The Forgetting(61)

‘Part of me is inclined to agree with you, but I think we should probably follow the doctors’ advice.’

‘Why, what did they say?’

Stephen’s thumb continues to caress my skin. ‘That we shouldn’t flood you with too many memories too quickly. That it would be easy for you to get overwhelmed and you might have difficulty processing day-to-day information if we did that.’

I rummage through my short-term memory, rewind it to my time in hospital. But there were so many conversations with different doctors that I cannot locate the one Stephen is referring to.

‘You’re doing so well, I think we might be silly to jeopardise it. And you’ve already had so much to contend with. It’s only just over a fortnight since the crash, after all.’

I try to deconstruct the passage of time over the past couple of weeks, but each day has stretched inexorably before me, one hour bleeding into the next, time warping until I have lost any sense of where one day ends and another begins.

Stephen pulls me back into his arms, rests his head on top of mine. ‘I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you, my love. But we’ll get there. Your memory will come back eventually.’

He kisses my head, and I try to take solace in his encouragement, while somewhere inside me, a little girl stands lost in a forest, no clue how to find her way out.





LIVVY


BRISTOL

Livvy stood on the doorstep of the Georgian townhouse where her sister owned the first-floor flat and wrapped a hand around the back of her bare neck. She felt exposed, shorn, as though she had stepped into the hairdresser’s one version of herself and stepped out someone different, someone she didn’t quite recognise.

For the duration of the haircut, Livvy had stared at her own reflection, observing the transformation taking place. She had watched as the hairdresser pivoted around her, scissor blades moving quickly, snipping at the line of her jaw. When, finally, the cutting and blow-drying had ended, Livvy had looked at herself in the mirror, the effect disorienting, as though she were staring at a portrait of herself in which the painter had taken liberties with her appearance.

There was no denying that the hairdresser had performed a meticulous facsimile. Apart from the difference in colour, her hair looked exactly like the woman’s in the photograph. And yet, even as she gazed at herself, Livvy could not assess whether it was a style that actually suited her.

Livvy pressed a finger to the brass doorbell of her sister’s flat. The intercom crackled and then there was Bea’s voice, checking it was Livvy, buzzing her in.

Climbing the stairs, Livvy was aware of a gentle thrumming in her chest.

Bea’s front door was already open when Livvy reached the landing. Bea stood in the doorway with Leo in her arms, and Livvy saw it immediately: shock spreading across her sister’s face like marbling ink in water.

‘What have you done to your hair?’

‘I’ve had it cut.’

‘I can see that. But . . . why?’

Livvy forced a shrug from her shoulders. ‘I just thought it was time for a change.’

Bea stood back from the doorway and ushered Livvy inside. As she passed, Livvy took Leo from her sister’s arms, kissed the top of his head, carried him through to the sitting room where floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the room with afternoon sunshine. Sitting down on the pale blue sofa with Leo on her lap, Livvy felt Bea’s eyes hot on her face.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that’s where you were going?’

‘I didn’t want you to talk me out of it.’ Leo wriggled out of Livvy’s lap and she put him down on the thick sheepskin rug that Bea rolled out whenever Leo came to visit, placed cushions around him lest he topple to one side.

‘This was Dominic’s idea, wasn’t it?’

‘Of course not. I just wanted to try something different.’

‘So Dominic had nothing to do with it? He didn’t even suggest it?’

Heat seeped into Livvy’s cheeks. ‘For goodness’ sake, I’ve had the same hairstyle for thirty years. I just thought it was time for a change.’ She could feel Bea’s eyes on her, felt naked beneath her sister’s scrutiny.

‘There seems to be a lot of change going on in your life at the moment.’

Livvy held out a plastic figurine to Leo, watched him drop it into his yellow toy truck. ‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I don’t want to be someone who gets stuck in a rut.’

‘Sure. But it seems that you’re taking on quite a lot at the moment: the move, giving up your job, your appearance—’

‘It’s only a haircut.’

Bea paused. ‘It’s not just the haircut though, is it? You hardly spend time with anyone except Dominic and Leo these days.’

‘What’s wrong with that? They’re my family.’

‘But that doesn’t mean you have to stop seeing everyone else in your life.’

‘I’m not. Stop exaggerating.’

‘I’m not criticising you. I’m worried about you.’ Bea took in a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t sure when to tell you this, but I’ve been doing a bit of digging.’ She hesitated. ‘I spoke to one of Dominic’s ex-girlfriends.’

Livvy felt blindsided. ‘What?’