that. ‘Sure,’ she replied, recalling their drunken midnight walk. ‘I might not drink quite as much, though.’
‘On the contrary, I insist that you do.’ Taran laughed and she laughed with him. ‘We can go for another midnight walk and sit on Dad’s bench.’
‘I’d like that,’ she said, envisaging the bench and the view. Envisaging the kiss that didn’t quite happen. ‘Shall we get to work?’
‘I suppose we must. I’d rather just talk to you.’
‘You can talk to me as we work.’
He sighed. ‘All right. Go to his desk . . .’
‘I’m here.’
‘Move the papers so you can see my name scratched into the wood.’ She did as she was told. Taran was carved in childish scrawl on the beautiful desk.
‘You little vandal!’
‘I did that when I was about seven and Dad went crazy . . .’ Daisy sat down in the big leather chair and smiled. This was going to be a long call. She wondered whether he needed her help after all, or whether he just needed to talk.
Marigold sat at Beryl’s kitchen table with a cup of tea. Beryl was now walking without her stick and was in high spirits, having just baked fifty chocolate brownies for the summer fair. Marigold had totally forgotten about the summer fair and had made nothing. She wondered why no one had asked her.
‘Enough about me,’ said Beryl. ‘How are you?’ She narrowed her eyes and scrutinized her friend. ‘You’ve been a little distracted lately.’
Marigold swallowed a mouthful of tea and summoned her courage. ‘I have dementia, Beryl,’ she said.
Beryl’s eyes widened and she looked cross. ‘Rubbish,’ she exclaimed. ‘Of course you don’t.’
‘Why do you say that, Beryl?’
‘Because you can’t have it. It would just be so unfair.’
‘Life isn’t fair, is it?’
‘Who says you have it? Your doctor? Not that useless GP, what’s he called? You see, I forget things too! That GP has misdiagnosed me more than once. I wouldn’t listen to a word he says.’
‘I’ve been tested.’
‘By whom?’
‘A clinical psychologist.’
‘Well, you can’t be that bad if you remembered “clinical psychologist”.’
‘I can’t remember her name, though.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything.’
Marigold looked her friend in the eye. ‘Beryl, I also had a brain scan which showed my brain deteriorating. I think it looks like a piece of cheese. Anyway, I’ve looked up the symptoms.’ She tried not to show her fear. She smiled. ‘It’s not the end of the world, is it? I’m still here, at least. Many aren’t that lucky, are they?’
‘If you have it, Marigold, I’ll do anything to make your life easier.’
‘There is one thing I would like you to do for me.’
‘What’s that? Make your excuses at the meeting tonight?’ Marigold wasn’t aware there was a meeting tonight. ‘Julia is very annoying,’ Beryl continued. ‘I’d like to make my excuses too, but my sense of duty to the community won’t allow it. I’m stuck, but I can make excuses for you, Marigold.’
‘No, it’s not that. I remember you saying you had a friend with dementia in a nursing home not far from here.’
‘Yes, I did. Well remembered. You see, you can’t have dementia if you remember things like that. Rosie Price. Poor thing.’
‘Yes, Rosie. I’d like to visit her.’
Beryl was horrified. ‘Why would you want to do that? Won’t it be very depressing?’
‘I want to see where I might end up.’
‘Dennis won’t let you end up in there.’
‘He’ll have to if he can no longer look after me himself.’
‘He’ll always be able to look after you, Marigold. Your Dennis is not like other men—’
Marigold interrupted her. ‘He is just a man, Beryl, and in spite of his greatest efforts, he might find it gets too much.’
Beryl sighed helplessly. ‘Oh Marigold!’
‘I know, I’ve googled.’
‘You shouldn’t google, you should ask an expert. Google is very unreliable.’ She sighed again. ‘All right. If you must, I’ll take you. When do you want to go?’
‘Today?’
‘Who’s manning the shop?’
‘Tasha. I’ve taken a back seat now. It’s beyond me these days.’
‘Eileen will be sad if you’re not there to talk to.’
Marigold smiled. ‘Don’t worry. Eileen will find me in my kitchen instead.’
Beryl stood up. ‘All right. I’ll arrange a visit this afternoon.’ She gave her friend a searching look. ‘If you’re absolutely sure you want to go.’
Marigold nodded firmly. ‘I am, Beryl,’ she said. ‘I need to go.’
Chapter 20
Beryl and Marigold stood in front of the big oak door of Seaview House and rang the bell. Marigold had felt sick from the moment she had got into the car, but she felt sicker now. The