I got up early the following morningfilled with conviction. I just hope the old bat recognises me or this will haveall been for nothing. I have never been one to concern myself with clothing butwith an extra spring in my step, I find myself perusing through my wardrobeconsidering what would be just the right outfit for today’s tete-a-tete.
OK I admit it, I have let things go aroundhere. The croft is dilapidated at best. It is only just ticking over withgovernment grant money but it’s an impossible job to sustain it with only me,myself & I. I had no option but to sell off some of the livestock to raisecash. All that I’m left with now are a handful of sheep, a highland cow, andsome chickens. Things are grim and if I’m honest selling up is going to be theonly option (that is if I can find a buyer).
Never mind, not to worry, let’s focus ontoday. I have already phoned ahead and notified them of my intention to visit.I spoke with Beatrice. What a nosy cow that one is! “Oh, this is quiteunexpected, Mr Taylor, it’s been quite a number of years since we last saw you.In fact, if my memory serves me correctly was it not when Mary first came tous?” What’s it got to do with her? I’m so tempted to give her a piece of mymind, but I rein it in when I realise in doing so she might refuse my visit. “Oh I know but my schedule is so busy, Beatrice. I’m running the croftsinglehandedly.” “Quite, Mr Taylor, well that can’t be easy. Of course you cancome and visit Mary. I’m sure she’ll be glad of a visitor. The visiting hoursare 10–12 a.m. and 2–4 p.m.” “I’ll be there tomorrow at 10, thanks” and withthat I hang up.
Sunny Days Care Homeis located in Portree, some 20 miles from Dunvegan. So, I have a half hour orso drive to ponder what I’m going to say to her when I see her … I pull upoutside and feel my heart flutter. This is truly an alien feeling as I realiseit’s a feeling of excitement, something I’ve not experienced for a very longtime. As I recall, it is the same feeling I used to get many moons ago when Itook great satisfaction in rattling Mary’s fragile cage. Oh, it feels good tobe back in the saddle! And the fact that the outcome of this visit is going toresult in an upset Thomas, well that is simply the icing on the cake!
I find the staff room/reception close tothe entrance and a young blond thing bearing the name Cindy greets me. Shedoesn’t look the full shilling, but I’d definitely give that one a good seeingto! I sign my name in the register and she leads me down the corridor. She isincessantly chatting about Mary’s welfare, how she slept last night and whatshe’s had for breakfast – as if I’m remotely interested. “Oh yes, wonderful,” Ihear myself saying, playing along. I change my mind; this one would have to begagged if I were to go anywhere near her.
We round a corner and reach ourdestination. Room 14. Cindy tells me she’ll go in first ahead of me to checkthat Mary is OK to receive a visitor. I hear her tell Mary she has a visitor,but she doesn’t mention my name. That’s good, there’s no way she’d agree to thevisit if she knew who was standing behind the door. I feel myself giddy withanticipation. Ooh her face when she sees me! It’s almost too much to bear! Iremind myself however of why she’s in here and the fact she might not recogniseme. The lovely Beatrice reminded me of this yesterday too. “Now don’t getupset, Mr Taylor, if she doesn’t recognise you, she has good days and bad.”
I needn’t have worried … As I rounded herchair to move to face her, I stood before her and my only regret is not havingphotographic evidence to capture the look of pure horror which stole its wayacross her face. No matter, I’ll take a mental image and store this away in mymind so I can always recall it and recapture the feelings I have now as I standbefore her. It all comes rushing back to me in waves. Oh, what I put this womanthrough! I knew it was wrong (well a small voice in my head told me that and itwas easily silenced) but oh how good it felt!
There doesn’t need to be any words spokenyet. We take each other in, lost in our own thoughts. Her, transported back tothe times of the croft in her own personal hell and me Lord and master rulingover my domain and this pathetic excuse for a wife. Seeing her sitting thereslumped in an oversized chair locked away in a care home because she’s losingher marbles somehow made her seem even more pathetic. Why didn’t I do thisyears ago? Well thank you George for making contact, you really have made myyear, old chap. This visit wouldn’t have taken place had you not phoned me.
She doesn’t utter a word, I didn’t expecther to, I had her very well trained. To be honest, back in the day she wasbetter trained than our old sheepdog Jess and Jess was higher up in the peckingorder. Yes, Mary knew her place and that was at the bottom rung of the ladder.I could sit down in the chair opposite which the delightful Cindy has clearlyleft out for me, but I choose to stand so I can tower over the wrench, assumingmy position of power and authority.
“Mary, look at me,woman,” I start, my voice menacing but I keep the tone low, so we don’t getdisturbed. “How have you been, sweetheart?” I revel in the brief
