
back home," said Jean. "But I will miss him when I get my
own cottage."
This remark made Rose think regretfully that she had lost
her own chance of new beginnings.

Just then, there was a loud knock at the door. Elizabeth
had come to see her.
When she Heard who the visitor was Rose said, "I don't
want to see that woman."
But Elizabeth had intruded already saying "I've come to
say that I am sorry."

Elizabeth was really sorry and again, did not quite know
what to do. She had misjudged Rose. The neighbour who
had seen the small boy with the pram and Rose abruptly
taking charge had reported the matter to the police. As
a result the full story had come out. The truth had
dawned on Elizabeth that Rose had actually saved her
grandchild.

When Mrs. Andrews told Rose she had a visitor and she
found out that it was Elizabeth, Rose said "I don't want
to see that woman."

Bur Elizabeth had entered.
"It was you and people like you who caused all the
trouble in my life," shouted Rose. "Ho was it that put
me into a home forty years ago? Now you won't believe
anything I say. It is no use talking to you Just go away"
"But, said Elizabeth. "I want to say I"m sorry. You
saved our grand-child. You can go into your new cottage.
The authorities say it is all right, now."
"I suppose you've done your best. But why didn't you do
anything for me before now. Why did I have to waste my
life"

Rose had not been so angry for along time.
"Elizabeth said she was sorry but thought it was no use
talking to Rose.
When she got home and talked things over with Denise, she
said "Perhaps I have not understood. But everyone else
thought the same about people like Rose forty years ago.
I don't think we could have done anything different. But
I wish we had. I wish we had stood out from the crowd and
did something different."

Denise said "Well lots of friends have had babies before
marriage. It has never worked out too well. But it would
only make things worse to take their babies away. I
know; I'm a mother . I would not let anyone do it to me.
Not even you, Mum."
"I suppose Rose will not come to stay here again," said
Elizabeth.
................
Six months later, when the flowers of Spring were
beginning to show in the garden, she heard that Rose had
settled in her new cottage. After thinking about it for
a day, she picked up the phone.
"Rose will you come and stay"
"Well I do get a little bit lonely sometimes, answered
Rose. "Yes I'd like to come to stay.
"You mean you accept my apology"
"Life's too short," said Rose to keep thinking about the
past. Yes, I'd like to come"
Suddenly Elizabeth felt brighter.

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