The Pharmacist

Richard Edwards was stunned by the change in his patient, the assessor was correct and Alice was undoubtedly capable of making her own decisions. There was nothing more he could do, therefore, except to discharge her immediately.

He’d last seen Alice two days previously and noticed a significant improvement even then. She hadn’t insisted that her husband was alive and admitted to being confused about facts pertaining to her past, which was all very positive. This morning, Alice appeared even better, remarkably so. The only niggling concern Dr Edwards had in discharging her was that Rachel Roberts was away from home. She’d been ringing The Elms each day, and the nursing staff provided her with verbal updates on Alice’s condition, but he instinctively knew she wouldn’t be happy if they discharged her mother while she was away.

‘Mrs Roberts, don’t you think it would be prudent to wait until your daughter’s return before you go home? It’s only a few more days.’ Dr Edwards asked the question, guessing correctly what the answer would be.

‘There’s no way I’m staying here another night. Besides, why should I occupy a bed which a patient with a genuine need might need? I’m not old or infirm and therefore don’t need my daughter to look after me or give her permission to do anything. I have a home to go to, and I’m going today.’ She was emphatic but polite and there was nothing the doctor could do to stop her. She also had a point about the bed; there was a waiting list growing by the day.

‘Okay, I understand, but if you do feel at all unwell once you’re home, ring your GP or dial 111. It’s been a difficult time for you, and you could relapse, so please be aware.’

Richard Phillip’s initial diagnosis of dementia had always troubled him. The questions Alice asked during their times together demonstrated good cognitive thinking. Still, there was no doubt she was delusional in other ways, inventing a career which had never been, a grandchild who didn’t exist, and insisting her husband was still alive. Yet over the last few days, Alice hadn’t maintained these fantasies so vehemently, so perhaps her memory was returning to what it should be. The cause of her delusions still puzzled Dr Edwards. Something must have caused them, an infection maybe, but it was possible they might never find out. This morning, he admitted to himself, there appeared to be nothing wrong with her at all.

* * *

Alice took her suitcase from the wardrobe when the doctor left the room, threw it on the bed, and hurriedly filled it with her few possessions. Most of the clothes were not her own, but she packed them anyway. Insisting they didn’t belong to her might give them grounds to rethink their decision to discharge her, the last thing she wanted. Since stopping taking the medication, Alice had been cautious with every word she’d spoken and every little action. It was heartbreaking to tell the doctor she was confused about the details of her past and especially about Tom when she knew in her heart that he was alive, but the pretence was necessary to convince them to allow her to go home. At least when she was home, she could embark on her search for Tom and Millie.

‘So, you’re leaving us, are you?’ The gruff voice startled Alice, and she turned to find Mavis’s unwelcome presence, freshly returned from her holiday.

‘I am.’

‘Sister asked me to give you this.’ Mavis handed over an envelope. ‘It’s your discharge letter.’ Turning to leave the room, there was no offer of help or fond farewells, Mavis’s feelings for her charge clearly equalling those Alice felt for her.

* * *

Within the hour, Alice climbed eagerly into the back seat of a taxi while the receptionist at The Elms smiled and wished her well. A sense of relief washed over her at actually being on her way home, an event Alice had at times doubted would ever happen. Two full days stretched out before her until Rachel was due to return from her trip, two uninterrupted days to settle in, collect her thoughts and form some kind of plan.

The idea of being home was so very welcome, although simultaneously tinged with apprehension over what she might find out. But Alice needed to be home. It was the logical starting point for discovering precisely what was happening. Convinced there must be a rational explanation for Tom’s disappearance, and without the medication and being free from those who purported to be helping her, Alice could finally think clearly. But that same clarity elicited a feeling of being very much alone, as the task before her loomed large and daunting. For all of her plans over the last twenty-four hours, it was difficult to know where to begin and the depressing thought of having no one to turn to for help was almost overwhelming.

Peering from the taxi window, Alice realised how little she knew about Penrith and the surrounding area. The five-mile drive to Melkinthorpe took longer than she’d expected, and a sudden thought about paying the taxi driver popped into her mind. Her handbag contained very little cash, Rachel had seen to it that she had little of anything, not even a door key, but Alice hadn’t admitted that to the staff at The Elms. A key was hidden under a stone in the garden which she would use, and if there was insufficient money in her purse to pay the driver, she’d ask him to wait while she went inside to find more. These minor obstacles were the first of many Alice would need to overcome, but the facts were clear in her mind, Tom was missing and Rachel wasn’t to be trusted. Alice was very much on her own and would need all her determination to discover precisely what was going on.

Alice’s relief was almost tangible when she found the key in its hiding place, a simple matter which validated her recent actions and restored confidence that she wasn’t as batty as others thought. Thankfully there was also enough money in her purse to pay the driver, with a small tip and thanks for her freedom, which he would never fully understand.

As she entered the cottage for the first time in weeks (exactly how many weeks was still a little uncertain), a strange sensation washed over her, but her doubts and uncertainties were something else to keep to herself. Alice was fighting to restore the world’s perception of her and she wouldn’t readily admit to any weakness or lapse in memory from now on.

Alice’s initial reaction was to call out for Tom on walking through the front door, although she knew how futile that would be. It was an instinct, one of many she’d have to evaluate before acting upon. If Tom were there, he would most certainly have visited her at The Elms to bring her home.

The house felt hollow and cold, even though it was a beautiful warm summer’s day. Alice moved through the empty rooms, opening windows to allow the sunshine and the fresh gentle breeze inside her home. This moment was one she’d longed for but was unsure, or perhaps even a little afraid, of where to start.

Alice carried her small case to the bedroom, opened it and tipped its contents onto the floor. There was nothing she wanted to keep; the clothes belonged to other residents, and everything was impregnated with the smell of The Elms, a place she desperately wanted to forget. Her next action was to open Tom’s wardrobe. Alice stifled a sob and examined the contents which hung there in place of Tom’s clothes. Her winter attire, coats neatly covered with garment bags, hung where Tom’s should be and on his shelf were her woollens, gloves and scarves.

Turning to her own wardrobe, she was again disappointed. It was full of her own summer clothes. Alice’s heart rate increased as disappointment flooded through her.

Scanning the room and looking for anything else out of place, or anything belonging to Tom, Alice noticed his leather cuff link box on the top of the tallboy, and a faint spark of hope blossomed from her despair. She grabbed at it greedily, longing to find something of her husband’s, anything to bring comfort, but on opening the lid, instead of the assortment of cuff links it usually held, there was just one single item – Tom’s wedding ring.

‘No!’ Alice couldn’t process what this meant. Her mind didn’t want to think about it. Staggering to the bed, she slumped down upon it, the ring still clasped in her hand. Examining it closely in the hope that it was just a similar ring, the engraved inscription of their wedding date and their initials on the inside confirmed what she did not want to believe. The ring was Tom’s.

This distressing discovery only presented more questions. Tom never took the ring off, so why would he do so now? Her thoughts travelled back to that awful day when he’d gone missing – when her life turned into a complete mystification. The question she asked then popped back, unbidden into her mind, had Tom left her, perhaps even for another woman? Hot tears began to flow and Alice gave way to huge sobs of grief as she lay on the bed, alone and suddenly very afraid.