A bedside confession

‘Can you keep a secret?’

Melanie’s eyes sparkled with mischief and she tapped the bed next to her, challenging her visitor to sit down.

Val accepted, and pulled up a chair. She’d brought her usual pack of biscuits and after opening them, offered the old lady the first one, knowing it would be declined and she’d get to eat the whole pack herself.

‘Of course I can keep a secret.’ Val chuckled and shoved a digestive biscuit into her mouth. She went on, spraying crumbs as she spoke – ‘You’d better make it quick though, I’ve not got long. Although, don’t you think I know all your secrets by now? You aren’t going to tell me about the time you got flashed by the dodgy guy in the office are you?’

Melanie had indeed told that story many many times and with each telling, had fed, nurtured and decorated it, so it had grown so much, even she had forgotten the original event.

‘No dear, not that one.’ Her voice was quieter these days. It had been the soul of countless rooms throughout her life and her shrieks of laughter at her own stories were often more greatly anticipated than the punchlines themselves.

Val was certainly used to being regaled by Melanie during her visits but had noticed the tales of lavish frivolity were gradually being replaced with more melancholy contemplation, and that Melanie’s mind seemed more and more rooted in the past, not the present.

‘Let’s hear it then, what’s the big secret?’

The storyteller fixed her grey eyes on her captive audience.

‘You know you’re my favourite don’t you? I’ve always liked you the most dear. You’re not like the rest of the family, greedy and selfish. I know I can trust you. I can trust you, can’t I?’

It was rhetorical, Melanie left no space to answer.

‘I was married to your Grandfather for 40 years and it was not a good marriage. He had an awful temper and, you know dear, he spent all our money?’

Val nodded. She did know of course. It was no secret that Melanie had struggled over the years and that it was because of her husband’s bad investments.

‘Well dear,’ she continued, ‘he ended up owing a lot of money to one man who made him do all sorts of bad jobs for him till he’d paid his debt back. It was a hell of a lot of money and Mike would be gone for weeks at a time. When he came home, he was sulky and private. He’d walk around the house with that face of his, all curled up and angry. I don’t mind telling you, it was a face I could have smacked. I didn’t like it one little bit. He wasn’t even sorry that we couldn’t pay the bills.’

Melanie would often lament over her years with Michael and how she wished her life could have been different. This really was nothing new.

Val held Melanie’s intense gaze but surreptitiously began folding the biscuit packet up in her lap in preparation to leave.

The old lady placed her delicate and paper-thinly wrapped hand on her companions’ and spoke again.

‘I killed him you know? Mike. Yes, that got your attention didn’t it? ‘

She was right, it had got Val’s attention but she knew Mel had a flare for drama and obviously Mike hadn’t been murdered. He’d left years ago. Moved in with some other woman up North.

‘Sure you did.’ Val replied. ‘I bet you thought about killing him every day, he was awful, but you remember he left you. He’s not dead.’

Melanie laughed. Loudly. The change in tone was startling. She found a strength in her voice and continued.

‘Yes dear. I definitely killed him. I hit him over the head with a teapot. He’d come home early one morning while I was getting ready for work, after being away for a few weeks. He was gloating he’d made some money and I wasn’t going to get any and he was making me late for work. I was making tea and he was in the bathroom. I just picked up the teapot, walked into the bathroom and puff, I hit him, right on the back of the head while he was peeing. What a mess. Pee everywhere dear.’

Val said nothing. She was still sure that this was not true but was nevertheless unnerved by the sudden change of tone to the story. She certainly wasn’t going to leave yet and her silence was the invitation for Mel to keep going.

‘It took much longer than I thought it would, to get rid of his body. But I did. I had to keep some parts of him though. They’re all around the house. I told everyone he’d left me and moved away and no one ever questioned it because the people he worked for didn’t know where he lived. Anyway, while I was cleaning up I found the details to his bank account in a little black book in his jeans pocket. Well it turns out there was quite a lot of money in there. 20,000 pounds actually! And so, I kept it. I’ve had it all these years. I didn’t really know what to do with it so I popped it in a high interest account and left it there. It grew so much and I was afraid to spend it in case it drew attention. So, dear, I’m leaving it all to you. My favourite grandchild. You can find the black book with the account details in the vase by the front door my dear. What do you think of that?’

The old lady laid back in her bed, satisfied her story had been told and seemingly not in need of a response. She was tired but content and her eyes, now heavy, drooped to a close.

The doorbell rang and Val went to answer. Her shift wasn’t over for another hour but sometimes, Brian arrived early and they chatted in the kitchen while the old lady slept.

‘How’s she been?’ Brian asked. ‘I still can’t believe none of her family ever visit her. Any good stories today?’

‘Oh nothing new. You know Mel, talking nonsense mostly.’

Val put her coat on over her uniform. She scanned the shelf by the door, noticed a dusty, plain, white vase and put her hand inside and pulled out a small, and unremarkable little black book. She dropped it straight into her pocket. Brian's eyes followed the book from vase to pocket and started to speak but Mel pre-empted him.

‘Mel’s shopping list.’ She told her colleague.

He seemed satisfied with the answer. ‘Cuppa tea before you go?’

‘You know what Brian, I’ll have to skip the catch up today. Something’s come up. Catch you next time....’

Val pulled the door closed behind her and before it clicked shut, shouted back to Brian. 'Maybe!'