A Dying Trade: Memoirs of a nursing home proprietor. by William Webb

Author:William Webb [Webb, William]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

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A few days after the bath incident Colin was straightening the pictures that lined the wall of the main staircase. It was a job he did almost on a daily basis, even when it did not require doing, which was most days.

“I can’t stand a wonky picture” was his excuse.

“It’s your eyes that are wonky” was Val’s normal response.

Mr Hornsby had just reached the penultimate picture at the top of the staircase when the front doorbell rang. It was a persistent ring.

“Typical” he muttered to himself. He turned and looked down the staircase, hoping against hope that one of the women in the kitchen drinking tea would get up and open the door. Fat chance! He then espied Jack just leaving the dining room on his way to the lounge.

“Hey Jack, do me a favour and open the front door” shouted Colin, he thought the person at the door had to be a resident who had gone out for the morning and was now returning for a late lunch. Jack evidently thought the same because he opened the door wide and stood back.

To the proprietor’s surprise a complete stranger walked in and stood looking about in the vestibule. The man was largely built with a shaven head. He was clad in a scruffy black leather jacket and dirty jeans.

“Where’s Phil Burke?” he demanded loudly.

Jack shook his head and pointed up the staircase before walking into the lounge.

The stranger glanced at Colin.

“No, no” cried Mr Hornsby, “I’m not Phil Burke.”

“I know you’re not” said the man irritably, “but I saw him come in here.”

Val had heard the noise and now emerged from the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” she enquired.

“Have we got a Phil Burke?” enquired her husband. Val’s knowledge of their residents was far better than his.

“Definitely not” she replied.

“I’m sure I saw him come in here” insisted the visitor.

Colin was beginning to get alarmed. He wanted the man to leave.

“Perhaps you’d like to come back tomorrow?” he asked making a move towards the front door. To his immense relief the black jacketed man followed him and quickly left the building. Smiling broadly he returned back to where his wife was standing open-mouthed.

“What?” he enquired, slightly surprised at her response. He had expected her to congratulate him on successfully removing the unwanted guest.

“Come back tomorrow?” she asked incredulously. “Come back to what? Are you going out to find the mysterious Phil Burke?”

Colin shuffled his feet uncomfortably. He had just said the first thing that had come into his head. He certainly had given no thought to the consequences.

Val shook her head unbelievingly. “And even if you do find Mr Burke, where are you going to put him?” The home was operating at full capacity. “We could always squeeze him in with Florence. Poor old dear doesn’t take up much of the bed!”

Mr Hornsby had heard enough. “Well, he’s gone for now. If he comes back tomorrow we can always call the police.”

Fortunately, the stranger did not make a reappearance the following day. As for Phil Burke, he never materialised.

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