The Memory Dress

Chapter Thirteen

THIRTEEN

Davina is the first to arrive at my place, unexpectedly trailing Maggie with her. “Okay, iPad on, watch the movie, and don’t cause any problems, please, Maggie. There is a trip to the cinema in it for you this weekend if you can manage that.”

Maggie already has her headphones on, and I doubt she’s even heard the incentive. Would it make any difference if she had? She heads straight for the kitchen, where she has presumably spied the snacks, and then we both smile as she bellows, “I live for peanuts!”

“Strange that we’re meeting here?” Davina says to me. “It’s usually at Jake’s place when it’s his turn.”

I don’t get a chance to respond as there is another knock at the door and Olivia and Jake arrive. Everyone knows one another in that basic we share an entrance hallway and recycling facilities kind of way, so they all quickly take a seat on my two sofas, filling the room for the first time since I moved in. Everyone looks expectantly at Jake, assuming, of course, he is about to run through some standard maintenance updates. He does, but I’m not listening to a word of it, too preoccupied with the thought that soon all these eyes will be directed at me.

Davina thinks the security measures in the building should be upgraded after hearing one of the other town houses had a break-in last month. Olivia suggests a key lockbox for one of the external walls at the back of the property to avoid any future lockouts, and Jake volunteers to see to it that all the communal walls and halls are repainted by the end of the year before he readily agrees to get quotes for the other requests. He is very giving of his time considering the large chunk of it running a business must take. His phone lights up continually with new messages while we’re all chatting but he doesn’t respond to a single one of them. There is no sense that he feels hassled by everyone else’s reluctance to put their name to a task—he’s happy to oblige—but I sense he is rushing through the practicalities so we can get to my part.

“Fantastic!” says Davina. “That’s us done for another six months then. Maggie!” She stands and Jake moves quickly to intercept her.

“Actually, I think there might be something Jayne wanted to add?” He looks at me encouragingly.

I shuffle forward on the sofa, gripping my hands in my lap. “Yes. Um. You all saw the note I sent you recently?” There is no ripple of recognition from Davina or Olivia. “About Meredith, our neighbor on the first floor.” I continue.

I immediately see Olivia’s shoulders drop, like we’ve dealt with this issue already and there can’t be anything more to say. Davina slumps back into her chair, disappointed by the unexpected extension to the meeting. There’s not much she can do, though, seeing as Maggie has failed to appear.

“I know you are all incredibly busy.”

“That’s a major understatement,” scoffs Olivia. “I’m not sure I can actually recall the last time I had a full day off. It’s relentless.”

“I know, and I’m sorry to ask, but I do think Meredith needs our help.”

“In what way?” asks Davina. “What can we realistically do that her own family can’t?”

“Well, she’s struggling and doesn’t seem to have any help. Her apartment is incredibly untidy.” But I can see this isn’t going to persuade them.

“Worse than mine?” asks Davina flippantly.

“It’s different, Davina. Your apartment is lived-in. It’s a home for a busy family. It would be odd if there wasn’t some clutter, things to put away. But Meredith’s is chaotic . There is little, if any, logic to where things are placed, except in…” I’m not sure whether to expose her memory room, it feels so personal and not really my information to share. “It’s messy. And she’s the same.”

“She’s still playing that movie on loop,” adds Olivia. “It’s the one with Julia Roberts. She gets sick and falls out with her mother, can’t remember the name of it now, but why does she watch it so many times—and so loudly?”

“I don’t know, but I just hoped as a building we might find a way to come together, to make sure she’s okay. Maybe there’s a rota for when we can all check in on her. Could we help her with some food? What if we all cooked an extra portion of what we are having for our dinner each night. That would really help.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” asks Davina, “but she’s not even that old, is she? What, late sixties, perhaps?”

I flick my eyes to Jake, whose attention is focused squarely on me. He’s nodding reassuringly.

“Yes, probably, but I’ve seen a lot that doesn’t add up,” I continue. “Margot darted into her apartment one morning and that’s when I started to get a sense of quite how bad things are.”

“In what way?” asks Davina.

“She’ll wear the same clothes over several days, despite the fact they are obviously dirty. There are piles of unopened post, no food in the cupboards, burned-out saucepans. I think I need to get in there and give it all a really good tidy-up for her.”

Olivia has started to shake her head. I’ve lost her already.

“Please, Olivia, there’s more.” I look to Jake to see if he might step in and help convince her, but he seems to feel this needs to come from me. “If we could just give a little bit of our time, of ourselves. Maybe we would all benefit from it?”

“Tidying up is probably the last thing you should do,” Olivia says urgently. “Don’t tidy anything. She needs the mess. The point is, it’s not a mess to her.”

“What d’you mean?” I wonder for a second if Olivia has seen Meredith’s apartment for herself.

She takes a prolonged deep breath, looks at each of us, and then begins to speak, much slower this time.

“My mum was diagnosed with dementia three years ago. She died last year.” She says the last bit mechanically, without much feeling at all.

My mouth drops open. Jake’s gaze shifts for the first time from me to Olivia.

“Oh, Olivia, I’m so sorry,” says Davina. “That must have been incredibly hard.”

“It was. It still is, to be honest. She was about the same age as Meredith and it just feels far too young. I wasn’t ready for it at all but keeping busy helps me…avoid…wallowing in it, I suppose.”

I watch her swallow hard. She wants to continue but she’s worried the tears will come if she stops focusing all her energy on preventing them.

“My point is, she was doing all the things you are describing. If Meredith is the same, then she needs to be properly diagnosed. That’s what will help her, not a bunch of ill-qualified neighbors dropping their leftovers off at her front door a few times a week. I mean, has she even seen a doctor?”

“She says so, yes. But I’m not sure it was recently. I feel she’d have more help in place if it was.”

“Well, she needs to. We can’t responsibly help someone when we don’t know what we’re dealing with, can we? And besides, I’m sorry to be so blunt but I don’t have the time. I work every day and some nights, too, and I can’t add anything else into my week. As you know, I don’t have the time to walk my own dog.”

I feared this would be the response. But I am also a little shocked. It feels like such a cold reaction. I know now this will be especially hard for Olivia, but she has so much knowledge to bring that will help Meredith. Surely, she can see that.

Davina doesn’t say a word, but I watch her studying Olivia’s face, drawing her own conclusions.

I have no choice but to plow on.

“I can contact her GP, that’s a good idea. I’m pretty sure I saw a doctor’s card stuck to the fridge door.”

“Even if you can just arrange for them to call her, that would help. If she’s as bad as you say, they will pick up the signs, I’m sure.” Olivia starts to gather her things again, readying to leave.

“But it’s also everyday assistance she needs from us. Maybe we can all do a bit of that too?” I cast my eyes around the room, trying to convey I don’t think this all has to come from Olivia.

She shakes her head.

“Mum’s decline was very rapid in the end. She’d be a constant danger to herself if she was left to it. She’d go out at night without telling anyone and would be gone for hours, or forget she left the bath running. It was frightening, we couldn’t trust her to care for herself. None of us can be responsible for that.”

“I’m sorry, Olivia. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been to watch. But I’m not sure Meredith is quite at that stage yet.” I plead, “Maybe we can all help to make sure she never gets to it?”

“You can’t stop or cure dementia, Jayne. That’s not how it works.” Her tone is harder now. She’s getting annoyed with me, irritated by my lack of understanding of the subject. “Look, I’m no expert, but if that’s what she has, then she will only get worse, not better. Mum got very angry with everyone too. She was convinced people were conspiring against her, making plans for her behind her back. She hated feeling left out of those decisions. It made everything worse, so I think you need to be very careful about deciding what may or may not be best for her.”

I notice she is placing all the decision-making on me, determined not to be a part of it.

“I saw a letter, when I was in her apartment.” I was hoping not to have to admit I’ve read Meredith’s mail, but if I stand any chance of persuading them all, I need to explain everything. “It was addressed to her husband, William, from his solicitor. It references their daughter, Fiona. I got the sense from Meredith that she isn’t around much, but if we could track her down and make it clear how Meredith is living, then surely, she will help. Carina at the flower shop has already agreed to help with that. But has anyone ever seen Fiona? Does she visit at all?”

I look at a room of shaking heads. I shouldn’t be surprised. Jake is a busy entrepreneur. Olivia is a workaholic. Davina is juggling highly irregular work hours with the needs of two young girls. Why would anyone notice anything beyond their own daily to-do list?

“Couldn’t it just be that William and Fiona are together?” Davina looks like she’s stating the obvious, but honestly, this hadn’t occurred to me. “That he’s left and is staying with her?”

“Perhaps?” It seems unlikely but possible. “Either way, Fiona wouldn’t be hard to find, would she, if we all put our heads together?” I prompt. “Meredith led me to believe she is in London, and if her surname is the same then we’re halfway there already.”

No one offers any other suggestions, so I say I’ll also make contact with the solicitor if they can all just please think about how else they might help Meredith day to day, however small, a suggestion that is met with no clear sign of commitment from any of them beyond Jake, who kindly adds, “You’ve got my full support, Jayne, whatever you need.”

I am about to mount a robust final plea when there is a very gentle knock on the door. We all sit still, looking at one another, all slowly thinking the same thing.

“You didn’t invite Meredith to this meeting, did you, Jake?” I whisper across the room at him.

His hand is over his mouth. “I just sent the email to the usual residents’ chain without thinking.”

“She was definitely on it,” confirms Davina. “I saw her name.”

“It won’t be her,” I say confidently. “I don’t think she is exactly checking her email inbox every morning.”

But when I open the door it is Meredith standing there, her face wet with tears. “Is this my apartment?” she asks as she starts to shuffle inside. “I’ve tried my keys in some of the other doors and none of them will open.”

“Oh no, it’s not.” I falter. “It’s where I live. It’s Jayne, Meredith. Do you remember we took that lovely walk to the park together?”

She looks closely at my face, her own completely expressionless. “I don’t know a Jayne,” she adds. “Is William here? I think we need to get back to London.”

Jake steps in. “Mrs.Chalis, I can take you home. I know exactly where your apartment is.” She doesn’t respond at first, like she hasn’t registered the sound of her own name. But then Jake’s decisiveness seems to put her at ease. “If that’s okay with you, Meredith? I’ll walk you home now.”

Meredith’s eyes travel across every one of the faces in the room, waiting for a glimmer of recognition, I think. When none comes, she relents. “Okay. But can you let William know I’ve gone home?” she says to me.

As the door is closing behind them, I hear Meredith plead with Jake not to mention this to Fiona. “She doesn’t know, and we don’t want to upset her. That’s what we agreed.”

I look at Davina and Olivia, appealing to them to do something. Neither of them says a word for a minute. “She needs us,” I urge them both. “There are dress sketches in her apartment that are laid out in a very specific date-and-location order. Each one has writing on it that I’m pretty sure is from William. I could be completely wrong, but their placement seems very deliberate, like he or they wanted them to be found, to be seen like that. I think they’re intended to help.” I hold back on mentioning Diana for now. Carina may have found the connection exciting but I’m not so sure Olivia or Davina will. It may just make Meredith sound even more detached from reality.

“Add to that the fact that her husband appears to be missing and we have a daughter who never visits. How is Meredith ever going to unravel any of this without our help?”

“I can carve out some time in my week,” Davina finally says. “It won’t be much, but something. Food won’t be a problem, there’s always something I can bring home from events.” Her face drops. “We should have done this a while ago by the looks of it. Olivia? If your suspicions are right, you’re the only one of us with any direct experience at this.”

“Maybe, but seeing Meredith only makes me more convinced that this is not a job for us.” Olivia is making no apology for her lack of commitment. “I think it’s really admirable that you want to take it on, Jayne, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to join you. I’ve spent a lot of time trying not to think about this horrible illness. I can tell you what I know when and if it’s relevant, but that’s as far as it goes for me. There are reasons why I fill my days and nights with an insurmountable pile of work. And I do help. Just not in the way you think I do. I cannot, in good conscience, say yes to this when I think it’s a mistake.” Olivia is very measured, seemingly not at all moved by the sight of Meredith in tears, unable to remember which door in this house leads to her own apartment, and I know I have no option but to relent.

I look to Davina, who is giving nothing away. “Fair enough, Olivia. That’s your decision and we will respect it. But please, if there is anything that you think we need to know, it would be incredibly helpful if you could share it with us. We won’t ask any more of you than that.”

“The dress sketches sound interesting—and important if Meredith has made a point of displaying them in the way you describe, Jayne. I haven’t seen them, so I don’t know, but they sound to me like a good place to start.” I sense that Olivia is trying to be helpful in the best way she can. “There is lots of assistance out there, I know that from the helpline shifts I do at the Live Well Center.” And then when we look blankly at her she adds, “You’ve probably walked past it a million times, it’s just behind the Abbey. I’ve put business cards in the hallway if anyone ever needs one.”

We all exchange glances. I’m not sure anyone knew this about Olivia. I recall seeing the cards offering an unjudgmental ear , but have never given it much thought. She senses our surprise and answers the question before anyone has a chance to ask it.

“I volunteer there, helping people build an action plan to get out of whatever trouble they’re in. It might be helping someone get on the road to clearing their debts or supplying a woman with contact details for all the local refuges and making her aware of the support she’s entitled to. Supplying the practical information is the easy bit, but what a lot of people need is a voice at the end of the line, an opportunity to say what they may not be telling anyone else.”

“Wow, I had no idea you do that.” I am genuinely stunned this is the same woman who lacks the time for eye contact when I collect Teddy some mornings. Then I think about how much I love delivering flowers to people, getting that glimpse into their lives on the sad as well as the happy days—and how unsatisfying it can be when the brief transaction on a doorstep prevents me saying everything I’d like to. How sometimes I would dearly love to offer them my ear for an hour or two. I make a mental note to take one of the business cards from the entrance hallway.

“There’s probably a lot you don’t know about me.” Olivia says this like it bothers her, but she has always seemed so preoccupied and busy, like making time to get to know her neighbors was never exactly a priority. “I guess we could say the same for all of us. Anyway, we’re always looking for extra volunteers if anyone ever fancies it. Maybe listening is your superpower, Jayne?”

“Well, it may not be a bad thing Meredith saw us all together tonight,” Davina says, bringing us back to the task at hand. “If we’re going to help her, we need to include her. We need to be led by her and what she needs.”

At this point Maggie strides back into the room, her lips covered in a bright orange powder from the cheese puffs I also left out.

“I feel really sick,” she groans.

“Which sounds like my cue to get going,” says Davina. “Jayne, why don’t you let me tackle the solicitor? You can’t do everything yourself. And while you only ever see me failing to control my children, believe it or not, I can be very charming and persuasive when I put my mind to it.”

“Thank you, Davina, that would be wonderfully helpful. Okay, let’s meet again in the next couple of days,” I suggest. “Olivia, maybe you can let us know what did and didn’t work for your mum ahead of our meeting?”

“Okay, there’s lots I can share just as long as you understand I won’t be at the meeting.”

“We can all meet at the coach house if that works for everyone?” Jake is back with us.

“Is Meredith okay?” Davina asks.

“I think so, but very confused. And you’re right about the apartment, Jayne, it’s in a shocking state.”

The others say good night and leave as Jake gathers the empty coffee mugs and takes them through to the kitchen for me. When he returns, he’s smiling.

“What?” There can’t be much in my kitchen to amuse him.

“Nothing, that’s just a very cute baby snap, that’s all.”

He’s obviously seen the Polaroid on the fridge, and my heart sinks.

“Good night, Jake.”

I watch his smile fade as he turns to leave.