Chapters (55)
- Cover
- ANNA WHARTON
- Dedication page
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
- Praise
- THE IMPOSTER
Chloe and Nan have been visiting the cemetery every weekend for as long as she can remember, but dementia has changed everything. With a disease like that, old routines must give way to new ones. Except, Chloe doesn’t like change. She scratches at her arm as she squeezes the last of the toothpaste from the tube, an itch inside she can’t reach. Toothpaste is another thing to add to the shopping list, and, she decides, another reason she can’t go to the cemetery this morning.
She takes the Angela Kyle file with her when she leaves home, company for the bus journey to the supermarket. When she arrives she wanders aimlessly between parents pushing screaming toddlers in trolleys or scolding older children taking a ride on the end of them. Those are the types of families she can stomach; the ones who walk together in neat little sets, pushing the trolley in sync, make her aware of even the skin that covers her. She wriggles uncomfortably within it. Every time.
In the cereal aisle, a little girl in stripy dungarees is trying to persuade her mum to buy a brightly coloured packet of princess cereal. Chloe stands, her basket suspended on her arm, as she watches them. She thinks of Maureen Kyle. What she would give to have a similar argument with her daughter given her time again? Surely she’d let her have her way. As the little girl pleads with her mother, Chloe is tempted to remind the woman that life is short – what does a box of cereal matter? But the woman has now answered her phone, tucking it between her neck and her ear, and she’s turned her back on her daughter. Chloe shakes her head and thinks of the split second Patrick turned around. The girl starts to wander as her mother runs through her shopping list with the person on the end of the line. Chloe follows her. The little girl picks up more colourful boxes of cereal. She calls to her mother to show her, but her mother barely notices. Chloe steps forward, just an inch or so. She looks around her. If only someone had intervened when they saw Angela on her own, might the Kyles’ story have ended differently? The little girl wanders further from her mother, towards packets of multi-coloured corn loops. Chloe traces her footsteps, looking back at the mother every few seconds. Under her arm she feels the weight of the Kyle file in her bag. For all this mother knows, somebody could be watching this little girl now. They could be stalking her, ready to pounce when they’re sure her mother is distracted enough not to notice.
‘Mamma,’ the little girl calls. She picks up a box of cereal, turning it upside down and shaking it, delighting at the sound.