Finishing Touches (53 page)

‘That would be nice, Elsie,’ she agreed. Sometimes Nora knew her children and was quite lucid. At other times, she was off in a world of her own and Cassie could be anybody from
Elsie to her grandmother, or even a stranger.

It took a while to get Nora organized as she was having difficulty with buttons, but eventually they set off. Turning on to the sea road, Cassie could not even find solace in the setting sun
that was turning the sky and sea to flame. She had always looked forward to spending a few days at home, enjoying the picturesque beauty of Port Mahon, but at this moment she felt as if she were
about to become a prisoner. From now on she would no longer have a life of her own. She would be there to take care of Nora, and from the few books she had read on dementia and Alzheimer’s,
things would get much worse as time went on. How long it
would
go on was anybody’s guess.

They walked along slowly, Cassie accommodating her steps to her mother’s shorter ones. A man walking a glossy cocker spaniel came towards them and smiled as he passed by.

‘Good evening,’ he said pleasantly and Cassie responded politely. He seemed vaguely familiar and he had a lovely mellifluous accent. Oh Lord, yes! It was that Welshman, David
Williams, that Nora had accused of digging a tunnel under her bed. Maybe she should have apologized. Oh well, he was gone now. No doubt she’d see him again some time when she was back for
good.

Later, when Nora was in bed, Laura phoned. She was disgusted when she heard Cassie’s news.

‘They should be ashamed of themselves, the selfish buggers!’ she exclaimed.

‘I suppose in a way I always knew I’d have to come home. If I were the only one in the family, it wouldn’t upset me so much; it’s just their attitude that I’ve no
real responsibilities or any right not to be inconvenienced that bugs me. That’s the way it is with families, though, isn’t it? There’s always one who’s left to deal with
the problems. I just wish it weren’t me.’

‘Cassie, I’ve been reading up about this disease, and I came across a book that gives some very sound advice for the carer,’ Laura said briskly. Cassie smiled to herself. How
typical of her friend to be so practical.

‘Now, the thing is,’ Laura explained, ‘you must build up a network of support. You must allow time for yourself and you must let others share the load. Are you
listening?’

‘Yes, Laura,’ Cassie said meekly. Laura was always in her element when she was organizing and planning.

‘Now, you’ll have Mrs Bishop. Keep her on, for God’s sake. Then you’ll have John and Karen. You’ll have Martin – forget Barbara – and you’ll have
me! Cassie, on no account are you to give up your interests. You must enrol in a class or take up some activity to get you out of the house so that you’ll have time to yourself.
Right?’

‘Right,’ agreed Cassie.

‘And,’ ordered Laura, ‘you have to come over to me once a week for a meal and a chat and to unburden yourself – and of course to have a bit of a laugh, knowing us. I
really mean that now, Cassie. One night off a week is something you’ve
got
to insist on. The rest of them can take turns to sit with Nora. I’ll come over to you as well. So
don’t feel too lonely, Cassie. Don’t worry, I’ll be here any time you need me.’

Yeats’s lines flashed into Cassie’s head.

‘Are you there, Cassie?’ Laura said anxiously, when there was no response at the other end of the phone.

‘I’m here, Laura,’ Cassie assured her, swallowing the lump that rose to her throat. ‘And I’ll be over for dinner once a week, never fear. And thanks for all the
advice.’

‘Just take it!’ Laura said crisply.

It was pretty sound advice, Cassie reflected, as she sat on the flight back to Liverpool the following morning. Now that she had made her decision, she was going to have to make the best of it
and not go around acting the martyr! One of her great faults was taking everything on herself. Well, this was one thing that was too big to handle alone, however much she might think she could
cope. Cassie was going to have as positive an attitude as she could, because she realized that it would be the easiest thing in the world to despair because of the situation in which she now found
herself.

The first thing she had to do was to tell her employers, and then she was going to have to make a decision about the house. Personnel were exceptionally kind and refused her resignation, telling
her to take unpaid leave of absence for as long as she needed. Knowing that she didn’t have to burn her bridges gave her a great boost, she told Pauline and Ann over dinner that night. Her
two neighbours and colleagues were very upset that she was leaving and considering putting the house up for sale.

‘Look, my cousin Trish is getting married,’ said Ann, ‘and she and Mike haven’t bought a house yet and they’re looking for a place to rent. Why don’t you rent
your house to them? They’ll take good care of it and the rent would pay your mortgage; so at least you’ll still have the house when you come back to work.’

It was an excellent idea. Cassie had hated the thought of selling the house but she knew she wouldn’t be able to afford the mortgage if she weren’t working. Ann’s suggestion
was perfect, and she arranged to meet Trish and her fiancé. They were a likeable young couple, excited to be getting their first home. They loved Cassie’s house and agreed terms
quickly. She felt relieved that it would be in good hands.

John arranged to come to Liverpool with his van to take home her clothes, books and interior design equipment. The evening before she left she went for one last walk around, out of Madeley
Drive, where her house stood in redbrick neatness in its well-kept little court, across Hilbre Road and down Victoria Road to Banks Road. She’d miss Banks Road. She’d always enjoyed the
walk from the station on her way to and from work and Saturday morning was often spent browsing in the shops. She’d really miss What’s Cooking too! Cassie had become one of their best
customers. A minute later she was down on the South Parade, strolling along the Marine Lake, where she had spent so many happy hours windsurfing. She walked right around the causeway, breathing the
sea air, watching the lights of Wales across the river beginning to twinkle in the gloaming.

Far away to the right, she saw a cargo-ship gliding serenely across the Irish Sea. This time tomorrow, she’d be home! She walked past the boat-yard, listening to the breeze tinkling the
riggings. It was a sound she would always associate with this peaceful place where she’d been so happy. Reluctantly, Cassie took the road home. She didn’t sleep well that last night in
her own house.

John and Cassie arrived in Dun Laoghaire at six the following evening. Watching the Irish coast come into view, she felt many emotions but most of all apprehension. How was she going to cope
with what lay ahead?

That’s enough of that! she told herself sternly. You’ve made your decision. No more feeling sorry for yourself. Just get on with it!

When Nora’s tired, befuddled eyes lit up with recognition as she walked through the door, Cassie felt a heel for being so self-pitying.

‘I’m home, Mam!’ she hugged her mother. ‘Don’t worry, Cassie will take care of you.’

‘Haven’t you got the life of Reilly, all the same?’ Cassie heard someone say as she sat in the garden, sipping afternoon tea with her mother.

She managed to curb her irritation and reply as pleasantly as possible, ‘Hello, Mrs O’Connell, how are you?’

Maggs O’Connell got off her bike and looked as though she were prepared to stay for a good long chat. ‘Oh I’m fine myself, thank God, no complaints. I just came up to see how
poor Nora was.’

‘Of course you did, thought Cassie sourly. Maggs was currently president of the Port Mahon ladies’ club and loved a bit of gossip. She would relish going back to the rest of the
ladies and telling them, yes, it was really true, poor Nora Jordan had gone completely gaga and Cassie had come home to look after her.

‘It’s a warm day, all the same. It’s nice drinking tea in the open – very refreshing.’

‘Very refreshing,’ agreed Cassie, ignoring the other woman’s broad hint. If it had been anyone else, she would have offered them a cup of tea immediately.

‘And how
is
poor Nora?’ Maggs lowered her voice conspiratorially.

‘Oh, Mam’s fine, thank you!’ Cassie responded, smiling at Nora, who was gazing into the distance, oblivious of her visitor.

‘But how’s her memory?’ Maggs was not one to take a brush-off as readily as that. Honestly, Cassie Jordan had no manners. She wouldn’t even ask if you had a mouth on you.
Here she was gasping for a cup of tea after cycling all the way out of the goodness of her heart to see how Nora was.

‘Like us all, good days, bad days,’ Cassie said offhandedly. She was determined
not
to get into a discussion with this woman about her mother’s memory problems.

‘Are you the queen?’ Nora turned around and stared at Maggs.

Maggs’s jaw dropped and she turned to Cassie in confusion.

‘How very nice to meet you. We’ve been expecting you,’ Nora said, holding out her hand. Maggs shook it with an expression of shock. She hadn’t realized things were this
bad!

‘I’ll just go and see that your room has been prepared,’ Nora said grandly, heading up towards the house.

‘Excuse me, Mrs O’Connell, won’t you?’ Cassie said politely, getting up from her seat. ‘Thank you for calling.’

‘Oh, a pleasure . . . I mean . . . I mean you’re welcome!’ Maggs stuttered.
Wait
until she told the rest of them about this. It was very sad all the same to see Nora
Jordan end up this way. She was the best president the ladies’ club had ever had and had raised more money for charity in her terms of office than the previous three presidents put
together.

Cassie followed Nora up to the house. Maggs O’Connell had certainly got what she came for! Cassie smiled, remembering the other woman’s shocked expression. Ever since Nora had seen a
programme about the queen and the royal family a few days before, she had got it into her head that they were coming to visit her in Port Mahon, and there was nothing Cassie could do to persuade
her otherwise. In the end she had stopped trying to reason with her mother. Over the past couple of months she had found it was the easiest way to deal with her. Whatever notions she got, she let
her have them. If she called her Elsie, or Irene, or another name, Cassie didn’t argue. If Nora set the table for Jack’s tea, she let her. When she accused John of being an IRA man come
to shoot her, she just told her brother to go home and come back a couple of days later, by which time Nora would have forgotten the accusation. It was so hard to accept that her mother’s
mind had gone completely. There were times she didn’t know who Cassie was; at other times she would get terribly abusive, accusing Cassie of hatching all kinds of plots against her; and then
there were times like this afternoon, when she was quite placid, content to sip tea in her garden, lost in her own little world.

It was a disturbing experience watching her mother turn into a stranger who sometimes didn’t know her, and Cassie had to fight the tendency to get depressed. Her life had changed so
completely. She took Laura’s advice, though, and decided to do a correspondence course. Fine arts and antiques was the one she had finally selected. She could do it at her own pace.
She’d be learning something new and studying would keep her brain sharp.

‘Once a week, John spent an evening with Nora while Cassie went over to visit Laura. Mind, it was an hour and a half’s drive there and back, so she had only about three hours with
her friend, but it was a break, and Laura always went out of her way to cook a nice meal.

Cassie had joined a gym in Port Mahon as soon as she returned home, and when Mrs Bishop came in the mornings, she usually slipped off to the gym for a workout. She really looked forward to the
hour or two in the gym. It was a way of working off her terrible frustration.

As soon as she came home, Martin had moved out. He and Jean had bought the house in Skerries, and although they weren’t getting married for another few months, Martin explained that he
didn’t like the house to be empty. Cassie had been a bit annoyed, to say the least. It was as clear as day; now that she was here to look after Mam, the rest of them could get on quite nicely
with their own lives. Only John and Karen made any real effort to help out so that Cassie could have some kind of life.

It was never knowing what to expect with Nora that caused the major strain. She was dreadful for wandering off, particularly at night. Nora was always restless; she would wander around the
house, unable to sleep, and Cassie spent many an exhausted night making sure that she came to no harm.

‘One lovely warm August evening shortly after Maggs O’Connell’s visit, Cassie and Nora were having their tea in the garden. Cassie had been up three nights on the trot and was
exhausted. Her mother was flicking through a magazine. Cassie bought her plenty of magazines; Nora liked the pictures in them and they would keep her occupied for an hour or two.

Soothed by the rustle of the breeze through the trees, and the shushing rhythmic sound of the sea, Cassie felt herself relax as she sat in the deckchair, catching a few rays. Her tan had come up
magnificently, she had to admit, looking at her golden limbs. She and Nora spent a lot of time sitting in the garden; it seemed to give Nora solace and ease her restlessness, and Cassie had always
loved the outdoors. The scent of the roses and the flowering shrubs was heady and Cassie gave thanks for this few hours of pleasant serenity. She was dreading the winter, when Nora would be forced
to remain indoors.

Assured that for the moment Nora was quite happy, Cassie lay back in her deckchair and raised her face to the sun. Sunbathing was one of the most relaxing and pleasurable treats to indulge in,
and now that she had the chance she might as well take it. She had put her shorts on earlier in the day, and she slipped off her T-shirt and lay in her strapless bikini top, enjoying the heat of
the sun on her bare skin. A lovely lethargy enveloped her. It was just past six; she’d get another hour’s sun at least.