“It’s too early to say,” Olivia said quickly. “We’re just getting to know one another. Anyway.” She moved into the kitchen, deciding it was time to change the subject. “Enough about me. How are you?”

“I’m well, all things considered.” Tina followed her into the kitchen and filled the kettle. “In some ways, it’s almost a relief,” she explained as she carefully put the kettle on the stove, watching the open flame.

“What’s a relief, Mum?”

“The diagnosis.”

“You haven’t actually—”

“It’s coming, Olivia. You know that. Whether it’s now or the appointment after Christmas, or another test or scan after that. It’s coming. And it’s a relief.”

Olivia struggled to keep hold of her feelings as well as her expression. How could it possibly be a relief? She didn’t want to ask the question, yet her mother must have seen it in her face.

“I know it must be difficult for you to understand,” she said gently as she handed Olivia a cup of tea just as she liked it, milky and sweet. “But for so long I’ve been denying what was going on, even to myself. Especially to myself. I explained away a thousand little things because I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want to lose myself.”

“And now?” Olivia asked, struggling to keep her voice level. She felt as if she could burst into tears.

“Now I am starting to face that fear, and strangely, it’s not as overwhelmingly horrible as I thought.” She smiled at Olivia as she sipped her tea. “It’s still frightening, and of course I’d rather it wasn’t happening, but besides all that I’m okay. At least now I don’t have to pretend I have it all together.”

“I wish you’d never pretended, Mum. If I’d known, I could have helped...”

“Pretending was an instinct. But it made me even more anxious, always trying to cover how lost I felt, and I’m sorry for that. I know I haven’t seen myself these last few months, and now, bizarrely, I feel more like myself. Even if I can’t remember how to draw a clock.” Tina’s lips trembled and Olivia’s heart ached. No matter how brave or pragmatic her mother was being now, this was still hard. It was terrifying.

“How long had you been pretending?” she asked. “Do you reckon?”

Tina pursed her lips as she sat back in her seat. “I don’t know. Longer, perhaps, than I even realise now. Too long.”

“When you asked me to come back and help out at the shop...” Tina nodded and Olivia swallowed hard. That had been nearly two years ago. “Well, the important thing now is to look to the future,” Olivia said as briskly as she could. “I’ve done a little research online, Mum, and there are ways to boost your memory and stave off the worst of the symptoms. That is,” she added hurriedly, “if you even—”

“Olivia,” Tina cut her off gently. “I do.”

“Well, still. It’s not the end of the world. People can live with—with dementia for a long time.” But it had already been two years.