Here and Now - Santa Montefiore Page 0,144

don’t you, Marigold?’ said Nan. ‘You’ve always liked snow.’

Marigold turned her eyes to the snow and remained there a while, enjoying the way the sunlight caught the crystals and made them glitter.

‘I love Christmas,’ said Suze. ‘I’ve always loved presents.’

Marigold turned her attention back to the group. She smiled at Daisy, the gracious smile of a stranger. ‘How very kind of you,’ she said.

‘And I’ve brought mince pies from my mother,’ said Taran.

Marigold didn’t know who he was, let alone his mother, but she didn’t want to let on. ‘That’s very sweet of her. Thank you.’ Again the gracious smile of someone wanting to be polite, of someone not wanting to say the wrong thing.

‘How about we make some tea,’ suggested Daisy, hoping to diffuse the tension that was slowly building around them.

Marigold’s face grew animated suddenly. ‘That’s a good idea. Let’s have a nice cup of tea,’ she said. ‘There’s nothing nicer than a cup of tea when it’s cold outside.’

Daisy stood up and handed the baby to Taran. ‘I’ll pop to the kitchen and boil the kettle.’

Suze stood up too. ‘I’ll help you,’ she declared. ‘We’re a big party and I imagine we all want one.’

Marigold looked at the two pretty girls, then at the men. What a handsome group, she thought. Then she turned to Nan. ‘Whatever happened to that lovely man, Dennis? Did he ever marry?’ she asked. ‘He was handsome, wasn’t he?’

Daisy and Suze froze. They looked at their father in panic. Dennis stared at Marigold. She did not notice the pain she had inflicted.

Nan opened her mouth to say something. Daisy felt an urgent need to pre-empt her, but couldn’t find the words. Then Nan patted her daughter’s hand and nodded, realizing at last what was required of her. ‘He was indeed very handsome,’ she said softly. ‘He married a lovely girl. A beautiful, kind and unselfish girl. The two of them have been very happy. In fact, I’d say, they’ve been happier than anyone else I’ve ever met.’

‘How nice,’ said Marigold.

And Dennis realized then that the book entitled Dennis had finally fallen off the shelf. He wondered what the point was in coming here, week after week, year after year. What was the point of it all? He looked at the pale pink roses on the carpet at his feet and wondered why he bothered. They had long ceased to bring her back to him. He lifted his gaze to her guileless face, to the sweet smile that hovered uncertainly upon it, and something snagged inside his heart.

And then he knew. He knew with a certainty that rose in him like a powerful wave, an indestructible wave of unconditional love, and he understood. It didn’t matter that she didn’t know who he was, because he knew who she was. She was his Goldie, his beloved, beautiful, irreplaceable Goldie, and she always would be.

Acknowledgements:

My heart goes out to all those living with dementia and to the friends and family members who love and support them. During my research I met some truly inspiring people, both patients and carers, and was struck by the strength of their devotion. Here and Now is the story of Marigold’s decline, but above all it is about love, enduring love, the kind of love that survives whatever obstacles are put in its way.

I could not have brought Marigold and Dennis to life without the wisdom and advice of my dear friend Simon Jacobs. It was the time I spent with him that inspired the core message in the book, which is a spiritual one: as the memory fades and the personality retreats, the soul – the true self – is still perfect and whole and eternal. I’m so grateful for our many years of friendship and for the magical things he has taught me.

Dennis is inspired by my friend Jeff Menear, who is an extremely talented carpenter. He’s made many wonderful things for me over the years, converting my wild ideas into masterpieces with the skilful craftsmanship of a truly gifted artist. I can’t thank him enough for his time and for all the details he gave me about the profession which helped me develop my character. I also want to acknowledge his wife Siobhan and his late mother Jean, because the little, seemingly irrelevant things they chipped into the conversation were pearls.

When I saw Sam Sopwith’s beautiful drawings of animals I decided that Daisy had to be an artist like her. Sam’s animals are extraordinary. They gaze out of the paper with a depth of emotion one doesn’t find in photographs. I wanted my heroine to have that talent and sensitivity. So, thank you, Sam, for being my muse and inspiration. It’s only a matter of time before I ask you to draw my dog!

I would also like to thank my Argentine friend, Pablo Jendretzki, who is an architect living in New York. Handsome, charismatic, charming and gifted, he was the perfect man to inspire Taran. Thank you, Pablo.

I am grateful to my parents, Charlie and Patty Palmer-Tomkinson, for giving me the most loving, free and stable childhood, and for being my best friends and wise advisors during my adult years. I thank my aunt Naomi Dawson, James and Sarah Palmer-Tomkinson and their four children, Honor, India, Wilf and Sam, because as I get older I understand more fully the value of family. I thank my late sister, Tara, for teaching me about loss and love. I miss her.

I am deeply grateful to my brilliant agent, Sheila Crowley, and my film agent, Luke Speed, and to all those at Curtis Brown who work on my behalf: Alice Lutyens, Katie McGowan, Callum Mollison, Anna Weguelin, Emily Harris and Sabhbh Curran. A huge thank you to my editor Suzanne Baboneau, who works so diligently and sensitively on my manuscripts, my boss Ian Chapman, and their excellent team at Simon & Schuster: Gill Richardson, Polly Osborn, Rich Vlietstra, Dominic Brendon, Sian Wilson, Rebecca Farrell and Sara-Jade Virtue.

I had many a happy hour working in the peace of Fountains Coffee Shop and the Bel & Dragon in Odiham, listening to Hans Zimmerman’s Pearl Harbour soundtrack and drinking caffé lattes sprinkled with chocolate. I’m so grateful I’m able to write books because they give me such pleasure. However, it would have remained a hobby had it not been for the book-sellers and my readers, I thank you all.

Finally, and most importantly, I thank my husband Sebag and our children Lily and Sasha, for the laughter and the love.

Here and Now - Santa Montefiore Page 0,144

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