P.S.O Jules Stewart
Margery has been in to clip Dorace’s nails, wet comb her hair and help her to wash with a sanitiser.
‘I remember I used to have a shower twice a day. Every morning and every night,’ Dorace says,‘With real water and body washes.’
‘I remember that too,’ I say, ‘And when we move you can have a shower again, perhaps not twice a day, but we will have our own shower. Not long now.’ I say. I haven’t dared log on to see if the strata twenty cube is still available. I don’t want to know if it’s gone. I need to think it’s there to aim for, to keep me going.
‘Margery told me about your case.’ Dorace says, ‘You must find that kiddie,’ she says, grabbing my arm, ‘a woman shouldn’t lose a daughter. You will find her won’t you.’
I pat the stumpy, swollen jointed fingers pinching my sleeve. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll find her. I’m getting close now I’m sure and when I do find her we’ll be able to move and I can look after you.’
‘I don’t know what’s keeping your mother. I was expecting her a while ago.’ Dorace says moving away from me and wringing her hands. ‘I can’t remember where she went. Can you?’
‘She went shopping.’ I say
‘Yes that’s right she went shopping.’ She says as if she’s about to remember. ‘Well I expect she’ll be here any minute then.’ and sits in her chair to wait.
I sit and wait too. Only I’m not waiting for my mother but for a message from Fat Peter. He doesn’t disappoint, an alert calls my attention, he’s arranged a strange place to meet but I’m in no position to be choosy.