The Carers E-Book

alastair macleod

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2014

Beschreibung

Nunia talked this over with her father. He said that this was the most difficult test, to love where nothing is given back, when the subject makes themselves unlovable, rejecting even. "But should you expect something back?" said Nunia. "That's the usual system," he said, "reciprocation, a dance, a two-way relationship, we expect it. But," he said, "inside each person are two wells; one contains water to care for others, the other contains water to care for oneself. In each well the water level can vary. Some only have water in their own well; others have water filled to the brim in both. Some situations and some people can empty both your wells and leave you a husk." "You mean," said Nunia, "when you’ve got some old cranky person that's so critical, so demanding and clinging, you get switched off?" "Even the most caring person needs to keep water in their own well," said her father looking at his daughter. She was learning her limits.

Leseprobe

Alastair Macleod

The Carers

"What is it really like to be a carer?" said Fatima to her mother. BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

The Carers

     They sat in the car for a minute or two. They were early; it was 6:55 am, a summer’s day.

They were women at work.

It was some time now since Adjuka had put the children to school.  Her husband would do that. She missed those times.

Next to her, in the driver’s seat, Nunia, adjusting her headscarf. “Lebanon and Nigeria” – that’s what one old man had called them – “here come the carers, Lebanon and Nigeria, serious and fun.”

Nunia was a quiet and thoughtful, caring person; young, single, her first job in this country. She had not yet picked up the British cynicism but then neither had Adjuka. She, in contrast, was cheerful, full of banter, jokes, innuendo.

“Let’s go.” Together they left the car and crossed the driveway. At the door Adjuka rang the bell while Nunia took the key from the key safe in the wall. Mrs Wallington would still be in bed.

They entered. At first, when they were new, this entering had bothered both of them, Nunia especially.  In Lebanon, a house was an inner sanctum. To just enter, to key yourself in to a stranger’s house was not on.

For Adjuka it was different. People came and went freely in her home village in Nigeria, popping in to each other’s houses unannounced. Consequently she was more confident, moving ahead of Nunia calling out loudly,

“Good Morning Mrs Wallington, it’s us. We are here for your shower.”