The Pharmacist

Alice formed a plan. Even in her often-confused state, she identified a pattern in how she felt and became convinced that the medication, administered three times a day, was only adding to her confusion rather than easing it. Sadly, Rachel’s visits seemed to exacerbate the confusion too, and her daughter’s insistence on being right was hard to take and continually frustrating for Alice. She almost wished that Rachel would stop visiting, a thought she wouldn’t dare voice to anyone else.

Sadly, Alice was beginning to distrust her daughter. After all, wasn’t she the one insisting that Tom was dead and that Millie was nothing more than a figment of her imagination?

The plan was, in part, to stop taking the medication. It wouldn’t be as easy as it sounded because the carers stood over her as she took the tablets, although some were less vigilant than others. Alice would put the pills in her mouth if necessary and conceal them under her tongue until she was alone and could flush them down the toilet. But the most distasteful part of the plan was to go along with the lies that Tom was dead and that Millie didn’t exist.

Even though it went against the grain, and she was usually straightforward and honest with the people in her life, Alice felt this was her only chance of getting out of The Elms, to have the opportunity to search for her missing husband and granddaughter. Surely she was not so far gone that Rachel’s lies could be true? Alice had seriously considered this possibility but ruled it out, knowing with the utmost certainty that Tom hadn’t died four years earlier, and as for Millie’s existence, that was true as well. At times Alice could almost feel her granddaughter in her arms, her slim little body warm and comforting as she snuggled into her grandma for one of their special cuddles. She could smell the child’s scent, sunshine and fresh air – yes, Millie was real, Alice was certain.

Throughout the morning, Alice vacillated between a determination to carry out the plan and fear that she was demented and Rachel and the doctors were right. It was only her sheer frustration at the situation which delivered the courage to take matters into her own hands, and so when the nurse arrived with her medication after lunch, Alice was prepared. The nurse watched Alice put the tablets in her mouth, and offered her a glass of water. Alice took barely a sip and held the tablets under her tongue. She asked the nurse to close the curtains so she could sleep, then smiled and closed her eyes. As soon as the nurse left the room, Alice went into the bathroom and spat the tablets into the toilet bowl, flushing it twice to ensure they disappeared without a trace. It was easier than she’d expected, and if she could do the same each time someone brought her medication, Alice was sure she’d feel so much better for it, more like her old self.

* * *

Sarah stuck her head around the door and was greeted by a wide smile. ‘Hello! You’re looking very pleased with yourself today.’

‘I’m feeling it. Come in, tell me how you are.’ Alice grinned. The volunteer was always a welcome visitor, Sarah made the time to chat, and Alice enjoyed their chats.

‘I’m fine, thanks, and I have some news for you.’ Sarah moved closer to talk without being overheard by anyone who may be passing outside the room.

‘You should be having a visit from a Best Interests Assessor in the next few days.’

‘What’s that?’ Alice had never heard the term before.

‘It’s someone who’s qualified to assess whether or not you’re capable of making your own decisions. They’ll talk to you and ask what you want for your future. Afterwards, they’ll consult with the doctor to decide if you’re able to do what you want to do.’

‘Does Rachel know about this?’ Alice asked.

‘I don’t know, but probably not. I’ve only found out this morning because I was asking questions. There’s no appointment scheduled. The assessor will call in when he or she gets the chance and will probably see you here in your room.’

‘Good. Don’t tell Rachel, will you?’

‘No, I won’t. I don’t think your daughter likes me very much, but whether or not the doctor will tell her beforehand, I’m not sure.’

Both women were silent for a moment, Alice speaking next.

‘A Best Interests Assessor, eh? I wonder whose best interest will be served?’

‘Oh, Alice, yours naturally, we all want the best for you.’

‘I know you do, dear, but I wonder about some of the others…’

They discussed books, and Alice began to comment on when she was teaching but stopped abruptly. ‘Sorry, you don’t believe I was a teacher, do you?’

‘It’s not a question of what I believe. It’s what we’ve been told. Rachel says you never taught and mostly worked in clerical jobs. I’m sorry, Alice.’

‘It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Perhaps I’d better not say anything about teaching when the assessor visits or mention Tom or Millie.’ Tears welled in her eyes.

‘Don’t get upset, please. The assessment will be fine, I’m sure, and even if you do get a few things muddled up, it doesn’t mean they’ll keep you here indefinitely.’

‘Really, do you think there’s a chance that I might go home?’

‘I think it’s a possibility, yes, they’ll certainly ask what you want to do. But worrying about it isn’t going to help. Simply be yourself and answer any questions as well as you can. My husband always says that if you don’t know an answer, be honest and say so rather than waffle.’

‘Your husband sounds like a very sensible person; I’ll take his advice and keep my fingers crossed.’

‘Fingers crossed about what?’ Another voice chipped into the conversation and they both turned to see Rachel standing in the doorway. Sarah felt herself blush and didn’t know what to say.

‘Oh, just an assessment that’s coming up soon.’ Sarah stammered.

‘And I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you, aren’t I, dear?’ Alice had never sounded so lucid and was satisfied her daughter assumed the assessment was connected to Sarah.

‘Yes, thank you, Alice, I’ll leave you alone with your visitor now.’ Sarah smiled and left the room. Rachel perched on her mother’s bed,

‘Really, Mum, you shouldn’t encourage the staff in idle chatter. She must have work to do and why do you let her call you Alice? Calling you ‘Mrs Roberts’ would show much more respect.’

‘I think chatting to the residents is part of her job, Rachel, and I asked her to call me Alice. Sarah is very respectful and cares about me.’ She felt somewhat bold and held her daughter’s gaze, daring her to argue the point. Rachel smiled at her mother.

‘I’ve brought you one of those custard slices you enjoy from the bakers in the High Street. You can eat it now if you like. I’ll fetch a fork from the day room.’ She opened a cake box and presented her offering to her mother, who looked at it rather suspiciously.

‘Actually, I’ve only just finished dinner, so I’ll have it later. Just leave it on the side there, thank you.’

The visit passed quite amicably. Rachel made an effort at conversation and told Alice about an upcoming conference she would be attending the following week.

‘I’ll be away from Monday to Friday, but I’ll ring every day to see how you are.’

‘There’s no need. I’m looked after very well.’

* * *

Rachel was somewhat puzzled by her mother’s mood. Alice hadn’t attempted to confront her about her father or even mention ‘Millie’. Perhaps she was beginning to accept that she’d be in The Elms permanently?

‘Right, I have to be getting back to work now. Why don’t you eat the custard slice before I go, then I can clear the box away for you?’

‘No, thank you, I don’t think I could manage it yet. I’ll have it with my afternoon coffee, but you shouldn’t keep spoiling me with all these little treats. You get back to the shop now, Rachel. I’ll be fine.’

Rachel left without seeing the doctor. She didn’t want him to think that she was an overanxious daughter. They would contact her if they had any concerns. However, it would have been Rachel who was concerned if she’d witnessed her mother wrapping the custard tart up in several layers of tissue and stuffing it into the bottom of the waste bin.