Writing for Fun
October 2022
Breakout - Jan Norman
Sunnyside Residential Home for the elderly was never a happy place at the best of times but as the residents began to shuffle to their places in the dining room raised voices could be heard emanating from the kitchen.
‘Have to make cuts? Have to make cuts? Not like this we don’t.’ Cook sounded angry and bitter.
‘I’m afraid you have no say in the matter. I make the decisions. Now serve it up!’
Suddenly the swing doors from the kitchen were rammed open by the serving trolley. Cook, now beetroot red in the face and tight lipped thrust it in front of her like a weapon. Upon it were baskets of continental rolls and individual portions of jam, marmalade and butter. Gone was the usual fare of fruit juice, cereals, toast, marmalade and tinned fruit.
She unceremoniously plonked baskets of rolls and spreads on each table for six saying sarcastically as she did so, ‘Continental breakfast now, dearies, in case you’re wondering.’
Nervous young Adele followed dispensing the tea and coffee. This was only her second day as a carer and she wondered if she wanted to see a third.
Loud murmurs of confusion and dismay erupted.
‘What the dickens is this?’ Picking up one of the rolls Ron slammed it down several times on the table. Not a crack in sight. How the heck are we supposed to eat these? He threw it back into the basket in disgust.
Marjorie, who had been sawing away at hers, gave a sob when her knife bent. Always hysterical at the best of times she looked up when Matron came to their table and said, ‘Now what is all the fuss about; it’s a wonderful breakfast.’
‘You eat it then,’ declared Marjorie hurling it in the vague direction of Matron. More by luck than judgement her aim proved true and the hard roll struck Matron smack in the middle of her forehead.
‘Get to your room at once Marjorie; I’ll deal with you later,’ roared Matron; clapping her hand to her head.
Distraught, Marjorie jumped up knocking over her chair in her distress and crying loudly she hobbled as fast as she could towards the door.
Stunned silence ensued. Ernest who had so far taken no interest in the proceedings scrambled to his feet and gave the Nazi salute to the new Matron.
Now beside herself with fury she rounded on Ernest and banished him too.
Sarah, carer of many years, mused that she was possibly the only member of staff left, apart from Cook, to remember Ernest’s obsession with ‘The Great Escape’ film and his notorious escape from Sunnyside whilst under the delusion he was his hero Steve McQueen. She took his arm and gently led him out of the room towards the small parlour.
Will, trying to bite his roll coughed and both roll and false teeth hit his plate with a clatter. Giving a gummy grin he bowed to the by now apoplectic Matron and sauntered out of the room.
Tom, sitting next to him trying hard to suppress his mirth, broke wind. With this the tension dissipated and laughter erupted round the room. The finale came as a red faced Violet jerked and then, clutching at her skirt, make a dash for the ladies.
Matron with by now a large red mark on her forehead screamed invectives at them all. The wall of silence that followed made her curse heartily and beat a hasty retreat to her office.
Cook, now smiling in triumphant glee, gently rounded up the staff and bustled back to the kitchen to serve real breakfast!
Arm in arm Sarah guided poor Ernest into the back parlour. Years of service at Sunnyside had softened her attitude to the idiosyncrasies of the elderly and she now thought she understood their feelings of being ‘cabined, cribbed and confined’ with no say as to their fate.
She had railed at Ernest at the time for causing concern and mayhem with his escape attempt but did not agree with the decision of doctor and staff afterwards to then permanently sedate Ernest to make him more docile. Today, doped, he was but a shadow of himself as he shuffled obediently by her side.
‘Ernest you know I love working here and love you all but Matron has made it impossible for me to stay and I will be here only a few more days. In fact she is upsetting so many of the staff that a lot more have handed in their notice. I’m afraid you will see lots of new faces soon – all except Cook – she, as you know, has been here forever and no new upstart of a Matron will easily drive her out. I fear it will become a war of attrition between those two. Still, it’s not all bad; I have some good news; another guest, Bernie Briars, is to join us this morning. As you have the largest ground floor room he is to share it with you. As luck would have it he has the same great love of old war films as you have. Isn’t that good? I’m taking you to meet him now, but just so as you know he is often confused and has memory problems. He can remember the past but not the recent present so don’t be offended if he forgets your name; sometimes, I’m told, he even forgets his own!’
As it happened, both men took a shine to each other. Ernest saw Bernie as Colin Blythe, the forger in the Great Escape played by Donald Pleasance. He even resembled the screen character in looks: a quiet man with balding head and a myopic stare through thick bottle glass lenses.
The next morning, Matron, distracted by Cook’s continuing intransigence over menu changes, forgot Ernest’s ‘calming’ medicine. Flustered she sent the new Adele with the tablets. As she entered the room she saw only one man, Bernie, pacing agitatedly around the room. He felt confused and the change of environment had upset him. He answered to the name Ernest and dutifully swallowed the medicine.
As time passed Ernest grew more alert and energetic and Bernie more tranquil. Ernest, still delusional and seeing life deteriorate for all at Sunnyside decided he must plan a mass breakout from Stalag Luft III. He had to dig a tunnel.
Dragging his bedside table away from the wall he prised several old floorboards up with a screwdriver and started digging at the soil a foot below using an assortment of cutlery. Bernie, alias Colin, was sent to scrounge for useful articles and documents to alter whilst Ernest did the digging. Getting rid of the earth became a problem which rubber gloves and string solved; both stuffed rubber gloves with the dirt and dangled them down trouser legs with strings going to a convenient cut trouser pocket. Puzzled residents were often treated to the sight of either Bernie or Ernest walking on the lawns giggling, their hands in their trouser pockets and occasionally shaking a leg.
Matron, catching sight of Bernie acting this way on the lawns muttered, ‘Disgusting’ and made a mental note to find out if Bromide could still be added to tea.
She then started to first accuse staff then residents as more and more articles disappeared: cutlery, string, torches, rubber gloves, tools and even wet wipes and laundered men’s underwear. Then a few IDs and pension books vanished.
The last straw was when Mavis’ bed broke in the middle of the night and slats were found to be missing and mole hills began to appear on the lawn. Matron even had a row with the Mole Catcher when he declared it was not mole damage just heaps of dirt.
Baffled and thwarted and nearing the point of insanity Matron did what she did best, she clamped down even harder in a bid to establish her mastery of both staff and residents. The meagre fare at Sunnyside became even more meagre. The residents became lethargic and weak with the poor nutrition; staff resignations piled up on her desk.
It became total war – all residents’ rooms were to be searched. Ernest knew it was only a matter of time before the tunnel was found. He needed another tunnel. He started exploring near the garages. Slipping on the wet manhole cover he was trying to lift he fell backwards hitting his head. When he recovered consciousness he had the mother of all headaches but his thoughts, for the first time in many years, were lucid. The POW camp in his mind melted away. What on earth was he doing digging tunnels?
Realty struck him hard as he saw the real deprivation and sadness of his fellow inmates. He made up his mind that he would plan and execute a real mass breakout and the world would know all about it. He ‘phoned his son and enlisted the help of Cook who was only too delighted to help.
At last his son ‘phoned to say all was arranged – breakout was to be 7.30pm on 7th July, a week away. Ernest sent out sealed notes to all his fellow sufferers. As D Day approached the mood lifted amongst the residents. Groups whispered in corners and the draconian measures Matron brought in could not subdue their exuberance. It drove her to accept the olive branch Cook was holding out to join her in a glass of wine or two. It became her nightly solace.
On the evening of the 7th Cook left Matron slumped fast asleep over her desk, an empty bottle of wine at her elbow. Her daughter’s boyfriend; journalist from the local Echo was called.
Cook distracted duty staff whilst Ernest gathered the residents outside to wait for the transport to take them to the Rusty Anchor and a slap up meal he had ordered.
Two hours later, Matron, rudely aroused from her drunken stupor by police answering an anonymous call, was trying to explain the wine bottle and the absence of her charges. The Weekly Echo was taking copious notes and pictures. Cook was called and cheerfully began spilling the beans on the Stalag type regime that Matron had enforced. Residents joined in and two months later under the strong gaze of the media, local and now national, Cook was promoted to Matron. Old staff was reinstated and Sunnyside for the first time lived up to its name.