The Pharmacist

The parcels continued to arrive over the next two weeks, at least one a day, sometimes two. Alice was startled every time the doorbell rang, correctly anticipating yet another unwanted delivery. The items were mainly from television shopping channels. However, some of the larger items came from local stores and ranged from a vacuum cleaner to perfume, jewellery, and everything in between. She decided to return them immediately, driving into Penrith and using different post offices to save the embarrassment of returning parcels daily. However, the most frightening incident was when Alice’s bank statement arrived and every single item received was on the list of transactions paid for with her debit card.

After the initial shock, it occurred to her that someone must have stolen her card, but a hurried search through her purse revealed that that wasn’t the case. Her second, more rational thought was that if someone had stolen her card or even knew the details, why would they send the items to her? A scammer or a thief wouldn’t do that.

So far, Alice had kept these deliveries a secret from Rachel, but eventually, shaken by the fact that the parcels were paid for from her account, she decided to ask for her daughter’s advice.

Rachel studied her mother’s bank statement. ‘But why have you bought all of this?’ Her voice barely hid the anger.

‘That’s the point. I didn’t buy them and I’ve no idea how this is happening.’ Alice felt a mixture of shame and embarrassment. If she’d expected sympathy and understanding, she was sadly disappointed. Rachel was furious.

‘They’ve been purchased on your debit card. You must have ordered them!’

‘Honestly, Rachel, I haven’t!’

‘I think you probably have but then forgotten about it.’

‘You still think I’m mad, don’t you?’ Alice was close to tears.

‘No, Mum, it’s an illness.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I know you can’t help it, but this is serious. You’re vulnerable and can be taken advantage of here on your own. I think we should look at taking measures to protect you.’

‘What kind of measures?’

‘Maybe it’s time to consider making a Power of Attorney order so I can help you with your finances. We could see a solicitor who’ll explain it all to you.’ Rachel was so calm and business-like now that her attitude provoked sudden anger in Alice, and frustrated tears spilt over.

‘I don’t need it explaining to me, Rachel. I know what Power of Attorney is, and I’m far from wishing to take such a step yet.’ Even to herself, she sounded irrational when she intended to be firm with her daughter while matching her coolness.

‘I can see you’re not in the mood to talk about this now, but perhaps you should think about it and we’ll discuss it another time. For now, do you want me to go to the bank and put a stop on your debit card?’

‘No, I can do that for myself. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m certain that I didn’t order any of these goods and I’m quite capable of sending them back, thank you, Rachel.’

Her daughter let the matter drop and left soon afterwards. As Alice reflected on their conversation, a cold fear washed over her. Was this what the future looked like? Was she to be forced into giving Rachel control of her life and all her decisions?

It was a scenario that sent a chill down her spine. There was no comfort in knowing that her daughter was the only person left to care for her in the future.

As Alice battled with these thoughts, the doorbell rang. A smiling pizza delivery man greeted her, holding out a large box and expecting payment, it was all too much for her. She shouted at the man, ‘I don’t even like pizza!’ and slammed the door in his face.

* * *

With no one else to turn to for advice, Alice rang Sarah. With a wise head on her shoulders, her new friend would understand and perhaps be able to help her decide what to do. Sarah promised to call round later that afternoon and asked if Alice needed her to bring anything, but the answer was no, just herself.

When Sarah arrived, it was to find Alice rather tense and longing to share recent events. Alice related the strange happenings of the last few days, including the mysterious parcels, the laptop problems, and the missing address book. Finally, she showed Sarah the bank statement, which seemed to ‘prove’ she’d ordered the goods herself. It was so much easier to talk to Sarah than it was to Rachel. She didn’t judge or make her feel stupid and consequently, Alice didn’t get flustered or angry, a response her daughter frequently provoked these days. Alice’s problems came tumbling out, bringing a measure of relief in sharing them with someone who understood and was prepared to listen, rather than assume she was in the wrong.

‘Rachel and I had quite a disagreement. She ended up suggesting that we see a solicitor and I give her Power of Attorney.’

‘And is this something you’d be happy to do?’

‘No, not at all. I don’t think it’s necessary yet, and in some ways, it would feel like admitting I was going mad. We exchanged some rather sharp words. I don’t usually get angry, but Rachel is so frustrating at times. She won’t even consider that I didn’t order all these things.’

‘I can see why she thinks you did, but someone else may be doing it as a prank. Jack’s come across this sort of thing before, I’m sure. People can be vindictive for no apparent reason other than they think it’s funny. Do you think that’s a possibility?’

‘But no one knows me here and I can’t think of anyone who would be so cruel.’

‘I’ll have a word with Jack and see if he has any suggestions if that’s okay with you?’

‘Yes, thank you, Sarah, another opinion’s always welcome. I haven’t a clue what to do about it all.’

‘Have you double-checked the card details on this bank statement with your debit card, just to make sure there’s not a technical error?’

‘Well, no, I checked to see if I still had my card but not that the numbers correspond. I’ll just go and get it.’ Alice went to find her handbag, but it wasn’t in the hall cupboard where it was usually kept. A brief search of other possible places didn’t reveal where the bag was, but she decided not to worry. It must be somewhere in the house. She’d check the numbers later.

Alice returned to Sarah. ‘I had it this afternoon when Rachel was here, but never mind. Shall we have a cup of tea?’

‘That would be great, thanks, but then I’ll have to be off. Jack’s taking me out for dinner tonight. We’re still enjoying discovering Penrith’s culinary delights.’

‘How lovely, we’ll have a cuppa, then I won’t keep you, but thanks for coming, I do appreciate it.’

As Alice pottered in the kitchen, she suddenly gasped. Sarah appeared in the doorway and found Alice staring at the open swing bin. Inside was her handbag, together with a pair of shoes and a new pair of gloves.

‘Forget the tea. Come and sit down.’ Sarah steered a trembling Alice from the kitchen, concerned at the shock on her friend’s face. ‘It’s just a trivial thing; you’ll be laughing about this tomorrow.’

‘But how did they get in the bin? I must have put them there, Sarah. Perhaps I am going mad after all!’

‘Don’t say that, Alice, we all do silly things occasionally. Maybe it’s time to talk to your GP. You never did make that appointment. Perhaps he could help to reassure you?’

‘I haven’t even registered with a GP here yet, but I think you’re right. It’s time to see someone. I don’t have to tell Rachel though, do I?’

‘No, Alice, you don’t. What happens between you and your doctor will remain confidential. Do you know which doctor Rachel uses?’

‘No, but I think she goes to Greenfield Surgery.’

‘Then you might like to try Hill Street. That’s where we’ve just registered. It’s probably nearer for you too and you’ve no chance of bumping into your daughter there.’ Sarah smiled.

‘Yes, I’ll do that, thank you, Sarah. Now you go and have a good night out. I’ll be fine now. I’ve got a handbag and a pair of shoes to clean.’

* * *

The next time Sarah visited Alice was a week later and there’d been five more parcels.

‘I appear to have ordered a matching set of underwear, not even in my size, a gadget to take the top off boiled eggs, an ugly plastic carriage clock and a set of Union Jack bedding. Then there’s that.’ Alice pointed to the corner of the room where a Zimmer frame stood, almost mockingly. ‘That one really made my blood boil; if someone’s doing this as some kind of joke, it’s gone way beyond funny.’

‘I spoke to Jack about it and he suggested cancelling your debit card and getting a new one as someone apparently knows your number. He says it’s not uncommon for people to do this kind of thing. They call it ‘pranking’, but as you say, it’s not funny.’

‘Yes, I’ve meant to go to the bank to do that but to be honest, Sarah, I’m getting so that I don’t want to go out – and I dread answering the door.’

Sarah looked more closely at her friend. Since leaving The Elms, Alice had certainly lost confidence and appeared to have lost weight too. She seemed to be tired and perhaps somewhat depressed, which wasn’t surprising considering everything she’d experienced since coming home. Sarah didn’t tell her friend that, although Jack expressed sympathy for Alice’s plight, he initially thought she must have ordered the goods herself and forgotten doing so. Sarah argued her case, convinced that Alice was not so far down the road of dementia that she’d do such a thing. Still, Jack again advised caution about becoming too involved, especially knowing that Rachel Roberts didn’t take too kindly to her. Sarah was sure Alice hadn’t told her daughter about their continued contact, which suited her fine. It was to be hoped she’d not encounter Rachel while visiting her mother. Maybe she was overstepping the mark by visiting and advising Alice, but there was something about Rachel Roberts that she didn’t trust.

‘Is there something else troubling you?’ Sarah asked. ‘You don’t look too well today.’

‘There is… it’s to do with Millie and I know she’s just a figment of my imagination, but I keep having dreams about her. There’s been something at the back of my mind for ages, a concern for her safety. In my dreams, she’s told me things that are troubling and even though I know she doesn’t exist, it still worries me. Now you must think I’ve really lost the plot! Are they just dreams, Sarah, or are these the false memories that the doctor at The Elms used to talk about?’

‘I’m honestly not sure, but I don’t think you’ve lost the plot. Dreams can be quite vivid and you’ve had so much going on lately that it’s not surprising the lines of fantasy and reality are a little blurred. Again, this is something you could talk about to the doctor. Did you manage to get an appointment?’ Sarah felt ill-equipped to comment on Alice’s mental state and this lady had become a friend, not a case study. A doctor would be the best person to advise her.

‘Yes, I’m seeing a lady doctor at Hill Street surgery on Friday. I’m dreading it, really, but you’re right, I need someone to talk to who can explain precisely what’s happening to me.’

‘I could come with you if you like? It’s no problem to change my shift.’

‘That’s so sweet of you, Sarah, but I have to get my confidence back and start to go out more on my own. I’ll be fine, but thanks for the offer.’