Chapter Twenty

Annie pulled on the handbrake and steeled herself for the visit. She checked her hair in the rear-view mirror and applied a little lip gloss before locking up her dad's ancient Ford escort and walked inside. The décor of the nursing home was clearly an attempt to be homely but was in need of updating. She rang the bell on the reception desk and was greeted by a plump, rosy-cheeked nurse with a glistening forehead. The temperature in the home didn't take account of the sheer hard graft involved in taking care of its elderly residents.

“Hi, I'm here to see my gran, Gladys Marshall,” Annie began, “her friend Betty usually comes but…”

Annie stopped short of telling the nurse her sad news.

“Gladys is in the day room.” The buxom nurse pointed in the direction of the door on the left, a little way further into the home and then bustled off in the opposite direction.

Annie smiled and nodded before making her way gingerly towards the door. She stood briefly in the doorway and stared. Wipe clean armchairs lined the walls and were filled with men and women with varying degrees of mental and physical infirmity. One woman stood by the window, staring out and talking to herself with intermittent bouts of sinister laughter. Her slightly hunched appearance made her look like a witch. All that was missing was the hat, the cat, and the cauldron. The smell in the room was inescapable too. The stench of old people wee invaded Annie's nostrils. Annie scanned the faces of the residents, looking for Gladys, until her eyes were drawn to a small, shrunken woman sat curled up in the chair nestled in the far corner of the room. The old woman's fingers fiddled and fidgeted with the hem of her skirt and she stared straight ahead, intermittently tapping her hands on her knees. Annie knew it was Granny Gladys straight away, even without her trademark hair. She recognised her grandmother's eyes, even from that far across the room. Annie began to cross the room but was startled by a resident shouting at her and grabbing hold of her arm.

“Have you come to pick me up?” the woman yelled. “Wait, and I'll get my coat.”

Annie pulled her arm back, unnerved but more saddened by the old woman's distress than her own. Annie kneeled down close to Gladys and gently dropped her hand onto her grandmother's. Gladys lifted her head and offered Annie what she thought was a smile of recognition until the old woman muttered a mix of jumbled unrecognisable words then laughed, obviously unaware of the identity of her visitor. Annie sat there in the armchair next to Gladys in silence for forty minutes then made her retreat. She wondered how Betty managed all those years like that. Annie didn't bother telling her that Betty died, there was no point. Before she could make her escape, Annie's exit was obstructed by the nurse wheeling a trolley filled with an unusual array of plastic cups; some with handles and some with odd looking spouts, some even had both.

“You're not leaving already, are you?” She smiled. “You could help Gladys with her cup of tea before you go. That would be a big help.”

Her words sounded more like an instruction than a request, so Annie felt obliged to nod and smile in return. The nurse handed her one of the cups with both a spout and a handle, filled with what appeared to be very milky tea. When Annie offered Gladys the cup, the old woman merely stared at her and muttered away to herself as if Annie wasn't even there. Unsure what to do, Annie kneeled down and held the cup closer to her grandmother's face which triggered a response she would expect from a young baby. Gladys opened her mouth and waited for the spout to be put to her lips so she could start to suck the tea from a specially adapted cup. Annie was horrified by the indignity. The nurse quietly laid some tissues on the chair next to her and moved away. When the cup was empty Annie wiped her grandmother's chin and stood up to leave. She couldn't wait to get out of there.

“Thanks for doing that.” The nurse intercepted Annie once again.

“No problem,” Annie lied, it was horrible doing that. She couldn't bear the thought of anyone feeding her like that from a baby cup.

“It was nice of you to visit her. Usually it's just Betty who comes to see Gladys. Mind you, some of them don't get any visitors at all now.”

“She had no idea who I was, did she?” Annie hovered by the door.

The nurse put down the cups she was holding and sighed. “I won't lie to you, love; she didn't have a clue but I like to think somewhere locked inside her, she was happy that you took time to sit with her and then helped her have a cup of tea, even if she can't say it.”

Annie sniffed away a little tear. “I hope so.”

“We'll maybe see you again, then?”

Annie smiled and nodded then walked out the door and back to the car; relieved to be out of there.

Instead of going straight back to the farm, she headed to Betty's cottage to make a start on sorting through and packing up her things. She wished she'd asked Kate to join her as the silence was uncomfortably eerie and it was so cold, despite it being the middle of summer. Betty's wishes were that the cottage was sold and the proceeds be given in full to a charity involved in Alzheimer's disease research, which wasn't a surprise to Annie or anyone else for that matter. Annie was shocked to find that Betty had left her some money, too. She had no idea that Betty was as wealthy as she was. Each of Kate's children was given a little to put away for when they were older, too. Most surprisingly of all was that Matty had been left a decent amount of money, too. Betty's will was last updated after Sophie's birth, to include her with the other beneficiaries left unchanged for twenty years. Annie completely understood exactly why she did it. She knew Betty's heart broke for Lisa and Danny and little Matty. Annie shook the black bag open and began to remove Betty's array of cardigans and blouses from the drawer. She realised she's never seen Betty Mason in a dress, not even at Kate's wedding. Annie tied up the two black bags of clothes and shoes for delivery to the charity shop and turned her attention to a plain wooden box which she'd found in the bottom drawer of the dresser. She ran her fingers over the lid then pushed the box back without opening it but kept her eyes firmly fixed on it while she nibbled her bottom lip. Annie was torn between unbelievable curiosity and respect for Betty's privacy. She tapped her fingers on the top of the dresser and tried to move away, to distract herself with stripping Betty's bed sheets to wash. That box wasn't going anywhere, she told herself. The sweet scent of lavender invaded Annie's nose as the sheets lifted from the bed. The smell brought an instant image of a laughing Betty into her mind and a small tear gathered at the idea she would never see her old friend again. The thought of all those wasted years hurt. Annie switched on the washing machine for what would be its last time in this cottage, then clicked the kettle on before rinsing through the dishes left lying in the sink. The cottage was so quiet without Jinky and the clucking of the chickens in the garden. Annie took the chickens and Jinky back to the farm with her. It seemed the only logical thing to do; they had the space after all and fresh eggs every day appealed to Annie. A homeless charity which helps people resettle into their own flat was to receive Betty's cooker and washing machine and all the other household goods like plates, cups, etc. Annie had arranged for them to collect everything at the end of the week so she could allow herself the time to sort through the cottage properly without rushing. Billy could take care of the farm while Dad was recovering from his surgery. Gordon's discharge was planned for next Monday and that gave Annie all the time she needed to do everything. Her cup of tea tasted wrong without Betty's pancakes and jam or perhaps it was the milk which Annie considered was maybe sailing too close to its best before date so after pouring more than half a cup down the sink, she began to fill the mop bucket. The sound of footsteps outside tore into the silence and made Annie jump. When she peered out the kitchen window, she saw Billy heading round the back and into the chicken shed before returning with open bags of chicken food. Annie ducked down quickly so that he wouldn't see that she was here. He hadn't admitted to even having a female guest, let alone given Annie her name and the nature of their relationship but Annie was no fool. Billy was a red-blooded, sexy man and his guest was a pretty young woman. It didn't take a genius to figure out what the situation was. He didn't owe Annie anything after all. They'd known each other less than a week. She was relieved to see that he took what he wanted and left. Annie watched his retreat until he disappeared from sight. Her head said, that's right girl, you let him walk away, you don't need that; but her heart wanted to race after him and drag him to bed. Before locking up, Annie remembered the wooden box and decided to take it with her for safe keeping because she wasn't entirely sure what else to do with it. Betty had been so precise with her wishes that Annie was surprised to have this dilemma at all.

The lid on the wooden box almost flipped off as Annie bounced over the drive to the farm house and she slammed her hand on it just in time but she did get a tiny glimpse of the contents. This teasing glance only fuelled her curiosity further as she lifted it from the passenger seat and locked up the car.

“Hello,” a strong German accent attracted Annie's attention when she was intercepted by Billy's visitor who was finishing her cigarette outside his front door.

The young woman beamed a friendly, warm smile in her direction and Annie thought she recognised the vest she was wearing, which was clearly several sizes too big and had been customised into a dress on her petite frame. It was one of Billy's. Annie's heart thudded when her fears were confirmed. Billy was already taken and she had come back to Carrlochry only to resume her role of mistress. No, not this time, she assured herself and waved politely to the woman without speaking and hastily made her retreat into the farm house.

Billy had heard Annie's car approach and hurried from the machinery shed to talk to her. He was concerned that she had been avoiding him and wanted to find out what was bugging her.

“Did Annie go straight inside?” Billy asked the girl who stubbed out the remainder of her cigarette and informed him of Annie's rapid retreat.

Billy knocked once and tried the door handle and found it locked. He frowned and hammered loudly. When he failed to attract her attention, he crouched down to shout through the letter box.

“Annie, it's me, let me in.”

When his pleas were greeted with silence, Billy moved to the back door and found Annie outside with Jinky close to her heels.

“Didn't you hear me knocking?” He was confused. “The door isn't usually locked.”

Annie looked directly at him and shrugged. Billy shrugged his shoulders in return.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me, Billy.”

Billy narrowed his eyes as his confusion deepened. “Tell you what? What's with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?”

Billy reached out to touch Annie shoulder but she moved quickly aside.

“What the hell, one minute you're all over me and now you're…”

“Now, I'm what,” Annie snapped. “Now I'm pissed to find out you're not as available as you made me believe.”

Billy looked completely baffled by Annie's outburst.

“Don't lie to me; I'm not a little girl who can have the wool pulled over her eyes anymore.”

Annie snatched the laundry basket from the ground and spun round to head back inside just as the problem became clear to Billy.

“Are you talking about Juniper?”

Annie stopped and turned to face him but now couldn't think of what to say next.

Billy took the basket from Annie's hands and laid it down before taking hold of her hands.

“Is Juniper the reason for the silent treatment?”

“Why didn't you tell me you already had a girlfriend?” Annie trembled.

“Juniper is my daughter,” Billy announced. “Did you really think I'd have an eighteen-year-old girlfriend! What kind of man do you think I am?”

Billy laughed at the pink flush rising up on Annie's face.

“She doesn't look eighteen,” Annie stuttered and wished the ground would open up and swallow her.

“Don't get me started on that one. Look, she's been travelling and just turned up out of the blue a couple of days ago—for money, as usual, of course, and she's had a bust up with her mates over a lad and she needed some dad time. Her mum has a new family and Juno feels a bit pushed out, you know.”

Annie felt awful for judging both Billy and his daughter, but butterflies tumbled in her stomach when she thought of being with Billy again. They had a lot of making up to do. She wrapped her arms round his neck and kissed him softly until Billy lifted her with ease and took her inside to continue their reunion.