Arthur's Story

   “ Come on Dad...we'll be late!”

   He emerged wearing a soft beige jacket with his small blue suitcase clutched in his wrinkly hand. His eyes were full of apprehension, their soft pale blue hue were fixed on her. She could tell that he did not want to go and leave them.

   He cleared his throat in an anxious way and, with hands shaking, he wiped his large red nose in a maroon checked handkerchief that he had pulled out of his breast pocket. Her heart went out to him, but she knew that it had to be done and that he would make lots of new friends. That was the only way that she could console herself and stop her from marching him back to his favourite tweed chair placed lovingly in front of the roaring fire, where he'd sit for hours reading a newspaper, listening to the cricket on the radio or doing the Times crossword.

   With a lump in her throat and tears pricking her eyes she walked towards him and lovingly put her arms around him, embracing him as she had always done in the past. Feeling like his little girl once more, she knew that now she must be the adult and take charge. She felt uncomfortable wearing those shoes, as she knew that her Dad wouldn't really like it – he had made the decisions. But his needs now had to be catered for; “ he was going to a place where nurses were there to help him properly,” she kept telling herself, “ much better than we can now.”

   Her heart sank further with every minute that passed. The loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall reminded her of the time and the fact that if they did not make haste, then they would be late – something that she could not abide.

   “ Have you got everything?” Annette's voice cracked a little as she spoke. “ Why had it suddenly come to this?” she thought.

   “ Only my suitcase, my Dear.” he said, patting it with his large free hand. She could tell that he was struggling in trying to hide his emotions, he would have felt very embarrassed had he known that she could tell.

   “ Have you got the clean handkerchief that I pressed for you, and your tablets? You couldn't go without taking them now, could you?” Her tone of voice was like a parent talking to her young child. She bend over him and straightened his tie and flattened the right hand side of his collar that had been pointing towards the ceiling. He smelt of Pears's Soap and talcum powder. On his chin he had a piece of tissue stuck to where he had cut himself whilst shaving. She ripped the tissue away in one swift motion, like a plaster that had adhered securely to the skin. Arthur winced and with eyes watering pulled out his handkerchief once more, dabbing his eyes and blowing his nose again.

   “ Well then...” Arthur said, saying the words but not really using them with conviction, “ we'd best be off then, I...I don't wish to make us late. I know how you hate that.” His voice sounded resigned to the fact that he was leaving.