Highchair

‘You had a stroke.’

She can remember falling. ‘Broken hip’, she thought when she woke up in hospital. Followed by ‘I’m not going into a home, I’m going home.’

She goes home. Family and carers visit. She wears her alarm pendant. She feels safe. She does not travel far. Day by day she sits in the highchair beside the living room window. She watches the life of the estate pass bye.

As usual the red mini takes the corner at speed, running up on to the edge of the pavement. Kids play there in the summer. One of these days he will hit someone.

The regular dog walkers are out each morning. Barry, the window cleaner, with his chocolate brown labrador bought in lockdown. Liz, receptionist in the surgery, recently retired, couldn’t put up with the verbal abuse from patients, and her spaniel. The man with the little terrier, recently moved to the estate, name unknown but once she is out and about, she will find out.

The voices unsettle her. She closes her eyes and hears them. She puts that down to the medication.

Hello Gran. School was good today. I got my best marks ever in my science and there’s a French test at the end of the week.

There’s a man wearing an old blue raincoat. Clutching a plastic Sainsbury’s bag. He shuffles up the side road that leads to the houses that are still being built. She knows he is not a resident. Some poor down-and-out looking for a place to sleep for the night she thinks. A police van arrives and leaves half an hour later with him in it.

Hello Jean. Your looking well. The usual crowd were asking after you at church. I’ve got a WI meeting later today. There’s a guest speaker talking about how to prepare potted plants for the garden.

There’s a bit of excitement one afternoon. She hears the siren, then the blue lights of the ambulance as it shoots past to the end of the street. Not long after it is followed by a car with the letter’s ‘doctor’ on its bonnet. She does not see them leave and thinks she must have dozed.

Hello Mum. Mary sends her love. She will pop in later after she picks the kids up from school. I’ll be away for a few days. I have to go to York to carry out some interviews.

Rainy days are the longest. She sees the children run to catch the school bus. The dog walkers hurry past. The white ‘bread van’ does not do much trade. A new couple move into Number 56. Marie and Jon lived there for a couple of years, split up and sold up. She watches the removal men hurry backwards and forwards from van to house in the drizzle and then give up as it turns to a downpour.

Hello Mum. Jack will be back from York tomorrow. The interviews lasted longer than planned. He’ll bring Dusty in with him. The vet kept her in for observation but says she is fine now.

Today is the strangest day. She is sitting in the highchair. A hot cup of tea and toast on the side table. She can’t remember the carer making this for her. It’s her favourite time of the day. She loves watching what’s happening outdoors. The postman waves on his way past. Brian from next door flashes his van lights as he reverses out of the shared drive. She closes her eyes.

A dog is barking.  Josh her grandson is telling her how much he misses her. Mary is crying. Josh is saying ‘yes’ to the words ‘do not resuscitate.’