The Memory Dress

Chapter Nineteen

NINETEEN

Davina is dropping dried biscuits into Margot’s bowl, emptying some ready-made Marks & Spencer canapés onto a plate for us, and trying to scoop some ice cream out of a tub for Maggie. Lovely Carina has joined us in Davina’s kitchen, and the two of them have spent the past fifteen minutes sharing floral contacts. Jake is yet to arrive and I worry that he’s interpreted my decline of dinner as a sign that I don’t need or want him involved in our plans when the complete opposite it true—I’m just struggling to let him know it.

“Okay, let’s get down to business.” Davina is in proactive mode, as usual. “Given the success you had at the Albert Hall last week, I think the greatest help we can offer Meredith is to continue that memory gathering, don’t you? To help her rebuild her life story. I know it sounds ambitious and daunting, but have you given any more thought to taking her to some of the other dress locations, Jayne? Giving her the best possible chance to reconnect with those times in her life? To find William again, if only through her storytelling?”

Carina is nodding enthusiastically at Davina’s suggestion.

“It’s a great idea, but it would be a huge amount to organize,” I say. “I’d have to reassign the dog walking…”

“Willow can help with that,” offers Davina. “The school summer holidays are about to start and she’s desperate to earn some money, aren’t you?”

“I’d love to,” Willow pipes up from her keyboard.

“Obviously I can’t let Carina down either,” I say, looking in her direction. “She’s incredibly busy as it is.” I feel Davina needs a reminder that Carina is still my boss and we can’t assume she’ll be happy for me to disappear, leaving a gaping hole in the staff rota.

“I know lots of great freelance event florists, Carina, they are always looking for extra shifts.” I wonder if there has ever been a problem Davina couldn’t solve.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you. And to reassure you, Jayne, you can take as much time as you need. You know I am fully on board to help, and if that means a few days short-staffed or with someone new for a few hours, then it is a very small price to pay.”

Maybe I don’t look convinced enough, because she quickly adds, “And once you’ve revisited the London locations, maybe you can go to the others too? Northamptonshire, which is of course where Diana lived as a child at Althorp, such a magnificent country house. I went with a girlfriend one weekend when we fancied being tourists in our own country. We were there most of the day, it was so captivating. It has an incredible library and private art collection. And Sandringham, which I assume must mean the royal residence there? You know you can stay in the holiday cottages on the grounds, like you’re an actual guest of the royal family? You should go, you’ll have the best time.”

Before I get a chance to thank Carina for filling in some of the missing blanks I have yet to research, Davina jumps back in, refocusing us on the to-do list.

“What about the other practicalities, like her food? You said there was very little in her apartment when you checked. We can easily organize a weekly supermarket delivery for her, but we don’t know what she likes, if she has any food intolerances, and I hate to say it, but who will pay for it all? We know nothing about how she is managing her finances.”

“Well, judging by the amount of milk she’s getting through, I’d say she doesn’t have a problem with dairy,” I say, noticing that everyone’s eyes have moved over my shoulder to the doorway behind me.

“I’ll pay for it.” Jake spills through the door. “I’m so sorry I’m late, everyone, just a few problems that I had to iron out at work. I hope I haven’t missed much?” His smile bounces around the room and I watch as everyone mirrors it, even Willow, whose affections strike me as hard-won. I watch as Carina’s eyes widen in appreciation and then move to me, checking if I am enjoying the view as much as everyone else is.

“No, no, come in, take a seat.” Even Davina’s speedy efficiency seems to mellow and slow in Jake’s presence.

And I’m not sure why entirely but I’m irritated. He’s late. But because he’s made the over-the-top offer to pay Meredith’s food bills, no one is going to mention it. Isn’t it us, our time, and attention, that Meredith really needs? Not just someone to pick up the bills?

“Obviously I can get a lot of produce at cost price through the business but, well, that doesn’t matter. I’m happy to cover anything she needs while we sort everything else out for her. Hello, trouble.” He ruffles the top of Maggie’s hair, slides a canapé between his lips, and allows his eyes to find me, as if he’s asking my permission for this great act of generosity.

While I flounder, my mouth moving but no acceptance, unnecessary as it is, forthcoming, it is up to Davina, the master of being direct without ever sounding rude, to secure the offer.

“Wonderful, thank you, Jake, that beautifully solves that issue. Christ, we’re on a roll!”

“You shouldn’t say that!” chastises Maggie. “That’s basically a swear.”

“Yes, it is,” says Jake, nodding with a smirk.

“Quite right, Maggie, darling. I can only apologize. But I for one feel incredibly optimistic about all this, don’t you, Jayne?” It strikes me that Davina is one of those people who is at her very best when she is up against a challenge. She rises to it, motivating the rest of us, who might understandably shrink from it. But is it all a front? Is this the real Davina, all of her? Where is the one Maggie described so eloquently in her letter yesterday afternoon?

I look around the room at everyone, feeling for the first time since I arrived at my little apartment on Lansdown Crescent a growing sense of promise, and the power of this important common goal we all now share, our little community edging closer together to ease Meredith’s problems and hopefully some of our own too. Even Olivia, helping at arm’s length, hasn’t entirely rejected what we are trying to do.

“Yes, I do.” I’m so grateful that everyone has seen the value in what we are setting out to achieve together. “But there has been one small setback. Meredith mentioned that the GP called. She had just made herself some boiled eggs and soldiers for lunch, which she said the doctor seemed very impressed with. They had a lovely chat apparently, about the eighties back in London. She seemed very pleased with herself, so I suspect the call came at one of her more lucid moments. I can’t see a medical task force swinging into action off the back of it, is what I’m saying.”

“No matter,” says Davina, who is not about to have the wind knocked out of her sails. “It was always a long shot, but how about this trip? Are you up for it, Jayne, if I can cover your dog walking commitments?”

If she can then there seems very little reason not to give it a go, with the exception of perhaps one thing. “I’m not quite sure Meredith can cope with all the travel. She was wiped out when we got back from London late on Friday.”

“It’s a good point,” says Carina. “The last thing we want to do is make things worse for her.”

“Maybe that is something I can help with,” offers Jake. “You said a few of the locations are in London. I have a small place there and you’d be very welcome to use it. It would mean you wouldn’t have to keep coming back and forth on the train every day. I use it as a crash pad when I’m there for meetings, it’s nothing flashy—just a little mews house—but it’s big enough for you both. I’d really like to do this for you, Jayne. And obviously for Meredith, too, of course,” he quickly corrects himself. Jake looks at me hopefully, waiting for the smallest sign that I approve of the idea, that I appreciate the effort he is making.

“Or we could just stay in a hotel?” It’s only once the words are out of my mouth that I realize how incredibly ungrateful they sound. “What I mean is…” Jake’s ability to swoop in and cover the cost of everything is annoying me. I don’t want my or Meredith’s affections to be so easily bought. I look at the other faces in the room. I register my rudeness in the arch of Willow’s eyebrows and the way Davina has folded her arms across her chest. Only Carina, whose head has dipped to hide her smirk, seems to understand what I am driving at. “It’s very nice that you have that at your disposal, Jake, thank you but, well, it’s not necessary.”

I watch as Jake tries to slow the collapse of his smile and I know I have offended him. Of course, it’s up to Davina to say something that will scorch the awkwardness I’ve created.

“I think we should ask Meredith for her opinion. Let’s not allow this to be something that happens to her, that she has no control over or say in. Let’s include her in the decision-making from the very beginning. This is about her and for her and in many ways needs to be led by her. Let’s simply ask her where she would prefer to stay.”

“I completely agree.” Carina’s smile is so broad, she is clearly not anticipating a rejection from Meredith to the idea of a mini adventure, staying at Jake’s no doubt gorgeous mews house.

“Shall I knock on her door now and see if she would like to join us, to hear what we have to say?” I’d love an opportunity to leave the room and gather myself. “If you’re all agreeing to help, then she needs to meet you properly and start to learn to trust you, doesn’t she?”

“Exactly right,” agrees Davina.

“I was just looking through some photographs in my memory room,” announces Meredith as she opens the door to me.

“Would you like to show me?” I ask, adding, “It’s Jayne from upstairs,” in case she needs the reassurance.

“I found one of Fiona. My Fiona. Would you like to see that one?”

“I’d love to, Meredith.”

The image, when she hands it to me, is immediately unsettling. Fiona’s smile isn’t genuine. I’ve forced a hard grin enough times to feel it instinctively. It’s painted on, almost clown-like. A long way from real anyway, of that I’m sure, even if Meredith doesn’t recognize it. She’s cut off just below the shoulders, her hair scraped back into a tight, low ponytail, facing the camera straight on in a way that also seems overly posed. I turn the image over in my hands and see it’s dated 15 July 2017 with a brief note in pencil: I hope you are proud of me now? How strange. When was Meredith not proud of her? The thought seems entirely at odds with the woman I am slowly getting to know. She certainly seems proud of Fiona now.

“This is lovely, Meredith. Thank you for sharing it with me. I came because some of the other residents are all together having some drinks and nibbles, and there is someone else I would like to introduce you to, if that’s okay?”

Meredith nods, although I can tell her thoughts are still with the photograph, rather than my invitation. “Bring the picture with you if you’d like. I’m sure everyone would love to see Fiona too.”

My arm is looped through Meredith’s as I lead her into Davina’s kitchen. Someone has had a quick tidy-up in the ten minutes I have been gone. With the exception of the remaining canapés, all the clutter has been swiped from the island surface, making the place look a lot calmer and more welcoming. Far from looking nervous or intimidated, Meredith is beaming from ear to ear, thrilled to be out of her apartment and among friendly faces. Davina extends an arm to shake her hand and makes all the necessary introductions, including to Carina, who dispenses with formalities and immediately asks after the photograph Meredith is still clutching.

“Oh, who is this?”

I see the hesitation in the flare of Meredith’s eyes. She knows it’s her turn to speak but the word, or the name in this case, one she remembered so easily just a few minutes ago, has escaped her.

“Jayne?” She looks toward me and there is such sweet sorrow in the fact that she can remember my name and not her daughter’s.

“This is Meredith’s daughter, Fiona.” I aim my response directly at Carina. Now she knows the face she is searching for online.

Meredith turns it around so everyone can see it, her deep affection obvious.

“Oh, she looks happy,” says Davina, understanding that’s what the photo requires of Fiona. “Where was this taken, Meredith?”

“I wasn’t there.” The smile seems to cool on Meredith’s lips until she is the exact opposite of Fiona’s forced jollity.

The moment passes and we all take our seats again, Carina sneaking a quick snap of the Fiona picture after Meredith places it on the worktop.

I explain our plan while Meredith sits absorbed on the small green sofa at the end of the kitchen, taking it all in. It’s the area of the room that Maggie has commandeered as her own. The sofa faces a TV that’s mounted on the wall and there are shelves underneath it filled with all her art and craft materials, open jigsaw puzzle boxes, board games, and playing cards that have escaped from their packs. Maggie always seems to greedily fill the space, making it look inadequate for her needs. But Meredith looks tiny in it. Shrunken and losing the battle against the rogue clothing and toys that no doubt Maggie has ignored all requests to put away.

“It will probably take us a few days to make all the arrangements, but if you are in agreement, Meredith, I say we depart nice and early next Monday morning. And our first stop will be the Dorchester.”

“I like the sound of it very much. I’ll bring my essentials bag.”

“You can bring anything you need,” I reassure her. “So, do you like the idea of staying at Jake’s house, just you and I, or would you prefer a hotel?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t like hotels. They always make me feel so far from home. They’re always so full of other people’s memories, traces of the people who have passed before you. It’s confusing.”

“That’s decided then.” Clearly, for Davina, it was never in doubt. “Thank you, Jake, for making this possible.”

He ignores her comment and looks straight at me. “I just want to make this as easy as possible for you. For both of you.”

Maggie reappears, spies the abandoned canapés, and starts stuffing a selection into her pockets before she flops down on the sofa next to Meredith and introduces herself, spraying pastry crumbs everywhere.

“Have you eaten, Meredith?” Davina asks.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for William to get home,” she answers with a smile. “We always try to eat together.” I watch as Davina pauses, unsure whether to correct her or not, and then turns away, clearly moved by Meredith’s inability to accept the facts in front of her.

We all know that William isn’t coming home tonight, that she will sit alone for another evening, the same questions speeding through her mind, then relive the panic again tomorrow morning when she wakes and feels the untouched coolness of the sheet next to her.

“William protects me,” she suddenly adds. “He’s the legs and I’m the brains, that’s what he says. My other half. One can’t work without the other. I’m cooking a lovely stew for him.”

The words tumble from her so casually, and she has no awareness of the ripple of concern they cause around the room.

Davina’s head flicks urgently back toward me. Jake’s settles into both his hands. Carina and I share the same sorrowful look. Only Maggie is immune.

“You know he never gets jealous of Diana and me?” Meredith’s face lights up again, a sweeter memory filling her now.

“Sorry? What was that, Meredith?” Davina stops brushing crumbs from the island and walks around toward where Meredith is sitting.

“He’s very proud of me. Isn’t that lovely? I don’t suppose all husbands would be. I’m lucky. Sometimes I have to put her first, before everything else. She always requests me.” A flutter of pride crosses her face. “It makes her feel better, knowing I am waiting in the wings. And he has never once complained about it.”

“What else can you tell us about Diana, Meredith? What exactly was— is it that you do for her?” Davina takes a seat next to her on the sofa, reaches for Meredith’s hand, and draws her in a little closer.

“Whatever she needs. She’s fascinated that I’m having a girl. She always has so many questions about how it feels and how my planning is going. She checks I’m eating the right things and looking after myself, despite the long hours. She is missing William.”

There is a sharp moment of connection between everyone in the room that Meredith is blind to. Missing William . Diana’s elder son, Prince William. Was Diana seeing a lot less of the princes than she would have liked to? Did she confide those feelings to Meredith? Has Meredith confused another woman’s sadness for her own?

“But I can’t talk about the rest, that would be such a betrayal of trust, wouldn’t it?” She smiles at Davina, acknowledging the gentle way Davina has tried to extract valuable information that is not about to be freely shared. And Meredith’s right, it would be valuable, just not in the way she thinks.

“Let’s get you back then,” I say, and take Meredith’s hand and guide her up and off the sofa. But Maggie takes her other arm and holds her back, leaning into her to keep her weighted there. Now is not the time and all I can think about is the stew. How long has it been cooking? What temperature is the oven set to? Did she remember to peel the vegetables or take the meat out of its packaging? Has she even thought to put it in the oven?

Maggie whispers something in her ear that I just catch. “She’s a real-life fairy, you know. She’s going to help my mummy not be lonely anymore.”

“Another angel on earth. Whoever is in distress can call on me. I will come running wherever they are.” Maggie is absorbed by Meredith’s words.

Davina hears them, too, and looks at Meredith quizzically as we say our goodbyes.

“I’ll walk you back to your door if that’s okay? I’ve got some more calls to make and need to get going myself.” It is testament to how trusting Meredith has quickly become that she immediately drops my arm and loops hers through Jake’s. We all say our goodbyes and I promise I’ll see her again in the morning, although this is one visit I am honestly not looking forward to. Meredith may believe it to be as innocent as the others I have made, but this time, there will be a purpose to it that I’m not particularly proud of.

“What’s the theory then?” Carina asks as soon as the door closes behind Meredith and Jake. “That she worked for Diana in some capacity? Managing her social diary or as a member of her private household?”

“No.” My mind is racing back through all Meredith’s previous references to William. Has she said anything that would point more to Diana’s William and not her own? Not that I can recall. “I could be completely wrong, but I don’t think so. Her strongest memories center around the dresses themselves and not the occasions they were worn to. I think she and William were part of the team who helped to make them, although I’m not sure what exactly their roles were. But the point, I think, is that Meredith has to get there herself. I can’t tell her what I think, she needs to remember it. If I simply share my theories, there’s no reason for her to hang on to any of it, is there? She has to relive it so it’s more meaningful. If I can prompt her to revisit those times, then it may also lead her back to William, and to Fiona.” Willow reappears in search of leftovers and picks up the photograph Meredith has left on the worktop.

“It’s a shame she couldn’t remember anything more about it.” Carina takes it from Willow and starts to study it again, but it’s such a tight crop, there is very little in the background to provide a clue. “Because I have started the Facebook search, have a guess how many women are called Fiona Chalis.”

“Hundreds!” shouts Willow.

“Possibly thousands,” adds Davina.

“Well, in theory the list is almost endless because there are a surprisingly vast number of ways to spell both her names, complicated by the fact that some use a profile picture and some don’t. We knew this wouldn’t be a quick search but, honestly, it could take me months.”

“It looks like a graduation photo to me.” Willow casually swipes a handful of canapés and heads for the sofa.

“What?” I step closer to Carina, both of us scouring the image now.

“Look at what she’s wearing over a blazer. You can’t see it clearly, but it looks like a graduation stole, doesn’t it? That would be my guess.”

Davina joins us for another look. Willow could be right. I didn’t see it before, but there is fabric—blue and gold and what might be white fur edging—draped over Fiona’s shoulders, but it’s hard to be sure. I turn the image back over to reveal the date again: 15 July 2017.

“Well, that certainly places it in graduation season,” adds Davina. “And the idea that she wants her parents to be proud of her fits with that idea. If Willow is right, we need to work out where she graduated from. We have her name and the date, so if we knew the university, then she should be very easy to contact from there. Well done, Willow, you clever thing!”

“Let me see if I can trace it,” offers Carina. “We’ll have to assume she studied in the UK, and if so, there must be a gown supplier who could identify it if Google fails us.”

Everyone is ending the evening with a renewed sense of enthusiasm, everyone except me, and Davina can see it.

“Jayne? You don’t look happy, what’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about tomorrow.”

“What’s happening tomorrow, have I missed something?” She glances down at her notebook, knowing it’s unlikely she has. I just haven’t shared this with the group yet in case I change my mind and cancel the appointment. Now I have no choice.

“I’m taking Meredith to see her medical records at the doctor’s surgery.”

“Well, that’s great news, isn’t it?” asks Davina. “We could be really closing in on Fiona.”

“I had to pretend to be Meredith on the phone to make the appointment. All they asked me to confirm was my address and that was it, booked. I got a slot quickly because we don’t need to see a doctor. But Meredith knows nothing about it. I’ve no idea how she will react when we get there.”

I wait for everyone to leave, deliberately hanging back to have a private word with Davina.

“Is everything okay, Davina? Are you okay?” I ask as she’s throwing the last of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

“Absolutely fine, yes, all good, thank you.” She says this as she’s sweeping a hand across the work surface, collecting stray dirty cutlery and using her hip to push closed a drawer of pans.

“It’s just that something Maggie said yesterday afternoon made me wonder if perhaps…”

She freezes, mid-tidy, and I watch her sigh, irritated. Her head cocks to the right, her hand wedges at her hip. I open my mouth to head off any offense I may have accidently caused but she cuts me off.

“Don’t say it! I can see you’re about to and I don’t want to hear it.”

“Sorry, I was just going to—”

“You’ve lived in this building for months now, Jayne, and done so much for me in that time—and do you know how many times I have been able to help you?” She looks right into me, not waiting for an answer. “None. Doesn’t that feel just a little bit unfair to you? I can lean on you, but you can’t lean on me?”

“I don’t expect you to do anything for me, really I don’t. I don’t help you to get something in return.” I’m really sad if this is what she believes.

“I know.” Her tone softens again, the way it does when she is trying to take the sting out of a row with one of her girls. “And I know my workload means I’m not around much to be that helpful. But that’s not how friendship works, is it? Is it because I pay you to walk Margot? Does that complicate things? Because I can always find another dog walker.” It’s not a threat, it’s more of a concession. Finding another dog walker gives Davina another job to add to the hundreds she already juggles but I know she’ll do it if it makes me feel more comfortable with her.

“I really don’t want you to do that. Please don’t.”

“Then why is it so hard for you to accept help but you can give it out to anyone and everyone who needs it?” She looks genuinely confused by this.

“It’s not hard for me, it’s just—”

“In that case I don’t want you to offer to walk Margot for free, to take Maggie off my hands for another afternoon. Don’t clean my kitchen for me without even being asked to or paid for it. Not unless you are prepared to let me help you in return.” She uses both hands to push her hair off her face, looking exasperated—by me. “Otherwise this isn’t a friendship, is it? And I’d like it to be.”

I stay silently rooted to the spot, then I try to excuse myself so I can leave, but now she’s started, Davina isn’t going to stop until she feels her point has been understood.

“What I need is a friend, Jayne. Maybe you do too. Have a glass of wine with me one night. I just want to spend an evening with an adult who isn’t a client and not because there is something that needs doing.”

“I’d love to.” I feel the smile slowly blossoming across my face again.

“Great, because I’d love to listen to you.” She leans forward on her elbows on the worktop, drawing me back closer to her. “I want to know why you are not responding to every effort Jake is making to impress you—we all saw how you reacted when he offered to cover the cost of Meredith’s food bills and make his place in London available to you and, well, it doesn’t make any sense. Not to me anyway.” She shakes her head, her eyes searching mine. “I’d like to understand. I might surprise you, Jayne, and actually be able to help you work out why you won’t let this amazing man get a little closer to you. There is something stopping you, isn’t there?”

I can feel my entire body recoil from the suggestion. Davina takes a seat. She’s not done yet.

“When you’re not busy caring for everyone else, what is it that you’re worrying about before you close your eyes at night?” She raises a hand. “And don’t tell me it’s Meredith.”

I don’t know where to begin with it all, so I stand there opening and closing my mouth, until finally she saves me.

“Do you know what they used to call Diana? Her nickname in some corners of the press?”

I shake my head, wondering where she is going with this.

“The Trust Fund Cinderella. She had the means not to do the relatively undemanding jobs that she drifted through when she was younger. But she was drawn to them because they were roles that allowed her to get close to people without ever having to reveal much, if anything, about herself. They never challenged her emotionally. Does that remind you of anyone?”

Suddenly that drink together sounds a lot less appealing.