Taking Care 4 (ii) - Day Centre

      We came off the main route near Sittingbourne, then went along a series of narrow side roads, through a small village by a railway line, and finally along a lane with fields on either side.  After the speed and traffic of the A2 it was like suddenly being out in the deepest countryside.

       "It's a nice setting," said Thandie.  "Quite isolated and peaceful."

       After about a mile, she pointed to a large detached house ahead and to the left. 

       "There we are," she said.  "Eel Brook Farm.  That's us."

      It was three storeys high and looked like an Elizabethan manor house with its black beams, white walls and tall chimneys towering over the roof. I hadn't expected it to be so huge.

      We pulled off into a large gravel car park at the front of the building.  There were several cars there already, including two identical Previas to ours.

       "Looks like the others are here already," Thandie said.  She pulled up facing the house.  There was a high stone wall with a wooden farm gate set in it.  I could see a front garden area with washing lines and a couple of swings.  There were also a couple of smaller outbuildings that might once have been cattle sheds or stables, but had been converted to small cottages.  They each had their own front doors and curtained windows with flower boxes and bird feeders. 

       "As you can see, it used to be a big farm house.  Many years ago.  That's the home."

       "It's beautiful," I said.

       Thandie pointed to another large single-storey building to the right, just across the yard from the rest.

       "And that's the Day Centre."

       As she said it, a group of people came out and stood watching and waving.  One of them opened the gate for us.  Thandie opened the side doors and began to let people out.  Jake made a big elaborate arms-up-and-wide gesture, as if he'd suddenly popped out of a cake.

       "Yesss!!" he cried.  "Skills!!"

       He headed off up to the gate, calling out 'hello' to the others there.  Ian and Shirley followed him, as did Steven - at his own slightly staggering pace, still chatting to himself.  Greg stood by the passenger door as Thandie helped Jamie to get out.

       "His legs get so stiff... don't they Jim-Jam!"

       He laughed, putting his arm over her shoulder for support.  Finally he was standing.  He brought his arm down and hooked it through Thandie's as she slid the door shut.  I went to grab the bags and diary, but Thandie put up her hand.

       "That's Greg's job, Will.  He likes to carry the stuff in."

       I passed the bags out and Greg took them.  He was quite short - under five feet - and he had to hold the bags up so they didn't drag on the ground.  It looked like he was used to doing it, though, and didn't have any problems.  I grabbed the diary and followed them - Thandie and Jamie looking like a courting couple as they made their way up to the gate.

 

       I'd always struggled with meeting lots of new people, and had never liked clubs or parties or any other big social gatherings.  So I'd been anxious about this particular morning.  For some reason, though, I felt relaxed almost from the moment we stepped up among those people and went into the Day Centre.  Just like at Remus Lodge, they were a wide variety of ages.  I got a lot of chirpy 'Hellos' and a few handshakes as we went in.

       Laura and Maggie were both waiting by the door and introduced themselves.

       "Welcome to the Nut House," Maggie said.  "We're all a bit mental here.  Even the staff."

       Having had mental illness myself, I was touchy about things like that - like when people said things like 'I'm having a mental breakdown today', and meaning it as a joke.  It wasn't a joke at all.  Very far from it.  But it was one of those things I'd learned to put up with and go along with.  Easier than making people think you were a bit precious.

       Maggie was in her fifties, I guessed.  She was heavy-set and had a stern demeanour - emphasised by her large glasses, severe hairstyle and harsh, commanding tones.  I could see already what Thandie had meant.  A couple of her group had been loitering by the door.  One of them asked when we were starting.

       "I've already told you," she barked.  "We'll start once everyone's settled.  We want to show Will everything first.  Now, go and sit down and wait."

       Laura wasn't quite so brash.  She was probably late-thirties and jolly-looking, lots of gold jewellery, with jet black dyed hair with a pink quiff at the front.  She gave Maggie a glance, then looked at us and raised her eyes.

       "Nice to meet you," she said.  "We haven't started yet, so we can introduce you around and settle you in."

       The entry area led to a kitchen on the left with a big dining table loaded with files and papers.

       "This is where we do the cooking and prepare drinks," said Laura.  "Clients are only supposed to come in when we do cookery, otherwise they stay out.  So you can also come in here for a bit of a chill.  Do you smoke?"

       "No."

       "Well, there's a smoking shed out the back, anyway.  Some of the clients use it, too.  Your Shirley does.  We share it with the house."

       The kitchen had the usual: an urn for hot water, a huge fridge, a cooker, a microwave and a washing machine.  On the inside wall was a large hatchway - almost like a bar - that opened onto the main room.

       "People are supposed to queue there for their drinks, but mostly they come to the door."

       The main room was like a large classroom with wide windows overlooking the fields at the back and sides.  It was brightly decorated and the walls were covered with drawings and paintings that the clients had done.  There were rows of drawer units along two of the walls, plus a couple of cabinets.

       "They contain all the stuff we use.  Paints, brushes, paper, games, etc."

       There was an upright piano in one corner.  I played a bit, but not very well and not usually to an audience, so I didn't mention that.

       The clients were seated around three small 'islands' of work tables, five or six on each, and all eyes were on me as we looked around.  Strangely, again, I didn't feel as self-conscious as I would have done in other circumstances.  I noticed that a couple of people were rocking in their chairs, as Ian had done.  Maggie collared one of them - a tousle-haired Asian lad with winking eyes and a toothy smile. 

       "Stop rocking, Ganesh," she yelled. "What have I told you?  You'll break the chairs."

       He stopped - but then a few seconds later, when Maggie wasn't looking, he started again - winking and grinning at me as he did so.  I warmed to him immediately.

       The only exception with the seating in the main room was Greg.  He was sitting at an old school desk in one corner, on his own, completely absorbed in some activity involving playing cards.  It looked like he was playing Patience.

       "Greg knows card games, then," I said to Thandie.

       She smiled.  "No.  That's just his thing.  He just lays the cards down like that, in rows, one after the other.  Then he'll collect them up and start again when the desk top is filled.  There's no method to it.  He'll do that all day if you let him.  He seems to enjoy it, which is the main thing.  But we do try to get him to do other things.  Depends on his mood, really."

       At the back, some steps led up to another, smaller room with couches and armchairs.  A TV was mounted on the far wall, with a DVD player on a cabinet underneath.  There was also an old music centre and a couple of speakers.  The TV was on, showing a children's programme.  Steven had seated himself in one of the armchairs and was happily chatting away to himself.

       "Steven is also pretty much left to his own devices," said Thandie.  "There aren't any activities that he'll do, though he will sometimes sit with the others.  Like I said, though, we need to watch who he's around in case he gets triggered by something.  It's quieter up here, and it suits him better.  The others will come up here to relax during breaks."

       Back in the kitchen, Laura made the four of us a hot drink and we sat at the table.  Through the hatch, I could see them all sitting there, waiting expectantly, fiddling with their bags or chatting.  The rockers were still rocking (out of Maggie's sight).  Greg was still laying his cards down - his tongue curled down to his chin, as he'd had it in the bus.  Jake caught my eye and smiled, punching the air with his fist like he'd won a prize.  I chuckled.  I began to feel really positive about this at last.  It was such a good feeling.

       Laura gave us a rundown on the plans for the day.

       "We've got Literacy first.  We usually split into three groups according to abilities.  Some people like to try some reading.  Some like to just practice letters.  We've got one lad, Matthew, who's good at word puzzles and games.  Others will just like to sit and have a natter.  Perhaps you could float around the groups, Will, and check out what they do.  Get to know some people."

       "Sounds good," I said.

       "Then, after coffee, you and Thandie could take the group down to golf, and she can show you what happens there.  We have lunch at twelve.  Maggie takes her lot back to the home for lunch and my lot go over to the house.  You'll usually stay here with yours, give them their sandwiches and stuff, make them drinks.  We try to get going again by half-one, but it's often nearer two.  Depends how it goes."

       "Great."

       "Alright, then.  We'll drink this down and get cracking, gang."

(continued)  https://www.abctales.com/story/harryc/taking-care-4-iii-day-centre