A Shenanigans Tale: War, Tape and Tinsel, Page 2

  Chapter Three

  As luck would have it the bus company had two buses for hire. James had called Cheryl the night before to explain the situation and, although she was slightly disappointed, she understood.

  The plan was for the bus to leave at ten in the morning which caused much panic amongst the carers because their lists extended beyond that time and most of the residents were going. Yet despite their fretting they had all rallied round and got the job done. Even Pippa, the new care co-ordinator, mucked in.

  It was 10 am and everyone was waiting impatiently at the main entrance. To James’ dismay, Sasha had volunteered. For the past year he had desperately tried to be more positive and understanding, for who was he to judge, but he could not stomach Sasha - not one bit. Her shoulder length blue dyed hair, boyish features and fake smile were enough to make his guts congeal. She wore her usual sneer which was evident to him but, as always, not to anybody else. Anyone who had studied professional face-reading – as he had done - would back away and hide but people were blind to her and, to James’ despair, she was being given more and more powers, helping out here and there, which made the workload easier on the management and made her the golden girl. But Sasha, James knew, did nothing to be helpful but to only gain recognition from the hierarchy and power over her fellow colleagues.

  James took a deep breath. He would not let her get to him. His life was getting better every day. He was in love, work was good except for HER and he hoped that before long he may be able to move down with his girlfriend in Devon. Carers, after all were, needed everywhere - not just the small town of Kesgrave.

  Paul came down the stairs with Rose the court manager and, with the help of Sasha and James they helped everyone onto the buses. James was set to drive the second and Paul the first but Rose had offered to take the helm from James, which he did not mind at all. He did not fear driving the bus but felt he could enjoy the whole experience more without the responsibility of fifteen residents who were all strapped in and fidgeting with anticipation. There was no conversation though. The competiveness had become so bad that no one trusted each other and believed if they even spoke to one person it would jeopardise their chances of being victorious.

  Pauline was the worst. She was a very large woman with a pale face and had a thin grey perm. To add to the ghostly effect she always wore white makeup and bright red lipstick. On the back of her bulky wheelchair sat her oxygen tank which she often needed throughout the day.

  Rose started the engine, the sun shining through the front windscreen on her black hair and they set off. The garden centre that Paul had arranged to visit had very kindly offered a discounted tea, which included a warm beverage, a sandwich and a piece of cake for just four pounds. In James view it was still pretty steep for his shallow pockets but compared to the garden centre’s retail prices it was a bargain! Their destination was not too far away and would only take about twenty minutes in the bus to travel but it was interesting to watch as the nearer they got the more fidgety the residents became. He could almost hear the words in his head being cried out ‘On your marks, get set…’

  Finally they arrived. Rose, Paul, Sasha and James got out and met beside the bus to discuss their next course of action.

  Paul looked at James and Sasha in turn, ‘If you two start to unstrap them while me and Rose get the lifts in place for the wheelchairs then things should move quite quickly.’

  Unsurprisingly, James wasn’t too keen on this idea, ‘I think you better get the lifts ready and then unstrap them one at a time.’

  His three colleagues looked at him questionably as if he had suddenly gone mad. James noticed Sasha suddenly looking hopeful. ‘Silly cow is hoping I’ll screw up, well you watch me,’ he thought.

  ‘What makes you say that?’ Rose offered kindly with an expression that suggested she was offering James a lifeline. But naturally he refused it.

  ‘Have you not seen them? They are ready to literally leap out; they want the best stuff first. If we unstrap them they are going to make a dash for it.’

  Paul laughed, ‘There is not one in those buses under the age of eighty, James. I don’t think they are capable to storm out of the bus.’

  ‘You didn’t think they were capable of such rivalry in the first place,’ he protested, ‘And look where that got me, coming in on my holiday to help you?’

  There was a moment of shocked silence. Even James was surprised by his sudden outburst. Quite often he would think these things but not say them out loud. Then again, he could now be on his way to see his darling Cheryl; instead he was standing here being looked at as if he were a fool.

  Finally, Rose broke the silence, ‘No, you two unstrap them and Paul and I will do the lifts,’ and she turned to get on with the task in hand. Paul followed, leaving Sasha standing there looking on smugly at James. But this time James just lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders in surrender and went on to do as he was asked.

  Everyone was unstrapped. Because of her size, Paul had decided that Pauline should be the one helped out of the bus first. With James’ help, they got her onto the lift at the back of the bus and clamped her into place. James suddenly felt uncomfortable. The others behind him, he could sense, were starting to move and Pauline was only now starting to be brought down. Down and down she went, painfully slowly. Still a foot away from the ground her hand went to the controls on her wheelchair and she switched it on. Abruptly, she pushed the control forward and her wheels suddenly began to turn ferociously against the clamps. The friction building such intensity the tyres on her chair began to smoke.

  ‘Turn your chair off!’ Paul ordered coughing through the thick plumes that engulfed him, but Pauline completely ignored the activities coordinator, her face a mask of untouchable determination. Without warning and still some way off the ground, she shot off the back of the bus, travelled half a metre and landed with a thud onto the garden centres tarmacked car park; she lost control only for a second before racing towards the automatic entrance doors. Then, just as Paul was recovering himself, waving his hands in an attempt to redistribute the smoke away from his face and eyes, Bessie, who was ninety-five, leapt off in pursuit shouting, ‘Oh no you don’t!’ before landing painfully. It was clear she was hurt but despite the pain she continued determinedly. The others then followed, all charging out of the bus, handbags flying. James was hit in the face three times while Paul just watched on in stunned silence. They both turned to look at the other bus and it was clear to them by the stampede of bodies that Rose and Sasha had experienced a similar situation. The only person left on the bus was Marge, who just sat there with her head in her hand, ‘I suppose I’m going to be left with all the crap stuff then?’

  James looked at Paul and said, ‘You get Marge, I’ll go in and see what’s going on,’ and he left the activities coordinator looking dumbfounded.

  Inside, James watched in horror as the residents barged their way round the shop. Pauline and Bessie appeared to have joined forces. Both were going round together armed with large trollies and throwing everything they could into the caged depths, pinging and clanging as the objects hit the metal.

  Suddenly James’ feet were swept from under him and he fell back, smashing his head on the hard floor. As he laid there he saw, blearily in the distance, Joan racing ahead in her electric wheelchair, nearly turning over a table heaped with ornaments as she passed. James got up slowly. The fall had taken his breath away and he still felt winded. Allowing time for his vision to clear again he looked back at Pauline and Bessie whose trollies were already nearly full. ‘They might as well just stick their arms out and let it all fall in as they pass’, he thought to himself.

  The Garden Centre was huge and set out like a labyrinth, each part dedicated to a particular Christmas colour. Pauline and Bessie were in the red section. Tables were also dotted all over the place covered in beautiful ornaments and other giftware.

  He turned to find Paul and Rose wheeling Marge and Phoebe, Sasha
was following behind looking less than pleased. Rose smiled at him and said ‘Don’t say it…’

  ‘I told you so,’ he replied, noticing the look of distaste now on Sasha face. James ignored her.

  ‘You OK?’ enquired the manager.

  James rubbed his head, ‘Not really, Joan came racing in and knocked me arse over tit,’ he said bitterly.

  Rose and Paul laughed.

  ‘Look at them,’ Paul said, appearing to have resigned himself to the situation, ‘I’ve never seen them like this. Usually it’s a job to get them motivated; now we’ve got to calm them down.’

  ‘I’d leave them,’ said Rose. ‘Let’s go and get a trolley and take Marge and Phoebe round. James did you want to look around?’

  ‘I’d better. Aggie said she wasn’t interested in doing up her door but I hadn’t told her about it on her introduction back so I kind of feel bad.’

  ‘If Aggie wanted to do something she would do it,’ Rose replied.

  ‘Ah Hello,’ said a voice. ‘Is anyone actually going to take me round or are we just something for you to bloody lean on,’ protested Marge.

  Rose looked at James with a mocked ‘woops’ expression as she began to move Marge forward. Paul laughed and followed, leaving Sasha to follow behind now looking really sour. Again, James ignored her and went ahead himself to search for anything that he could put together for Aggie. It wouldn’t be much but at least she would be a part of the competition nonetheless.