One Perfect Day

TRIGGER WARNING: Terminal illness, murder, suicide.

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 ‘Oh Frank, I’m so sorry. It’s the cancer that keeps Elsa in bed some days.’ The Davidson house was on my afternoon round and I tried to explain this to the old gentleman about once a week.

‘Cancer?’

Sometimes he would cry, this was one of those times. Tears ran down the sides of his nose, he dabbed at them half-heartedly with a crumpled hanky.

‘Let me put the kettle on.’ He said with a shake of his head. ‘You know, if she has to go I want to go too. But I want one perfect day first. One perfect meal. A last supper.’

Frank lifted his glasses to wipe his eyes and pulled himself gracelessly to his feet. I followed his short strides into the kitchen and sat myself at the oval table while he found some mugs. I started organising pills for the next day, splitting them into their little plastic cells exactly as dictated by the care plan. One set for Frank, one set for Elsa.

‘It doesn’t seem right. Cancer. She’s so youthful! We still dance you know!’

‘I know you do. I caught you waltzing round the living room on Tuesday.’ I smiled.

‘Just one perfect day. That’s all I want for her.’ He scratched his neat white beard and sighed.

The doorbell rang.

‘I’ll get it Frank, you sort that cuppa.’

I wandered to the front door to find an Amazon delivery man holding out a package. I took it back to the kitchen.

‘It’s for Elsa.’

‘Oh! I’m sure she’s got a fancy man in the city!’ Frank laughed. ‘Why don’t you take it through to her and I’ll finish up here.’

Elsa was sitting up in bed. She looked a little pale, it wasn’t one of her better days. But she was managing a crossword and grinned when I pushed the door open.

‘Blue!’ she exclaimed. ‘Four down. Blue. Blank Blank S Blank U E.’

‘Oh I’ve never been any good at puzzles. Let’s have a look. I’ll do you a swap.’

Elsa handed me the crossword book and I handed her the parcel. She looked so frail wrapped up in her blankets.

‘You might have to help me open it. I bet it’s from Frank. Our nephew, Rob, taught him to shop online before his memory went wonky. He’s always telling me what amazing things you can find on the internet. He can still order things but sometimes when they arrive it’s a surprise to both of us now!’

I sat on the edge of the bed and helped her pull the cardboard zip tag along the side of the package. A box of sugared almonds appeared with a gift note;

‘For my Darling Elsa. Love from the only fancy man you’ll ever need. Your Frank xxx’

‘They’re my favourites you know. I love anything with almonds in. Bakewell tart, macaroons, biscuits. Anything.’ Said Elsa.

‘Have you tried amaretto?’

‘Oh, no. I don’t think I have, what’s amaretto?’

‘It’s an alcoholic drink made with almonds. Like liquid marzipan, really warms the throat.’

‘Sounds divine. I’ll drop some hints. Not so subtle ones! He doesn’t take much in the way of hints now, poor lamb. Though some days he is surprisingly lucid. He talks about the past mostly, remembers all sorts of details I’ve long forgotten. Apparently I once told him I’d rather die than have cancer treatment, but some days he seems to have forgotten I’m even sick.’

I handed her the box of sweets and the crossword book.

‘Risqué! Four down. Blue. R-I-S-Q-U-E. Risqué!’ she giggled and covered her mouth with her hands like a naughty schoolgirl.

Frank knocked on the bedroom door.

‘Are you ladies decent?’

‘Yes, yes, come in My Love. Thank you for these, they’re perfect but you’ll be making me fat!’ Elsa shook the box of almonds.

‘You’ll never get fat! Or old! You’re still twenty four in my eyes, a young slip of a girl!’ Frank brushed Elsa’s almost-white hair from her face with a tender hand.

‘Now, are you getting up for dinner?’

‘Oh yes, it’s Friday. Film night!’

Routine had become the best way to keep Frank anchored in the present and Friday night was always film night. The BBC had been showing old Agatha Christie movies and the couple both enjoyed them, when they could stay awake all the way through. I helped Elsa out of bed and settled her in a dressing gown on the couch before I retrieved the cups of tea and their TV dinners from the kitchen.

‘Which one is on?’ Asked Elsa, handing me the newspaper listings.

‘The Mirror Crack’d.’ I read, ‘Miss Marple.’

‘Yes, with Elizabeth Taylor!’ Said Frank. ‘If I remember it right.’

‘You do indeed. Good old Liz.’ Said Elsa. ‘I think it’s one with poison in it, now don’t you go getting any ideas.’ She wagged her finger at Frank and smiled. 

‘Well, I’m going to clean the kitchen and finish sorting your pills for tomorrow and then leave you both to it.’

. . .

A week passed and it was Friday film night again. More Agatha Christie was on the cards for later, only this time I didn’t know the story.

‘Ten Little Indians? Donald Pleasance? It’s a classic! Youth of today haven’t seen any of the good stuff.’

‘I’ll take your word for it Frank.’

‘Don’t take my word for it, look it up, I bet they have it on video at that Blockbuster shop.’

‘Blockbuster isn’t around anymore Dear, they watch all that stuff on the internet now.’ Said Elsa. ‘Rob was telling me the other day. They get it on a river or a stream or something.’

‘That’s right Elsa, we stream it.’ I was impressed she was so up to date. ‘You know you can get all the movies you want on the internet now. I bet Rob could set you up with Amazon Prime if you asked him.’

‘Amazing Prime?’ asked Elsa.

‘Amazon you deaf old bat.’ Said Frank with a kindly smile. ‘Amazon Prime. You know, where I do a lot of my shopping. Not all of it mind. I get your flowers from a proper florist don’t you know, and those cookies you like from that baker. Everywhere sells on the internet now. Didn’t know Amazon did Blockbuster though, that’s a new one on me, streams or not.’

It was nice to see Frank on good form. He’d had more good days than bad recently and so had Elsa. Maybe her new medication was helping them both. Frank stood up and gestured slyly to the kitchen door with a cheeky wink. I followed his playful instruction and left the room. He joined me a few moments later.

‘Now, listen.’ He whispered, not very quietly. ‘It’s Elsa’s birthday next Friday. I’ve double checked the calendar, I’m not very good with dates these days. Anyway, she says you told her about an almond drink and I’d like to get her some but she can’t remember what it was called and I don’t want drink delivered in a cardboard box, surely the bottle would break!’

‘Amaretto, it’s called amaretto.’

‘And it tastes like almonds?’

‘Yes, like marzipan.’

‘That sounds perfect.’ Frank rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a twenty pound note. ‘Will this be enough? Would you mind? Please?’

‘Of course I don’t mind, and yes that’s more than enough. I’ll bring it round tomorrow.’ He was getting better if he had managed to co-ordinate this.

‘How about you bring it on the big day? That way I won’t have to hide it. I’d probably forget where it was anyway.’

‘Of course I will. I can wrap it for you if you like.’ I just hoped he would still remember by next week.

. . .

Elsa’s birthday was lovely. Rob was at the house when I arrived, he’d taken them both out to the park and they were still laughing about a small boy being pushed into a fountain by his dog.

‘Soaking wet he was! Wet through!’ Said Frank. ‘I nearly split my sides.’

‘Oh you should have been there. The look on that little boy’s face.’ Elsa giggled.

‘Well, I’m glad everyone is in such high spirits.’ Said Rob, grabbing his coat. ‘But I’m afraid I have to go.’ He hugged his aunt and shook his uncle’s hand then turned to me. ‘Are you ok with these two loonies? I think Uncle Frank has got something special planned for dinner, he keeps talking about almonds?’

‘Oh yes, I think he has. Don’t worry, I’ll sort them out.’

Rob left and I headed to the kitchen with my bag. Frank followed me, still smirking over the small wet boy in the park.

‘I’ve got everything you asked for Frank. I’ll set up Elsa’s birthday dinner and then I’ll leave you to it. I’ll clean up in the morning when I drop round to sort breakfast. Susanna is on holiday remember, so you get me twice a day for a few days. I hope that’s alright?’

‘Oh yes, that’s grand.’

I opened my bag and handed Frank the wrapped bottle of amaretto and his change.

‘Are you sure you can manage it? It’s quite heavy.’

‘Maybe I’ll get her to open it now. She’ll love this, it’s perfect. Thank you.’

Elsa squealed with delight when she unwrapped the amaretto.

‘What a lovely colour it is, like amber.’ She said, throwing the paper towards the bin and missing. ‘I can’t get the top off though! Could you help me Dear?’

I twisted open the lid and Elsa took a deep sniff of the contents.

‘Oh the smell of it is enough to get me giddy! Best just have a small one with dinner. Is that what arrived in that secret package on Wednesday?’ Elsa looked at me. ‘He’s had something hidden under the sink half the week, thinks I haven’t noticed.’

‘No no, don’t you worry about that. Kate here picked up the amaretto for me.’

‘Oh that’s very kind Dear.’

‘No problem at all. I’ll pop it on the kitchen table for you to have when you’re ready.’

I put their roast chicken TV dinners (not my idea of a birthday treat but exactly what they wanted) in the oven and laid out the bakewell tart on the kitchen table. I cut it into slices for them and got their glasses, plates and cutlery ready.

By the time I’d hoovered, put the washing on, and sorted their medication, the TV dinners were cooked. I set them out on plates in the kitchen. Frank was faffing around rearranging the table, fiddling with the tart and sniffing the amaretto as I changed Elsa into a nightdress. When I walked her into the kitchen he was messing about with something under the sink but I didn’t like to ask, maybe it was another surprise.

‘Right then. I’m going to leave you to it. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Happy Birthday Elsa.’

‘Thank you!’

‘It’s been a perfect day, just perfect. And we’ll finish it off with a perfect meal thanks to you.’ Said Frank.

‘I’ll show myself out Frank, you enjoy your dinner with the birthday girl.’

I smiled broadly when I got home, pulled off my boots and felt my shoulders relax as I headed straight for the kitchen. The lovely old couple now sitting down for a birthday tea had inspired me to crack open my own bottle of amaretto and maybe even try some Agatha Christie. I checked the BBC TV listings, there it was, 8pm, Sparkling Cyanide. I settled down on the sofa ready to toast Frank and Elsa and their perfect day. The scent of my almond liqueur woke my senses. A shiver ran down my spine.

Oh God… He wouldn’t… would he?