The Pharmacist

During her first couple of weeks back at home, things felt strange and unfamiliar to Alice. The cottage was still new to her, it was barely a couple of months since her relocation from Matlock, so that was understandable, but her senses were telling her that life wasn’t quite right, that something was off, something she couldn’t put her finger on. The feeling that Tom should be there with her was a constant and his presence at times seemed almost palpable. She knew which chair he would sit in and where his possessions should be stored, which was ridiculous as he’d never lived in this house with her.

Nor had Barney, but she still expected to hear his bark on occasions or the scuffling of his paws at the back door. Naturally, Alice admitted none of these notions to Rachel, who rang each morning before she left for work, a practice which annoyed Alice rather than comforted her. It was as if her daughter was monitoring her, waiting for something to go wrong so she could lock her away again.

Sarah visited and was becoming a valued friend. It was to her that Alice confided a few of these thoughts.

‘Perhaps you should revisit the doctor, your own GP. After all, you didn’t get a diagnosis of exactly what was wrong, did you?’ Alice knew that Sarah was right, but she wasn’t ready to see anyone from the medical profession again just yet. Her faith in the system had been somewhat battered.

‘I’ll give it a while and see how I go.’ Alice procrastinated, and Sarah was too kind to push the suggestion.

It was midweek when the first parcel arrived. The doorbell surprised Alice, being so early in the morning, and the young man on the doorstep asked for a signature while passing over a small package. She signed without thinking, took the box inside and turned it around a few times, examining it. As it was her address, Alice opened it. Inside was a cheap trinket box, made of resin masquerading as metal, with glass beads poorly glued into the lid, the sort of item she would never buy. A packing note was inside the wrapping, dispelling her initial thought that it might be a gift from someone as incorrect. It was from a television shopping channel and the note, a receipt bearing her name and address, was for a ridiculous amount of money for such a shoddy item. Alice looked for a return address. She would wrap it up and return it to the company it had come from, yet who could have sent it puzzled her.

* * *

Later that day, the doorbell rang again and this time, a taxi driver stood on the doorstep.

‘You ready?’ the man asked curtly, his vehicle engine still running.

Alice shook her head. ‘But… I didn’t order a taxi; you must have the wrong address.’

‘Nope.’ He looked at the number on the doorpost. ‘Fifteen it is.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, but there’s been a mistake, I didn’t order a taxi. I have a car and can drive myself.’ Alice closed the door as the taxi driver began a tirade she didn’t want to hear about time-wasters. Yet, the incident unnerved her. Was it a simple mix-up or would someone order the taxi as a joke? Perhaps if it hadn’t happened so close together as the unexplained parcel, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but it did seem strange to have two such incidents on the same day.

As part of Alice’s attempts to rebuild her life, she decided to contact her old friend, Brenda, and invite her to stay. Brenda had recently retired and might appreciate the time away as much as Alice would enjoy her company. She would send an email; the computer had remained idle since her return from The Elms and it was about time she reconnected with the outside world. So, with afternoon coffee beside her, Alice switched on the laptop and waited for it to spring to life. Technology wasn’t her thing. Tom was always the one to be up to date with electronics, loving all the latest gadgets, but she knew the basics and even kept a Facebook account. Admittedly, she rarely used it, unable to think of the snappy, witty posts with which the younger generation seemed so adept.

Alice went into her email account when the laptop was ready and was surprised to see that the inbox was empty. After so long offline, she’d at least expected a full spam box, but no, there was nothing. Attempting to bring up her email address book, again, there was nothing, no contacts at all. Perhaps she was doing something wrong. It was a while since she’d used it. Maybe it was best to leave it for now and ask Rachel to take a look when she next visited.

After finishing her coffee, Alice went to find her address book to ring Brenda instead. It would be lovely to hear her friend’s voice again. The address book was not in its usual place in the drawer and a feeling of panic swelled in Alice’s chest. Things were going wrong again; was it some kind of relapse? After searching in all the likely places that the book might be, she sat, willing herself to calm down, to breathe normally, determined that one or two minor issues were not going to unbalance her. She needed to think positively, make a plan and keep herself busy. The only other place housing Brenda’s number was on Alice’s mobile phone, but that too appeared to be missing since her return from The Elms.

Alice took herself off for a long walk, finishing up at the garden centre and treating herself to a pastry from their bakery for later. Arriving home, Rachel was on the doorstep.

‘Hello, I was just about to use my key. I didn’t know you were going out.’ Her daughter greeted her.

‘I just went for a walk, nowhere special, but come in. Will you stay for tea with me?’ Alice wished she’d bought two pastries.

‘Well, yes, that’s why I’m here. You invited me for a meal, don’t you remember?’ Rachel was scrutinising her mother, a frown on her face making Alice feel suddenly flustered.

‘Yes, of course, I remember. I just didn’t think you’d be so early.’ She lied, wondering what she could produce for a meal to make her daughter think the arrangement hadn’t slipped her mind. ‘Actually, I thought we could get some fish and chips for a change, would that be okay?’ Alice thought she’d covered her mistake quite well.

‘But the nearest fish and chip shop is miles away, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t have a lot of time. I need to be back for…’ Rachel paused mid-sentence, then reconsidered. ‘How about we just have a cup of tea now and we’ll do the meal another time?’ The compromise suited Alice. With no recollection of inviting her daughter and after the events of earlier in the day, it was all a little disconcerting. They went inside together.

‘While I make the tea, perhaps you could have a look at my laptop for me. I wanted to send an email, but I can’t seem to get into my address book.’

‘Fine, no problem.’ Rachel sat down and fired up the device.

When Alice came through to the lounge with the tea tray, her daughter was still frowning.

‘You don’t have any addresses saved on this.’ She looked blankly at her mother.

‘But I do! They must be somewhere else, in another folder or something?’

‘No, there’s nothing. You don’t have any files at all. The laptop appears to be just as it came from the manufacturers. Is it a new one? Did you buy it before you left Matlock?’

‘No, it’s the same one I’ve had for ages – surely there must be something on it. What about the photographs you sent me of…’ Alice stopped herself. A memory of Rachel sending Millie’s photograph flashed into her mind, but then she remembered that there was no Millie. It was all in her head, a figment of her imagination. Her daughter was still frowning, looking at her with concern.

‘Who did you want to send an email to?’ Rachel asked.

‘To Brenda, I thought I’d ask her to come and stay for a few days, but I can’t find my address book either, or I’d ring her.’

‘But Brenda’s gone to Australia for three months to visit her daughter, don’t you remember? She left about the same time you moved here. There’s no chance she’ll be home yet.’

‘Oh, right.’ Alice had no memory of this but again wasn’t going to admit it to Rachel. ‘Let’s have this tea before it gets cold, shall we?’

When Rachel left, Alice again searched for the address book. After exhausting every place it could conceivably be, she decided it must have gone missing during the move; these things happen. As for the laptop, there was little to be done for now, although she did seem to remember once hearing that nothing is ever really lost on a computer. Perhaps one of those repair shops would look at it for her to see if they could find her missing photographs and emails. Maybe they’d been deleted by accident, but there was no hurry if Brenda was in Australia. If her relationship with Rachel was closer, she might have asked her daughter to recommend a repair shop, but Alice was only just beginning to admit to being a little afraid of her. Perhaps it had always been that way. Looking back, most of her parenting of Rachel comprised of trying to please the child, to make her happy. Surely this wasn’t how it should be?