A BURIED BODY 8

Arnold and his lover visit his dad in hospital

“Do you fancy coming in to see him?” asked Arnold of Lucy, because the two of them had arrived at Brumpton General Hospital and he wanted to see that his father was alright after apparently suffering night in the open..

“It’s all right. I’ve been with you to see him remember, so knows me,” replied Lucy.

“If he always knows who you are you’re doing well,” grinned Arnold, “because the truth is, he usually thinks I’m the butcher or the milkman and when I tell him I’m not he frowns and looks confused, yet he’s known me since I was a few days old. He brought me up, for goodness sake, with the help of mum!”

“They say it’s not uncommon for an older person to forget people and get confused over nothing,” sighed Lucy, “come on, Arnold, let’s make sure he’s all right. Spending a night in an open grave can’t have been fun for him.”

“If he knew that’s were he was,” muttered Arnold.

A nurse with golden pigtails and a comforting smile showed them the way to the small ward where Adam Bingley had been tucked into a bed after having been examined by a doctor who concluded that at least one day and night under observation should be all he required for him make a full recovery.

There were four beds in the ward and one of them was unoccupied whilst Adam was seemingly fast asleep in one of the others.

Arnold stood by his father and Lucy was shocked to notice a few tears beginning to trickle down his cheeks. Obviosky the love of her life was deeply upset by the way the man he had always called his dad had deteriorated over recent months.

“It’s all right, you sleep, dad, as long as I know you’re alive and kicking,” he whispered, and even though his voice was quiet the old man must have caught the gist of it because his eyes wearily flickered open and then closed again.

“Where were you, son?” he asked, “I forgot my keys, and someone had broken in and opened the old shed…”

“It’s alright, dad, we’re seen to it,” Arnold tried to reassure his father, a man who had been everything he didn’t seen to be any more, and he added “This is my girfriend Lucy. You know Lucy don’t you, dad?”

“Ah, a pretty lady…” sighed the old man, “I have memories of the wonder her when she was my Mary! In the village hall, you remember, love? Jiving to the hythms of… what was his name? The bloke whose old man was a dustman of all things? And you, Mary, your skirts swirling so I could see your knickers and you said well, so what, they’re clean!”

“It wasn’t Lucy, dad it was mum. Mary was her name, and we went to her funeral when she passed away on her birthday..” almost wept Arnold, “and the music these days is not so good and the skirts don’t swirl as well…”

“So Marley said…” sighed his father, “when he called. We had a plan, a cunning and scary plan, Marley and me… to meet and dance at the old house just like the old days. He was going to bring his Ruth if he could find her, she went away, you know, far away to another country, she even needed a passport, and old Marley was broken by it. Quite broken.”

“How are you feeling now, sir?” asked Lucy.

“Ah, a nurse!” exclaimed Adam Bingley, Don’t worry my dear, I’m going home tomorrow when my head stops throbbing! Then Marley will come to my little room and tell me stories of long ago and far away, and I’ll tell Mary about him and his stories when she comes to bring my tea.”

“You said you made a cunning plan, you and Marley?” prompted Arnold.

“Ah yes! He was going to go for a walk, and take Caesar with him, and tell Caeser to keep quiet, not to bark because when he turns it on that dog has one hell of a loud bark. Marley says he waked the neighbours up!”

“So Marley was going to a walk?” prompted Lucy, “with his dog called Caesar?”

“But you could have told me that Caesar was dead?” the old man suddenly shouted, and struggled to sit up in his bed.

“Shush you senile old f****t!” shouted a man from one of the other beds.

“We’re sorry,” said Arnold quietly, to the ward in general, “My father’s excited. Dad, the man over there needs to get some sleep ao you must try to be quiet!”

“We’d best leave you and come back another time,” suggested Lucy.

Adam Bingley tried to sit up in his bed, but ended up collapsing back with a gentle crash.“But Caesar’s dead…” he told them, “that’s what broke Marley’s heart, and we said we’d meet up that very night in the garden of my old house. You know that garden, son? You are my son, aren’t you and not that pale urchin he told me he was? Shaved, he was, shaved and pale.”

“Who was?” asked Arnold.

“What’s got to do with you?” demanded his dad, “asking all these questions, trying to catch me out? Just you go away, run off until I call the security chappie and tell him exactly who you are…”

“Who is he, sir?” asked Lucy.

“The milkman, that’s who he is, the darned milkman who always forgets my single cream! That’s who he is!” And then he raised his voice and called for the police in quavering tones.

“Come on, Lucy, he’s in another world,” prompted Arnold.

“Okay, but he’s answered one question at least,” she told him as he tried to bid farewell to a man he loved but who was clearly in a different place.

“We’ll come back soon, dad,” mumbled Arnold, part of him hoping that they wouldn’t because it was so painful to see the man he’d known all of his life behaving like this in hospital.

TO BE CONTINUED

© Peter Rogerson 04.10.24

xxx