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Then she saw a baby picture she had never seen before. Studying it, she saw the familiar blonde curls and realized it must be her. She was smiling and looked content in a bright yellow sundress in a garden that didn’t look like Meadowbank’s.That’s strange, she thought to herself.I wonder why I’ve never seen it before and why it’s tucked in here. She was about to bundle the pictures up and take them downstairs to show her dad, Steve and the kids when she noticed an official looking envelope.
Kirsty reached for it and gingerly slid her finger under the rim, pulling out the yellowing and musty smelling paper. Uncurling it, she squinted, wishing she had her glasses on so she could see properly, but she could just about make out the words. She had to read it several times to make sure. Then she looked back in the box and saw a newspaper cutting. Scanning it she gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Afterwards she sat in the stillness of the attic for a while until she heard the kids calling for her.
Now, as she looked out the window, she thought about the contents of the letter and knew that at some stage she would need to share it with her sisters.After the wedding, she told herself.After the wedding.
Chapter Twenty
Amy couldn’t help but notice that Kirsty’s smile was a little more strained than usual and that she had a gentle fragility about her. She knew she had a lot on her plate, and it upset her to see her normally confident big sister like this.
‘Sometimes I think I’m imagining it with Dad,’ Kirsty told her after they visited him yesterday.
Amy agreed that he had seemed his usual self and was over the moon to see his youngest daughter. ‘How marvellous to have you with us, darling,’ he had said. ‘Oh, how I have missed you, my baby girl.’ He had clutched Amy close and for a moment she wondered if he would let her go. Amy had cringed slightly at his words as she was all too aware how much Kirsty did for their dad. Yet she had just arrived, after a couple of years absent, it was understandable that he was treating her like a long-lost celebrity daughter.
‘He seemed perfectly fine, didn’t he?’ said Kirsty as they’d walked home.
Amy nodded. ‘Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t believe what you’re saying. If Dad does have signs of dementia, then it doesn’t mean that he will be forgetful every day. It is different for everyone.’
Kirsty frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Exactly that. There are no two cases the same. I think there’s so much stigma around it that people automatically assume it’s about memory loss, but we need to remember that everyone will be different.’
Kirsty looked at her for a moment. ‘What made you so wise?’
Amy shrugged. ‘I had a couple of yoga clients in my senior class who had dementia. One had Alzheimer’s that affected her sight rather than her memory. The other one had early vascular dementia which meant she started to get a bit disorientated. But they were both very much in the present and knew who they were and where they were. If that makes sense?’
Kirsty sighed, her face creased with anxiety. ‘I just worry about him, Amy. What happens if things get worse and he can no longer live on his own?’
‘We worry about that if and when it happens. All we can do is worry about this very moment right now. I am here to support you. So, let’s take one step at a time.’
‘My friend Nicola did say I should make an appointment with the doctor and take him in so they can run some tests.’
‘Let’s do that and I can come?’ suggested Amy. ‘Or I can take him?’
They walked along in silence and Amy felt a lump in her throat as she thought about her dad and the guilt she now felt. She should have come home sooner. It wasn’t fair to expect Kirsty to shoulder all of this on her own. In a bid to lighten the mood she suddenly blurted out, ‘Kirsty, the dresses. I keep meaning to ask you about the bridesmaid’s dresses. Was I supposed to buy one?’
Kirsty rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘Oh Amy, you never change, do you?’
‘What do you mean?’ she said, giving an indignant toss of her ponytail.
‘Do you really think Emma would have left it to us to sort out our own dresses?’
Amy’s shoulders sagged in relief. ‘Valid point. So where are they?’
‘In the cupboard at Meadowbank. One for you, me and Becky.’
‘Will we look like backing singers?’
Kirsty guffawed with laughter. ‘No! Of course not. Do you think Emma would want us all in matching dresses for the photos? My wedding was more than enough for those kinds of shots.’
Amy laughed. ‘You’re telling me! What are they like then?’
‘You can see when we get back. But they are lovely. You’ve nothing to worry about.’
Amy glanced up at the sky which had turned a deep shade of grey. ‘I hope this is just a brief downpour. I thought you said the weather has been good?’
‘It’s been glorious. But a quick shower will do all the plants good.’
Fat rain drops began to fall from the sky. ‘I’ll race you back!’ Amy cried, giggling as Kirsty had chased her up the hill to Meadowbank like old times.
