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Care

Sam Paget

    The Carer didn’t knock. She had keys to the house, and let herself in. The Student followed her. They entered a bare house, with nothing on the walls. Everything was beige and magnolia, with a thin film of dust on just about everything. They walked past the kitchen, where everything was a lot cleaner, except for the inside of the microwave, which had dried food crusted all over it. The sound of daytime TV came from the living room. The air smelled stale, like wet clothes left in a washing machine.
    “Hello Corey, how are we today?” chirped the Carer as she entered the living room. A thin man sat in a threadbare armchair chair facing the TV. He couldn’t sit still. He twitched and trembled while he sat looking at the TV. His eyes flicked towards the two women as they entered and he raised his arm to wave. He said something, but the Student only heard a grunt. It was probably a greeting, shaped by a tongue that lacked the precision and control to craft a proper syllable. A folded up wheelchair, and a grey Zimmer frame leaned against the wall beside the armchair.
    “This is Corey,” said the Carer. She picked up the remote control, and turned the TV volume down.
    “Hello again Corey,” said the Student. “We met the other day. I was with Karen. We made his lunch.”
    “Good good. We’re going to give him his medication, tidy up a bit in here, and give him his dinner.” She picked up a folder of paperwork and a bottle of pills from a cabinet in the corner of the room. The Student got a glass of water from the kitchen, and used it to help Corey take his medication. The man struggled to swallow the pills, but he got them down after a couple of tries. A few mouthfuls of water spilled over his shirt.
    “Aren’t we going to help him have a bath, or a shower?” asked the Student. “He was wearing these clothes the other day. They smell like they haven’t been washed.”
    “We need to be finished in fifteen minutes, if possible. Someone else will be in to help him wash, I think. The vacuum is under the stairs. Grab it and give the carpet a once over. I’ll put his dinner on.”
    The Student went back into the hallway. There was a cupboard under the stairs. She retrieved the vacuum cleaner form inside, then glanced upstairs. It was blacked out, as if the curtains were all drawn closed. She went into the living room and vacuumed the carpet. The TV and the cabinet needed dusting, but she couldn’t find a duster or polish. She went into the kitchen. The Carer had put a plastic tray of curry and rice into the microwave, which hummed and glowed.
    “Is there a cloth, and some polish?” asked the Student. “This place needs dusting.”
    “Have a look under the sink. We don’t have much time.”
    The Carer took the curry and rice out of the microwave, and dumped it onto a plate. She took it into the living room and started spooning it into Corey’s mouth. The Student searched the kitchen for polish and a cloth. She found a dozen baked bean tins in the cupboards, and a loaf of bread. The fridge had some milk and margarine in it. The freezer was full of microwave curries and shepherd’s pies. On the front of the fridge there was a photo of Corey, looking a little younger than he did now, with an smiling elderly couple.
    She went back into the living room. The Carer finished feeding Corey. She made some notes on the paperwork, then put it back in the cabinet. The Student took the plate and spoon into the kitchen and washed up.
    “We’ll be back on Thursday Corey,” said the Carer. “We’ll do your shopping for you then, okay.”
    They left, and got back into the Carer’s car.
    “Most days we have to be that fast with almost everyone,” she said, starting up the car and pulling off.
    “Does anyone ever cook him something properly?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “He looks thinner than he does in the photo. You know the one on the fridge?”
    “He’s doing fine. He doesn’t need to eat much because he can’t walk very far by himself. In fact, I’ve known him for a year or so, ever since he moved into that house, and he’s stopped walking pretty much altogether. He could manage a few steps when he moved in, at first. Nowadays he needs to be pushed anywhere that he goes.” The Carer rolled the window down and lit a cigarette. She had finished smoking it by the time they arrived at the next house, and the next client.

    The Student locked the front door behind her. She kicked off her shoes, dumped her rucksack on the floor, and hung her coat up. She called out a greeting, and received one back. She walked through into the lounge, and sat down on the sofa, beside a middle-aged woman.
    “How was it today?” asked the woman. “Any better? Will you be in a better mood tonight?”
    “I’m not happy doing it.”
    “What happened today?”
    “We have to rush through every single visit. It feels like I’m not doing anything good. I don’t think I’ll ever enjoy doing the job, and even when I qualify I’ll only be on minimum wage.”
    “You knew that before you started. You said you didn’t mind.”
    “I thought I’d like it, but it’s just shit. And we need more, otherwise the worry will kill us. I’ve got no savings, nothing.”
    “We’ll be alright, love. Don’t worry.”
    “I want a car, you know. And I want to be able to keep the heating on in the winter.”
    “Just stick at it for now, then when you think of what you really want to do, you can go for it. You can do whatever you want. You just need to keep your chin up while you’re waiting.”
    “Thanks. What do you want for tea?”
    “Can you do spaghetti bolognese? Like you did the other night? With the chillies?”
    “I’ll see what we have in the fridge. I think we’re out of bell peppers, but I think there are some jalapeños. It’ll be a bit different, but I can make it spicy.”
    “Take me into the kitchen with you, and I can help.”
    The Student pulled a wheelchair out from behind the door and unfolded it. She lifted the woman onto the wheelchair and pushed her into the kitchen. She got out a packet of spaghetti, and a tin of chopped tomatoes. She gave the woman some vegetables to chop.
    “Why don’t you become a chef or something?” asked the woman.
    “Maybe I will. I don’t know yet.”
    They cooked the spaghetti Bolognese, and took it through to the lounge. It had gotten dark outside so they drew the curtains. They sat on the sofa, eating the dinner and watching a planet competition on the TV. Once she had finished eating, the Student took out her phone. She began searching for vacancies.

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