Red Ribbons (34 page)

Read Red Ribbons Online

Authors: Louise Phillips

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Suspense, #Crime Fiction, #Thrillers

He realised now that visiting the nursing home in Greystones was
essential. He needed to know if Kate was worthy of further attention. There was no better way to study a person than by getting close to their family. Taking a few days off work made everything much easier. He was glad he’d texted Bulldog Face. There would be no questions asked on his return. It would be just like his leave of absence. His boss had simply looked at him uncomfortably when he’d told him he needed time off due to personal circumstances. The fool hadn’t asked one question, not even when he told him about his ailing mother, and he would be exactly the same about his sudden sick leave.

The more he thought about it, the happier he was that Kate was looking after things. It was strange the way certain things turned out. It was her role to put together a profile of the killer, which in this case meant she was studying him as closely as he was studying her. There was a delicious mutuality in their situation that pleased him.

As he walked to the garage in Terenure, he wondered what she would think if she knew just how clever Mr Invisible had been. A trip to her mother was precisely the next course of action. Also, older people do so love their visitors. Indeed, the more he considered the task in hand, the more he was determined to relish every moment of it.


He arrived at Sweetmount at 4.15 p.m. with a box of chocolates under his arm and a large bunch of white lilies, which had been his own mother’s favourite. If he were the kind of man who whistled, he would have done so, but he decided a dignified entrance was best on this occasion. He turned the handle gently on the front door, unsure if it would grant him access, but to his delight it was open, so he walked straight into the hallway.

The home looked exactly as he had expected it to look. There were mismatched chairs with old women sitting in small scatterings around the room. Most of them looked up and smiled at him the way
they would smile at any other visitor. He waited with his chocolates and flowers, knowing someone in authority would soon arrive. He wasn’t disappointed.

‘Hello,’ said a woman with a voice sounding like she’d overdosed on an extra portion of cheeriness.

‘Oh hello,’ he replied as cheerily as the greeting he’d received.

‘Mr …’

‘William, please.’

The woman with the excess of cheer put her hand out to shake his.

‘William, it’s very nice to meet you.’

‘And you, I assume, must be Joan?’

‘Well yes.’

‘Kate has told me so much about you, and all the other girls. These are for them.’

Relieved to get rid of the chocolates, he offered them to the well-endowed chest of Joan Keegan, knowing full well she was delighted at being referred to as a girl.

‘Why thank you, William, they’ll be delighted.’

‘Kate has nothing but praise for you, and indeed Niamh, Ali and Caitriona. We are all most grateful.’

‘She’s very kind. Are you related to Kate, William?’

‘I’m an old family friend. My apologies, Joan, I know so much about you, I forget that you know so little about me.’

‘So you’re here to visit Gabriel?’

‘Yes, if that’s okay. I wanted to surprise her, you see, and again, I apologise, I probably should have given some notice.’

‘Well it’s outside normal visiting times, but we’re easy about these things here. We want our ladies to feel they are in a “home away from home”.’

‘I’m sure they do. Kate couldn’t speak more highly of the place.’

‘Again, she’s most generous. William, has it been long since you’ve seen Gabriel?’

‘Yes, a couple of years. I was away working, you see, just back in Ireland a little over a month.’

‘You picked a bad time to come back here. The place is in an awful mess.’

‘Yes, I know, dreadful altogether.’

‘You know about Gabriel’s condition then?’

‘You mean about her being a little forgetful?’

‘Well, I’m afraid it’s more than being a little forgetful. I’m sure Kate has told you that Gabriel is in the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s. It’s a very disabling disease and such a tragedy for a woman as young as Gabriel.’

‘Indeed, it’s extremely tragic. My own mother suffered from it, you know. I minded her myself in her later years.’

Joan smiled delightedly at this shining example of a good son. ‘Then Gabriel will be in safe hands. I’ll leave these in the kitchen for the girls and get her for you. Unfortunately, we need to keep Gabriel in the more restricted area of the nursing home because of her condition, I’m sure you understand. She’s in great form today, what with the bit of sunshine outside, she loves a little bit of sunshine. I’m sure she’ll be absolutely delighted to see you.’

‘Thank you, Joan. I’ll wait here, shall I?’

‘Certainly. Kathleen there will keep you company. She loves to chat, don’t you, Kathleen?’

As he waited for Joan to come back, he took his seat beside Kathleen, who indeed was very keen on a chat. He was very pleased with how things were turning out. It had been so easy, looking up the nursing home online. The website had lots of helpful details, including a picture of Joan Keegan, the proprietor. He noted she’d gained a few pounds and a few years since her web photo had been taken. Joan had only written her first name on the postcard, as had Niamh, Ali and Caitriona. The prescription receipts stuffed in the back of the dressing table drawer might not have meant anything to most people, but the
medication was something he had given to his own mother. The more he thought about Kate and all the things they had in common, the more he realised his worries about how badly things had gone with Caroline and Amelia were ill-founded. Had it not been for them, he and Kate Pearson might never have met. Really, he couldn’t deny that everything was falling into place as part of a delightful pattern.

As he waited, Kathleen told him all about the nursing home – what time they had dinner, how to get to the gardens out back. She even introduced him to the other ladies who sat in the large hallway. They all liked sitting there because of the open fire, Kathleen told him; she herself just loved open fires. He was extremely attentive. By the time Joan Keegan wheeled Gabriel Pearson out to greet him, he knew more than enough about Sweetmount Nursing Home, and the lovely ladies in it.

The first thing he noticed about Gabriel, as her wheelchair moved closer to him, was the way her mouth hung open, her lower lip dry, incapable of joining the upper one any more. It must be disgusting to watch her eat. No doubt she would have to be aided. His mother had been like that for a while, after one of her turns, the food continually collapsing out of her mouth like a sloppy child.

‘Lovely to see you, Gabriel. You look absolutely splendid.’

‘Look, Gabriel, William is here to visit you, and he’s brought you such beautiful flowers.’

Gabriel attempted a smile at both William and Joan, taking the lilies, smelling them automatically. When she looked up at him, she kept pushing her hair behind her ear, a form of repeat comfort, thanking him over and over. The woman had good manners at least.

It must have been difficult for Kate lately, what with the boy and all, both of them being such a draw on her attention. A sickly parent with a selfish disposition could wear a person down. He understood this more than most.

Two cups of tea later, and Gabriel was very happy to allow him to
take her for a visit to the back garden. He knew exactly where to go. Kathleen had been very precise: a small area around the back that gave lots of sun and was away from the noise of traffic. It was like being in a secret garden, Kathleen had told him.

He asked Joan for a blanket to keep out the October chill, insisting loudly that Gabriel must be wrapped up well before venturing out. Caitriona had been most obliging, running upstairs to fetch one. A number of the ladies gave them a wave as they departed for the garden.

‘It’s lovely out here, is it not, Gabriel?’

‘I love gardens.’

‘I know you do. Most of the flowering is gone now though. Shall we explore the secret garden at the back?’

‘Secret garden? I don’t know any secret garden.’

‘Well, it’s a secret, isn’t it?’

Attempting to turn her head backwards to look up at him, she said, ‘I don’t think I know you.’

‘I’m William, Gabriel. Forgetful are we?’

‘I don’t think I know you.’

‘You will, Gabriel, you will.’

‘I want to go back. I’m cold. Take me back,’ her voice was loud but hoarse.

‘Don’t get angry, Gabriel. It isn’t ladylike.’

‘I want to go back. Nurse, nurse.’ Her voice sounding pathetically weaker.

‘They can’t hear you, Gabriel. Look, we are here now. I’ll put the brakes on the wheelchair and sit beside you. Plenty of room on the bench now we’re alone.’

‘I want to go back, do you hear me? I want to go back. My daughter—’

‘Kate?’

‘Kate, yes Kate.’

‘Kate and I are very close, Gabriel. She’s a little busy right now.’

He looked round to check that they were indeed out of view from any of the windows. He smiled to himself. Good old Kathleen had been spot on about this place.

‘Shall I move your blanket up, Gabriel? You said you were cold.’

‘Can I go back? Please, I don’t want to be here.’

‘But you love gardens.’

‘Who are you? I don’t think I know you. My daughter will be worried. My daughter …’

‘You put a strain on her, you know. Kate finds it very tough right now.’

‘I don’t mean to be a bother.’

‘Maybe not, Gabriel, but you are.’

‘Did she say that?’

‘She didn’t have to.’

‘I just want to go back inside. Can I go back?’

‘Shush now, no need to get upset. I need time to think a little. Why don’t you go for a nap like a good girl?’

‘I don’t want to. I want to go back.’

‘It’s not all about what you want, Gabriel. Close your eyes, that’s the girl. Everything is going to be just fine.’

He noticed saliva dripping down one side of her mouth, just like his own mother. It wasn’t fair, she was being a selfish bitch. The woman was blind to what she was doing to poor Kate. Standing behind the wheelchair, he moved his fingers through her thin hair, the pink of her grained scalp more obvious now. She hadn’t expected him to yank her by it, there was barely enough for him to get a decent hold.

‘Ahhh, you’re hurting me.’

‘It’s supposed to hurt, Gabriel.’

‘Please, please. I don’t know who you are. Please take me back.’

‘Now, now, Gabriel. Not so loud. Nobody can hear you here, so less snivelling, please. It’s not very ladylike, now, is it?’

Putting his hand over her mouth, he listened as the trees swayed,
the breeze getting stronger all the time. In the distance, he heard the hum of traffic and within it, the faint sound of the birds.

‘You are a disappointment, Gabriel, a distraction for Kate. You understand that, don’t you? I need to take care of you. While you’re here, she can’t be free. She doesn’t know it, of course. Just like Kate, I had to mind my mother. But was she grateful? It took me a while to understand just how selfish she was. Are you listening to me, Gabriel?’

He took his hand away from her mouth.

‘Please, I don’t know who you are. I want to go back. I’m cold, I need to go back.’

‘Cold, are you? Thinking of yourself again? It’s always about you, isn’t it? It’s not right. Yes, my mother was the same, utterly selfish. You only know these things afterwards, of course. Afterwards, everything becomes much clearer. Are you still listening, Gabriel?’

He leaned in closer.

‘What’s that, Gabriel? Not so melodramatic now, are we? Dear, dear, muttering is terribly rude.’

‘I want to go home … please. I don’t know you. I’m cold. I want to go inside.’

‘A little patience, Gabriel, I need to contemplate our next move.’

It would be easy to close his hands tight around her neck and snap it. Shut her up once and for all. Some might think it a relief. But how would Kate feel? Would it distract her? The beginning of a relationship was tricky. She had only just begun her work in understanding him. One wrong move and he could ruin everything. No, he decided on reflection, now wasn’t the right time. There was no need to rush. Gabriel wasn’t going anywhere.

Tidying her hair, he pulled her blanket further up over her knees, listened to her mumbling her prayers, soothed her by rubbing her forehead until she dozed off.

He didn’t hear Caitriona coming around the corner. ‘Gabriel, it’s time for your tea. We can’t keep the other ladies waiting.’

‘What perfect timing, Caitriona,’ he gave her one of his biggest smiles. ‘Gabriel must be famished by now with all this fresh air.’

He had no doubt Gabriel would forget about him by the time she was back inside. She barely even turned to watch him walk away. Alzheimer’s was such a convenient disease in so many ways.

Ellie

I WON’T SEE DR EBBS UNTIL TOMORROW. EVER SINCE I made up my mind to ask him for Amy’s photograph, time seems to be turning more slowly.

By late afternoon, most of the weekend visitors have gone and all the weekend’s top television programmes, recorded since Friday night, are being rerun in Living Room 2. The days of the week don’t matter to me, but to others, those who are lucky or unlucky enough to have visitors, they are very important. Even when I was a normal person I never liked Sundays, and I’ve had no reason to change my feeling towards them now. All I care about is that when I see Dr Ebbs, I will get a piece of Amy back.

There are the usual suspects gathered for our afternoon TV viewing. The ‘inmates’ of our wing are all women. There’s Lizzie, a chain smoker. She sits in the corner, in her ‘special place’, for lighting up. It’s been five years since the smoking ban, but they still put her there. Underneath her chair is a decade of burned tobacco stains. Like me, she is a long-term patient. So too is Emily. Emily tells everyone she suffers with her nerves, whatever that means. Unlike Lizzie and me, she still gets visitors, mainly her son. According to Emily, he owns St Michael’s and she believes it’s very good of him to allow us lunatics to stay here. Then there is Margaret. She and I have something in common: she too has tried to kill herself. She doesn’t believe anyone loves her. Her family tell her they do, but she doesn’t believe them.

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