Chapter 20
FAYE
It’s lost, completely lost.
I don’t remember where I put the meat.
I grip hold of the kitchen counter and pull in a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep calm.
I need to put the beef in the oven. They’ll be here soon and lunch isn’t nearly ready.
As I move towards the fridge to look for the joint in the roasting tin for the hundredth time, I hear a creak upstairs. Then another.
Footsteps.
Is someone here already? Did I forget that they’ve already arrived?
I walk over to the bottom of the stairs and call up.
“Hello?”
I wait for a reply that doesn’t come. No, I’m here by myself and they’re due to arrive at 12 p.m. It’s the paranoia again.
I can’t trust my mind. Over the last few days the dementia has ramped up.
And now here I am imagining some intruder in my home.
I try to shake off the uneasy feeling that flutters alongside my confusion.
It won’t subside. It’s been lingering for a while now.
“I don’t have time for this.” I say, returning to the kitchen.
The last few days have gone by in a blur.
Alistair and I have been texting, but we haven’t met again.
I haven’t felt up to it. I followed his advice though and after a little Google investigating, I called the adoption agency and have been told a case worker will be in touch soon.
I can’t face the memoir right now, so I’ve been working on the next Palmer Twins book instead.
The rest of the time, I’ve been mostly watching the phone, waiting for the adoption agency to get back to me and worrying about losing myself again.
I’m convinced that the dementia is progressing more quickly than I thought.
Sometimes it feels like I’m sweeping up a million shards of glass and trying to put them back together.
I thought I had everything under control but I’ve been spiralling away from myself, losing my grip on simple tasks and the stark shape of reality.
I feel as though eyes are on me, silent witnesses to my decline, but when I search for the source of that feeling, I am always alone.
It’s the reason I’ve put off seeing Alistair again.
I don’t want to have another incident when we’re together and I just can’t face telling him about my diagnosis and navigating his reaction.
What’s the point anyway, when I might not even be here for much longer?
Pull yourself together, Faye.
Suddenly my thoughts are broken by the sound of a bell.
What is that? The oven timer? Then more insistent ringing follows.
Is someone calling my phone? I walk over to where it sits on the counter and see a notification from my doorbell app.
I click on it and see a video of Penny and a man waiting at my front door.
It’s the bloody doorbell. Of course. They’re here.
I hurry to the front door and snatch it open.
“Hi!”
Penny and a man I don’t recognise stand on the doorstep. He’s tall, with dark hair and brown eyes. He smiles warmly at me. For a moment I think I’m supposed to know who he is and I’m scared that I don’t.
“Penny,” I say, reaching for the next word and not finding it.
“You okay, Mum?” Penny’s expression shifts into one of concern.
I wrap my hands around her shoulders, pulling her to me, pretending to hug her when I’m really in need of a hug myself. “Oh, yes, I’m fine. Come in, both of you.” Then I remember. This has to be Penny’s new boyfriend. “You must be Tim.”
As I let go of my daughter, I extend a hand to the man next to her. He takes mine in both of his and meets my gaze with a smile.
“It’s lovely to meet you, Mrs Mathis.”
They step in and I wave a hand to usher them through to the kitchen. Tim looks smart in a crisply ironed blue shirt. He’s definitely more attractive than her last boyfriend. But when I view him under the glare of the kitchen lights, I see that he’s probably about ten years older than Pen.
“Is Nathan here yet?” Penny asks, placing a bottle of wine on the counter.
“Not yet,” I say.
“He sent me a text early this morning to let me know he was setting off,” Penny says. “Jessica and Kiri are at a birthday party.”
“I haven’t seen Kiri for a while now. How old is she?” An image of Nathan’s baby pops into my mind along with the regret that I’m not closer to my stepson.
“Three,” Penny says. “How’s the roast going?”
“Swimmingly,” I say, remembering that I don’t know where I’ve put the beef.
Penny walks over to the oven and pulls down the door.
“Mmm,” she says. “It smells good, Mum.”
And in that moment, all the tension leaves my body and it’s replaced by some clarity.
I put the beef in fifty minutes ago and it’s roasting well.
The potatoes are in too. I remember now that I was going to make a soup as a starter but the bread rolls I bought have already been eaten.
I must have had them for lunch yesterday, although I have no memory of it.
But, hey, I did just invent an intruder in the house so I’m clearly getting one step closer to losing all the marbles in my brain.
Now I just need to whip up the Yorkshire pudding batter and boil some peas. Everything is under control. It was a blip, a nothing. I’m fine.
“Would you like any help, Mrs Mathis?” Tim asks.
I wave a hand. “Not at all. Can I pour you both a glass of wine?”
Tim shakes his head. “None for me, thanks. I’m driving today.”
“Penny?”
“Make it a large one,” she says.
I grab the bottle they brought and place it in the fridge. Then I take out the cooled bottle I put in earlier, fetch two wine glasses and pour them out.
“So, how did you two meet?” I ask.
Penny sips her wine before speaking. “Tim slid into my DMs.”
“What do you mean ‘slid into your DMs’? I’m a hundred years old, remember.” I roll my eyes dramatically and let out a giggle.
“He sent me a private message on Instagram.” She grins and holds out a hand for Tim to take.
He squeezes her hand, looking down at her with a loving gaze. “I swear the message was innocent. Penny posted about a band I happen to love.”
“Albion Foxes,” Penny says. “They’re a band from York. Do you remember me telling you, Mum? I followed them when they were gigging around the area.”
I nod my head, vaguely remembering Penny playing them in the car once after making a playlist for me to listen to.
“We met at a gig after chatting on Insta and things sparked from there,” Tim says, smiling.
The doorbell rings, and I stand on weary legs. Penny I always love to see but I’m finding it difficult to be interested in this new boyfriend. Well, they never hang around long enough to be a problem. This one won’t be any different.
But now I have to deal with Nathan. I push down thoughts of the past as I make my way across the hall and swing open the door.
“Hello, Mummy,” Nathan says, with a Cheshire cat smile. He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “I brought something for you.”
He passes me a bottle of excellent champagne.
“This looks very expensive.”
“Only the best for my stepmother,” he says, widening his grin.
Nathan inherited all of his cockiness from Scott but not quite as much charm. While Scott exudes warmth beneath the bravado, Nathan is cold.
I remember the times I would try to hug five-year-old Nathan, and he would give me nothing but a penetrating stare.
Later he’d punish me with bad behaviour.
It became a pattern. I knew it was because his mother had died about a year before I came on the scene, but knowing that didn’t change anything.
I’d try to break through his defences but he would see any sort of affection as something to resent or rebel against.
“Come in,” I say, trying to keep my voice warm.
We head into the kitchen where Penny is taking the potatoes out of the oven.
“I always forget how lovely this house is. Such wonderful views,” Nathan says. “And a big garden for kids to play in.”
“Could you help your sister, Nathan?” I say, sitting down at the table, suddenly exhausted at the idea of hosting these people in my house. “I’m so sorry but I am feeling a little tired.”
Nathan takes a seat, stretching out his feet. “Penny can handle herself.”
“Mum?” Penny calls from across the room. “Are you okay?”
It’s Tim who gets up to help with the dinner. I glance sidewards at Nathan, who simply smirks back. He gets under my skin, like ants burrowing into my flesh.
I wave a hand. “I’m fine, just tired.”
“You’ve been doing too much,” Penny chides. “Sit down and put your feet up. We’ll handle this.”
I sip my wine and regard Nathan from across the table. “How’s Kiri?”
“Perfect,” he says. “She’s so clever. And naughtier than I was as a child.”
“Is that possible?” I ask.
Nathan lets out a short laugh before showing me photos of his daughter on his phone. I have to admit that he looks the part of the doting father in every picture. Even with all the resentment between us, I find it heart-warming to see.
“You’ll have to bring her here next time,” I say.
“It wouldn’t be too much for you?” Nathan asks.
“Why would it be?” I reply.
He shrugs. “No reason.”
Before I can push, Penny comes walking in carrying plates of food.
“All done, Mum.” Penny places a plate of food in front of me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, honestly.” I glance across at Tim, who I’ve just met, and would prefer not to feel so self-conscious in front of. But Penny has that same worried expression on her face that makes me feel five years old. “Come on, let’s tuck in.”
Penny takes the hint. “Sure. Let’s have a nice meal.” She stabs a potato and gives me a small smile. I sense there are unspoken words dangling awkwardly around us.
“I heard you went viral recently, Mrs Mathis,” Tim blurts out. “That must have been quite an experience.”
I freeze, the fork part-way between the plate and my lips.
“Oh, um, Tim, we probably shouldn’t—” Penny starts.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Tim adds.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, Mrs Mathis.
You’re ill, I know that, I just wondered what it was like having that much attention on you.
It must have been quite an unusual experience.
” He smiles widely at first, but the longer our eyes meet, the more his expression fades into one of concern.
I put the fork down. “It’s not really something I like talking about. Given the sensitive nature of the photograph.”
“Oh, totally,” he says. “I have a foot and mouth issue. Sorry!”
Nathan lets out a laugh. “Finally, I’m not the only one.”
“It’s okay,” I say. “Don’t worry about it.”
“But you really have nothing to worry about,” Tim says. “You have a great body for a woman your age.”
“Tim!” Penny gasps.
Tim slaps his forehead with his hand. “Shit… I mean, gosh, I’m so sorry. Foot in mouth again. I told you!”
Nathan starts to laugh, a portion of chewed potato visible from the corner of his mouth, and leans so far back in his chair it almost tips over. I send him the glare I’d rather have sent to Tim.
Cheeks burning, I choose to ignore them both and try to eat. Tim is still apologising but I just raise a hand to get him to stop.
“Tim that was so insensitive. Sorry, Mum,” Penny says. “Sorry.”
I hear Tim whisper, “But it was a compliment.”
Maybe it was and I should laugh it off. In a week or a month I might. But right now I’m too filled with frustration and annoyance. I add, “It’s not me in the photograph.”
Penny sighs but she says nothing.
The silence thickens around us. It’s clear that today isn’t the right time to tell Penny about finding my birth mother.
And, honestly, after her doubting me again I don’t even want to admit to her what I’ve been doing.
She’ll probably think I’m fixating on proving I’m not the woman in the photo by digging into my past.
Nathan ends up breaking the silence by talking to Tim about football. But I can’t concentrate on a single word they’re saying, because all I’m thinking about is how disconnected I feel from my family and how I want nothing more than to go back to the person I was before.