There was a steel gate at the top with a locking mechanism designed to foil the infirm. Eventually I managed to open it without dropping my bulky package, and stepped onto a broad veranda. Clearly I hadn’t found the main entrance. After following the deck around the building for a while I came to a set of glass doors, through which I could make out elderly people seated in a lounge room. There was a keypad beside the doors and a sign that said RING BELL FOR ENTRY . I couldn’t see a bell.
Eventually a tiny grey-haired woman appeared through the glass and tapped in the entry code on the pad on her side. The door opened to a gust of Elvis Presley from a loudspeaker somewhere inside, and I said, ‘Thank you. I seem to be lost. I’m trying to find the manager.’
‘Mr Belmont?’ The woman was smartly dressed in a white blouse and dark suit, and I took her for a member of staff.
‘No, my name’s Ambler.’
‘No, I mean you’re looking for Mr Belmont, the manager?’
‘Oh.’ I wondered if I’d come to the wrong place. ‘No, Anna Green.’
The lady chuckled. ‘Ah, you mean our
activities
manager. Do you have an appointment?’
‘No. I’m, er, here to deliver something she’s expecting.’
‘Follow me.’
I stepped into the room, my eyes adjusting to a dimmer light. The old people, seated in a circle of assorted armchairs, seemed either asleep or deep in thought, and oblivious to both my arrival and Elvis’s ‘Heartbreak Hotel’. There was a doorway on the far side, but to reach it we had to cross the circle of vinyl floor, in the middle of which lay a large whiteblob of something wet. A very shrivelled old man was hunched forward in his chair staring at it, white dribble running down his chin.
‘Oh, Stanley!’ the lady said. ‘What have you done?’
Stanley didn’t respond. At that moment a woman in a green apron passed the door and my helper called out, ‘Maureen, Stanley’s done it again.’
‘That’ll be right.’ The woman swept in with a mop and set to work while we skirted the circle and made for the door.
‘I’ll take you to the library,’ my friend said. ‘I’m Rosalind, by the way.’
‘You work with Anna, do you, Rosalind?’
‘Not exactly.’ She gave another chuckle. ‘I’m seventy-nine—I’m one of the residents. But I do work with her in a way. I help her look after the library.’
‘And Anna’s in charge of activities, is she?’
‘Yes, she organises the bus outings and bingo and sing-alongs. She’s very efficient. I don’t know what we would do without her. Are you in the aged-care business, Mr Ambler?’
‘No, no. I’m a friend of hers. We were at university together.’
‘Really!’ She stopped and turned to examine me more closely, obviously intrigued. ‘How very interesting. Do you see a lot of each other?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve been abroad, and I’m just catching up with old friends.’
‘Ah. We love Anna dearly, but she is something of a mystery to us. We’d like to learn more. For instance, is it true she was a mountaineer?’
‘Yes, we used to go rock climbing together.’
‘Ah! The two of you?’ She gave me an eager glance.
‘A group of us.’
‘With a rather striking blonde girl?’
‘That’s right. How did you know that?’
‘She used to have a photograph on her desk. You weren’t in it, though.’
She was leading me through a confusing labyrinth of corridors in which every wall seemed to be painted a different colour and none of the furniture matched. In places we came across seated figures whose appearance shocked me, as if a Nazi doctor had administered some grotesque experimental poison that turned people into shrivelled wrecks. Naive of me, but I just hadn’t seen anything like this before. The Nazi doctor was Nature, of course, and the poison was old age and its crushing diseases. There was nothing like this in EverQuest. My guide must have noticed my reaction, because she smiled at me and said, ‘Don’t
Eventually a tiny grey-haired woman appeared through the glass and tapped in the entry code on the pad on her side. The door opened to a gust of Elvis Presley from a loudspeaker somewhere inside, and I said, ‘Thank you. I seem to be lost. I’m trying to find the manager.’
‘Mr Belmont?’ The woman was smartly dressed in a white blouse and dark suit, and I took her for a member of staff.
‘No, my name’s Ambler.’
‘No, I mean you’re looking for Mr Belmont, the manager?’
‘Oh.’ I wondered if I’d come to the wrong place. ‘No, Anna Green.’
The lady chuckled. ‘Ah, you mean our
activities
manager. Do you have an appointment?’
‘No. I’m, er, here to deliver something she’s expecting.’
‘Follow me.’
I stepped into the room, my eyes adjusting to a dimmer light. The old people, seated in a circle of assorted armchairs, seemed either asleep or deep in thought, and oblivious to both my arrival and Elvis’s ‘Heartbreak Hotel’. There was a doorway on the far side, but to reach it we had to cross the circle of vinyl floor, in the middle of which lay a large whiteblob of something wet. A very shrivelled old man was hunched forward in his chair staring at it, white dribble running down his chin.
‘Oh, Stanley!’ the lady said. ‘What have you done?’
Stanley didn’t respond. At that moment a woman in a green apron passed the door and my helper called out, ‘Maureen, Stanley’s done it again.’
‘That’ll be right.’ The woman swept in with a mop and set to work while we skirted the circle and made for the door.
‘I’ll take you to the library,’ my friend said. ‘I’m Rosalind, by the way.’
‘You work with Anna, do you, Rosalind?’
‘Not exactly.’ She gave another chuckle. ‘I’m seventy-nine—I’m one of the residents. But I do work with her in a way. I help her look after the library.’
‘And Anna’s in charge of activities, is she?’
‘Yes, she organises the bus outings and bingo and sing-alongs. She’s very efficient. I don’t know what we would do without her. Are you in the aged-care business, Mr Ambler?’
‘No, no. I’m a friend of hers. We were at university together.’
‘Really!’ She stopped and turned to examine me more closely, obviously intrigued. ‘How very interesting. Do you see a lot of each other?’
‘Not exactly. I’ve been abroad, and I’m just catching up with old friends.’
‘Ah. We love Anna dearly, but she is something of a mystery to us. We’d like to learn more. For instance, is it true she was a mountaineer?’
‘Yes, we used to go rock climbing together.’
‘Ah! The two of you?’ She gave me an eager glance.
‘A group of us.’
‘With a rather striking blonde girl?’
‘That’s right. How did you know that?’
‘She used to have a photograph on her desk. You weren’t in it, though.’
She was leading me through a confusing labyrinth of corridors in which every wall seemed to be painted a different colour and none of the furniture matched. In places we came across seated figures whose appearance shocked me, as if a Nazi doctor had administered some grotesque experimental poison that turned people into shrivelled wrecks. Naive of me, but I just hadn’t seen anything like this before. The Nazi doctor was Nature, of course, and the poison was old age and its crushing diseases. There was nothing like this in EverQuest. My guide must have noticed my reaction, because she smiled at me and said, ‘Don’t
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