Dreams of a Little Cornish Cottage

by Nancy Barone

  ‘Take care. And, Nat?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Don’t worry about your mam. I told you, mine had the same spells and now she’s absolutely grand.’

  ‘Thank you, Connor, I hope you’re right.’

  ‘I like Beryl. She’s a real character. And a trouper.’

  ‘She sure is. Thank you, Connor, for being there to help Sarah. And for all the other things, too.’

  He chuckled. ‘No problem. I’ll open a bottle of red for when you get in.’

  ‘Okay. Later, then. Bye, Connor,’ I said and reluctantly hung up. Because the moment I did, the air went flat and heavy with misery again.

  ‘Nat?’ Neil called.

  I turned and saw him standing with Dr Simpson so I ran down the corridor, my heart in my throat.

  ‘Easy, easy,’ Neil said. ‘It’s fine.’

  Dr Simpson smiled. ‘I just wanted you to know that she’s sleeping now and tomorrow we’ll be running some more tests. We’ll call you when we have the results.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said, relieved. I didn’t know why, but I had expected it to be bad news. Mum had never, ever been in hospital before and the idea of her lying there helpless made me want to bawl like a baby.

  The doctor shook my hand. ‘Pleased to have finally met you, Natalia.’

  Strange how, in all my years of catering Neil’s dinners, I had not met him. ‘Thank you, Dr Simpson. Thank you so much.’

  *

  When I got in, I went straight into the kitchen where Connor was drying the dishes, bless him.

  ‘Hey… how is she?’ he asked as I sank down into a chair.

  ‘She’s okay at the moment. Tomorrow they’ll run some more tests and get back to us.’

  ‘Okay, good. You did the right thing to not waste any time.’

  ‘How are the girls?’ I asked as Connor turned on the microwave oven.

  ‘Absolute gems,’ he said, sitting down opposite me and pouring me the wine he’d promised. ‘Sarah and I tired them out with a game of Twister.’

  I giggled despite myself. ‘I can’t imagine you pretzeled up with Amy and Zoe.’

  He pushed the hair away from his face, revealing a high, intelligent forehead. He really was beautiful. ‘It was fun! Of course they beat the crap out of me.’

  I chuckled, and he leaned forward, taking my hand. ‘Nat? It’s going to be fine. I’m here for you, okay?’

  I looked at his hand, a sweep of deep heat enveloping me, and I suddenly knew what women meant when they talked about hot flashes.

  ‘Thank you, Connor. You’re so kind. I don’t know what I did to deserve a lodger like you.’

  He stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. ‘You’re you, and that’s enough, Nat.’

  He looked deep into my eyes. Was he finally, finally, going to kiss me?

  Before I could answer, the oven pinged and he let go of my hand to retrieve what was inside. ‘I made lasagne,’ he said, placing the fragrant dish before me.

  It was better that way, otherwise I would have never known if he’d done it out of pity, or just to cheer me up.

  ‘Mum – sorry, I fell asleep,’ Sarah said as she padded into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. ‘How’s Nana?’

  ‘She’ll be okay, we think. She’s resting now.’

  ‘Oh, thank God,’ she said as she sank into a chair opposite me. ‘When can she come home?’

  Home. This was, indeed, everyone’s home, no matter how long they were going to stay, and the thought that I could still provide a safe haven for my loved ones filled me with pride. The downsizing would have to wait.

  ‘We don’t know yet, probably in a couple of days, just to make sure they have the time to run all the necessary tests.’

  ‘Eat up, now’ Connor said. ‘I’ll be upstairs if you need me.’

  He had sensed that Sarah and I might need some time together as I rarely saw her these days. ‘Thanks, Connor.’

  ‘Buon appetito!’ he said as he went.

  Buon appetito indeed, I thought, inhaling the fragrance. It looked home-made. I popped a huge forkful into my mouth and nearly swooned. It had been made from scratch. Was there any end to this man’s talents?

  ‘How did things go here with the girls?’ I asked as I washed down my mouthful with a bit of vino rosso.

  Sarah grinned. ‘It was great. Connor kept them busy all day without a moment to spare. I’m beginning to understand what you see in him besides his looks.’

  ‘I’m glad. That you’re getting along, I mean.’

  ‘He also gave me some advice about Sam.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Financial and legal advice, mainly. He told me how to trawl through the web to see if there were any forgotten or hidden accounts where Sam might have had money. Maybe that will begin to cover what he owes me.’

  ‘Brilliant, Sarah, I’m glad.’

  ‘I wanted to thank you, Mum.’

  ‘For what, love?’

  ‘For taking me in and all.’

  ‘Sarah – this is your home for as long as you need it.’

  ‘Thanks. But things are better now. I’m still angry with Sam, but I no longer love him. It’s like a blindfold has fallen away from my eyes. I finally see him for what he is – a dirty, lying scumbag.’

  I was glad she had said it and not me.

  ‘I’m off to bed, now,’ she said, getting to her feet. ‘I’m exhausted. I don’t know how you do it all.’

  ‘The same way I did it for you and Lizzie – with love. Are you up early tomorrow?’

  Sarah nodded. ‘I have a meeting. You?’

  ‘I’ll have to go in and see about Nana.’

  ‘Is Dad going with you?’

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to get her hopes up about us spending any time together. After all, she was still on his side. ‘As Nana’s GP, yes.’

  ‘Okay, that’s a good thing. He still loves you, you know?’

  I made an effort not to snort but she tactfully changed the subject.

  ‘Is Connor babysitting tomorrow as well?’ she asked. ‘Because I have to work.’

  ‘Yes. I should start paying him instead of the other way around.’

  Sarah chuckled. ‘Yeah. Night, Mum. Good luck for tomorrow, and send me a message.’

  I got up and washed my plate and fork, leaving my glass half full. ‘Will do, darling. Have a good day.’

  Before turning in, I checked on the girls. They were fast asleep, completely knackered by Connor’s games. Where did he find the energy to keep up with them? All day and every day it was Connor this, and Connor that, Connor, look and Connor, come! And how selfless he was.

  I hoped he would stick around a little longer. I didn’t know how the girls would do without him now.

  *

  The next morning, Neil came to pick me up to go to Truro and consult with Dr Simpson again.

  ‘Pete – how is she?’ Neil asked before his friend had even settled in his chair opposite us.

  Pete took a deep breath and my stomach sank. ‘We’re looking at a diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease. The symptoms are all there.’

  ‘Alzheimer’s?’ I echoed. Fear grew inside me like flames licking at wood. Would Mum lose all her memories, first her recent ones, and then finally her youth, until she could remember nothing at all?

  I had read some articles on dementia in passing, but had never really stopped to think that this would affect my family, and so soon, to boot. We never think that these things can happen to us, touch us so soon. And then, bam – they do. My entire world crashed onto my head as I tried to digest the information.

  Alzheimer’s. I’d heard what it did to people. All the horrible transformations it brought about, wreaking havoc on the brain cells. She had started off loopy, and then she had become downright strange and at times even absent. And soon, she wouldn’t even recognise us.

  ‘It’s not that advanced yet, but she will have moments where she’ll seem to be lucid and then a moment later, she’ll
be absent.’

  I let out a breath and raked a hand through my hair. Neil’s arm circled my shoulders. ‘The girls will be distraught, and especially the twins. How can I explain this to two eight-year-olds?’ I said. ‘I have to call Yolanda.’

  He nodded. ‘You go and wait for me outside. I’ll get some more info off Peter.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I want to know every little thing first-hand.’ I swallowed. ‘She’s… my mother.’

  ‘Easy, Nat, don’t get upset. We’ll deal with this, one day at a time.’

  I dashed a hand across my eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor Simpson. I’m ready.’

  ‘Well, what we do know about Alzheimer’s is that it is a cognitive impairment. Not all cognitive impairments lead to Alzheimer’s specifically. Clinically speaking, there are five stages of the disease. Many people may already suffer from it without any evident symptoms.’

  ‘So you’re saying that this started long before I realised what was going on, right?’

  He nodded, and I buried my forehead in my hand.

  ‘Don’t blame yourself. It is often undetectable in the beginning,’ he said.

  Don’t blame yourself. As if I couldn’t not blame myself. Who else was responsible for her? And all these years I’d considered myself much more put together than Yolanda and therefore more responsible. Some daughter I was.

  Amidst my misery, another half hour was spent listing the mainly unknown causes of the disease, what it entailed and what could be expected for the future. I had heard pretty much most of it before from second-hand sources. But I never had thought that it could happen to my mum. Strong, scathing Mum. After years of demanding the best from everyone, she had in the end reached her own breaking point. And I had no idea how to deal with it.

  *

  So that evening I called a family meeting with them all, explaining to the twins what was happening, and Zoe almost fell apart, her lower lip trembling. ‘Why won’t she recognise us, Auntie Nat? Doesn’t she love us anymore?’

  ‘Oh, sweetheart – Nana loves you two more than anything! She’s just a little confused at the moment, is all.’

  ‘Is she going to start dribbling and wearing her clothes inside out?’ Amy said. ‘Because Candace’s nana does that and it’s absolutely disgusting.’

  ‘Amy!’ Zoe cried.

  ‘Of course not,’ Lizzie said, taking Amy onto her lap. ‘Mum is going to take really good care of Nana, you’ll see. And we’ll do all we can to help, won’t we?’

  Zoe nodded firmly, while Amy made a face. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Well, darling, you can start by being really nice to Nana and bringing her flowers and make drawings for her. And sitting in the same room with her as much as you can. She loves to have you around.’

  ‘But what if she doesn’t recognise us at all? Candace’s nana doesn’t even remember her own name.’

  At that, Connor and I exchanged glances. ‘Your nana isn’t that bad, girls, not to worry,’ he said. ‘And especially with all of us, she’ll have everything she needs and she’ll never be lonely. Right?’

  ‘Right,’ Zoe said.

  Sarah nudged Amy. ‘Right?’

  Amy drew out a long sigh, as if she was eighty years old and exhausted from a long life of difficulties. I knew exactly how she felt. ‘Right. But she’d better not smell like Candace’s nana.’

  ‘She won’t,’ I promised them. ‘She’ll be as clean and beautiful as ever. I’ll take really good care of her.’ And that was a promise.

  But I couldn’t help but wonder – was this the beginning of the end? Was this how it went? One day Mum forgot a name, or a date, and the next day, a little more, until one day she wouldn’t even recognise our faces? Were we on our way to becoming strangers to her?

  9

  Someone Like You

  When Neil and I got home with Mum, everyone was waiting in the living room to allow us to manoeuvre her wheelchair as her ankle was still not completely healed, plus she’d had dizzy spells so we kept the risk of her falling to a bare minimum.

  Connor and the twins had made a huge, colourful banner reading Welcome Home, Nana! Surrounded by big pink and red hearts. Lizzie and Sarah had flung open the French doors to the garden and set the table in the dining room and there were fresh flowers everywhere.

  ‘Look, Mum,’ I said, bending to her. ‘Look what a lovely welcome party for you!’

  The girls wrapped their arms around her, pleased to see that she still smelled good, while Sarah and Lizzie fussed over her, pushing her wheelchair over to the dinner table where piles of presents were stocked.

  Mum looked up at me. ‘Are they staying long?’

  Silent glances bounced around the room, and even the twins had the sense to be quiet.

  I bent down before her and caressed her cheek. ‘No, Mum. Are you hungry? There’s a lovely roast, look, just for you.’

  But Mum shrugged and rested her jaw on her knuckles. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  Amy turned to her. ‘Nana, is it true that you’re losing your marbles?’

  ‘Amy…!’ Sarah said.

  Amy shrugged. ‘That’s what my friend Josh says.’

  Mum cackled. ‘You tell your friend that it’s better to lose your marbles than your balls!’

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ I moaned. ‘Whatever happened to trying to make Connor think we’re not weird?’

  Connor laughed and gave her a bouquet of flowers. ‘I love weird. Welcome back, Beryl. I missed you.’

  She patted his jaw affectionately. ‘I’ve missed you too, Ross.’

  ‘Mum – that’s Connor, remember?’

  But she turned to glare at me. ‘What’s the matter with you? Can’t you see that’s Ross Poldark? I saw him galloping on his horse along the path the other morning.’

  Silence filled the room as my daughters eyed each other.

  Neil coughed. ‘I, uh. I’d better get going.’

  ‘Aw, Dad. Stay for dinner. There’s all this food. Can’t he, Mum?’ Sarah asked. As if I could say no in front of everyone. And I owed him.

  ‘Yes, please do stay, Neil.’

  But Neil looked at Connor. ‘No, thank you. I’ll call you later to check on Mum.’

  ‘Dad, come on,’ Sarah said, while Lizzie abstained. She was not a fan of her father, and never had been.

  Mum pointed at me and we all settled to hear what she had to say. ‘Put the telly on, Yolanda. Doc Martin is about to start.’

  *

  During the next few weeks, her condition worsened. She became irritable and aggressive, lashing out at me both verbally and physically. She’d even bitten my hand once. Other times she’d sit in her armchair, possibly brooding, possibly empty-minded. I needed to stimulate her constantly, I’d been told. So I went up to the attic, found the box I was looking for, then to the kitchen for a quick rifle through the drawers and skipped back down to the living room.

  ‘Look what I’ve got here, Mum,’ I said, showing her my find, i.e. the girls’ old baby monitors. It was the only way I could think of to keep my eyes and ears on her at all times.

  ‘See how this works, Mum? It’s like a two-way radio or a walkie-talkie.’

  ‘What the hell do you need that for?’ she asked, eyeing it as if it was a three-headed monster.

  ‘It’s for parents to listen in to their babies’ rooms to make sure—’ I bit my lip. I had almost broken one of the golden rules. Never humiliate or be condescending. ‘It’s so you can call me if you need anything, or if you feel lonely, and we can have a chat from two separate rooms. What do you think, Mum?’

  ‘Hm. Sounds like just an excuse to be lazy to me.’

  I clamped my mouth shut. This humouring and being patient thing was proving to be much more difficult than I had thought. Come on, Nat. You can do it. Do this for her, now. She’s your mother, for goodness’ sake.

  Of course I was going to do it, no question. Although I couldn’t help but think that even if I had been a feisty child, there was no comp
arison with what I was having to put up with now.

  I was doing everything by the book. I was being patient, kind, reassuring, never putting her on the spot with her memory loss, obviously, and always repeated things in the exact same way so she wouldn’t get confused. I broke down instructions into bite-sized tasks. Please stand up. Please raise your arms. Please be patient while I change your nightgown. Please sit down. Now pull your legs up. Now lie down. I was doing everything I could and more, to make sure my mother never felt hurried or harried.

  I waited patiently for her to eat her meals, and when she refused to eat and demanded something else, I cooked it. I never flinched when she threw her food at me, or when she swore at me or bit me. Who said it would be easy?

  When she was settled, I went back into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of wine and a wine glass from the cabinet. I set them down on the coffee table at the other end of the orangery and bent to the bottom shelf of the wall-to-wall book unit. I pulled out a box of pictures that I had been meaning to sort out and put into photo albums one day. There was a complete mish-mash, from my childhood to our last trip together as a family just before the divorce. I hadn’t taken a single picture since then – not even a passing selfie.

  I took a sip and began sifting through them, trying to put them into some semblance of order, when I heard the front door click and a few moments later Connor ambled into the orangery, his black leather bag dangling from his wrist.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, a huge grin on his face.

  I looked up from my glass of wine. ‘Hi. How was your evening?’

  ‘It was good. Yours?’

  Lonely without you, I wanted to say.

  I held up my glass. ‘Care to join?’

  ‘Sure,’ he said, putting his bag down in the corner and going to the cabinet for a wine glass.

  ‘What have you got there? Family pictures?’

  ‘Hmm, yes. A little stroll down memory lane.’

  ‘Mind if I have a nosy?’

  ‘If you like. Most of them are of Sarah and Lizzie growing up.’

  ‘None of you?’ he asked, sitting beside me, and that usual warmth filled me. It had to be the wine.