Bridget liked them on the whole, the old people who had come to live out their days at Blue Waters. Blue Waters was aptly named as it commanded a great view of the sea. The place down the road was called Stella Maris, and the one across the road Sea Haven. Blue Waters had a bit more dignity about it though.
Bridget was very popular with the residents. She didn't dictate to them like some of the carers did. She didn't speak to them as if they were hard of hearing or demented. She never engaged in artificial banter, nor did she lower her voice in respect of their advancing age or pending demise. Bridget would admit to them when she had a hangover or had once again got involved with a man of dubious character. She was 28, keen boisterous and untidy. She brought life and zest into their bedrooms with their early morning tea and into the Recreational Room with their mid-morning snack.
Matron Helen Doyle observed Bridget with amused exasperation. She didn't do Blue Waters image any good with her tatty blue overall…yet it had probably got that way by her helping the old people in and out of their chairs and getting caught in their pins and walkers while doing so.
Her hair escaped from her cap because she was always running here and there, wherever she was needed. She spent little time in the staff room preening herself in front of the mirror. Bridget had comforted the dying. She had a natural assurance that made up for any shortfalls she might have had. She chatted with the visitors and had a tendency to wink mischievously at the young men that accompanied them.
Helen felt that Bridget's judgement in men left a lot to be desired; the latest one, a dark brooding character, who kept turning up at all hours disturbing the residents. But then Matron had not been a wise chooser of men. Her ex-husband left her for younger woman and somehow managed to gamble her out of house and home as well. Helen's Mother had warned her about marrying that "scoundrel". It was doubly annoying when she had been proved right. But then Mother never seemed to put a foot wrong. She even predicted the future.
'No sense in coming to live with me Helen,' Mother had said. "We"d be at each other's throat in a week. Get a loan and go into business yourself. You always had a good head on your shoulders before that man set about addling it.'
She had taken her mother's advice and invested her loan in Blue Waters, a run-down retirement home. Helen sighed; she was in no position to criticise young Bridget's choice in men. At least she hadn't married any of them. Bridget was going to spend her Christmas holiday with that dark brooding character called Jack. She had told them all about the cabin cruiser he had bought. Well…was going to buy, from a friend of his. They would be sailing up the coast a few days before Christmas. Everything was going to be fine, no fuss no bother.
And somebody had asked Bridget yesterday did it have a kitchen and she had frowned and said, "I think so, I suppose so, I don"t know.' Helen got the impression that Jack and the cruiser hadn't quite materialised. Anyway it wasn't her problem. Let them work it out for themselves.
There were 29 residents in Blue Waters. Twenty-five of them were going out for Christmas, four The Die Hards, would stay behind. Matron would manage these herself as she had done for the past three years. These were the disgruntled, the complainers the moaners. It was easy to see why no one wanted them to spoil their Christmas fun.
Twenty five people would be collected and driven to their children or grandchildren. They were people who would join in the activities and watch their grandchildren open their presents on Christmas day. They would sit by the lake and taste the delights of barbecued chicken and sample fine sherry from cute little glasses. They would have their photos taken and show them off when they returned from the festivities.
The Die Hards would sit resentful and unyielding, refusing to take part in any activities and finding fault with everything. Helen sighed. Christmas would be dull listening to the complaints of the Die Hards. But she had a duty to them. They paid to live here, it was their home. If they had nowhere else to go for Christmas she wasn't going to turf them out to other places like excess baggage. She couldn't say Blue Waters was closing so she could place them in Stella Maris or Sea Haven and retrieve them later. Christmas was a time of reflection and old memories seemed to surface more then than any other time of year. Matron was glad to be busy. It shut out memories of her husband and the legacy of unhappiness he had left behind.
