Isobel on the Way to the Corner Shop by Amy Witting Page A

‘Get her a face mask, will you? This her suitcase?’
    He picked up the case and walked out.
    ‘Charming,’ said Eric. ‘Maybe I’d better get him one too.’
    He patted Isobel’s arm, disappeared and returned with the face mask, put it on her and wheeled her out into the street where the ambulance was waiting.
    ‘Look after yourself, kid. Nice knowing you.’
    He lifted her into the front seat beside the driver.
    ‘Say goodbye to Bernie for me.’
    He handed in the duffle bag and the handbag. They held hands for a moment. He closed the door. The driver started the engine and they moved away.

II
MORNINGTON B GRADE
    Clearly the driver was not inclined to conversation. That was as well, for she was too exhausted to speak to him or to notice the scenery as they climbed into the mountains. She sat with her face turned away and saw the light fade and felt the air grow colder. The discomforts of her spell in the theatrette were returning: shudders ran down her body and her head was heavy.
    It was completely dark when they stopped at the lighted entrance to the building that bulked against the sky.
    The driver got down and was about to disappear.
    She said, ‘Will you help me down, please?’
    He walked to her side of the vehicle and extended an arm, which served as a rigid support while she climbed down. Resentment of his reluctance gave her strength enough to walk through the doorway into a vestibule where a woman sat at a large reception desk.
    The woman said sharply, ‘Are you Isobel Callaghan? We’d quite given you up. You have no business to be up and dressed. You’re supposed to be a stretcher case!’
    Behind Isobel the ambulance men were carrying a stretcher through the room and into a further doorway.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ said Isobel, who had been given no choice and felt very much like a stretcher case.
    ‘And all the wards have had their dinner now. You will have to go to the dining room.’
    Isobel did not know whether she should apologise for this, also. She stood at the desk while the second stretcher case was carried past behind her and said with desperation, ‘Please may I sit down?’
    ‘I’ll get a chair. It won’t be long. Sit over there for the moment while I find out what to do with you.’
    The ambulance driver carried in her suitcase and her duffle bag and set them down at the desk.
    The woman talked on the phone.
    ‘A Ward? Right. She’ll have to go to the dining room for dinner…Well, they’ll have to find her something…I don’t know.’ She covered the mouthpiece of the phone and said to Isobel, ‘Where are your night things?’
    ‘In the overnight bag.’
    ‘She has them separate in an overnight bag…Right. You can take that with you and leave the rest. We’ll see to it in the morning.’
    A chair meant a wheelchair. It arrived pushed by a very tall, redheaded young man who was greeted as Max.
    ‘You’re an hour or so late, mate.’
    ‘Take her round to the dining room and see what you can get for her, then down to A for the night. She’ll need that overnight bag for the moment. I’ll ring Sister Mackenzie to expect her.’
    Something in Isobel’s appearance had amused Max.
    As he helped her into the chair he said, ‘You can take that mask off now, kid. You’re among friends.’
    She clawed the mask off her face and dropped it into her lap, feeling foolish.
    He set the small bag on her knee. They set off again, through the inner doorway into a corridor.
    ‘How long have you known?’ asked Max as he wheeled her along to an open double doorway and through it into a dining room with small tables flanked by chairs of bright orange plastic.
    ‘About a week.’
    ‘Longest week of your life?’
    ‘So far, I suppose. Yes.’
    ‘Gives you a turn, doesn’t it?’
    Max left her wondering if he too…He was arguing at the hatch which led from this room with tables and chairs to what must be a kitchen.
    ‘He’ll have to find her something. Come on, have a heart. She came