Where the Memories Lie

 

 

‘I know. It’s been doing the rounds at the surgery for months.

 

Why don’t you pop in for a blood test, though? Just to be on the safe side?’

 

‘Yeah. I think I will when we get a minute.’ The music got louder the closer she got to Charlotte’s room. ‘Turn that off now,’ Nadia said to her. ‘Here she is, Liv. Don’t keep her on the phone long.’

 

‘OK. I won’t see you in the morning, though. I’m on an eight till one shift so we can’t walk the dogs together.’

 

‘OK. Night.’

 

‘Hi, Aunty Olivia,’ Charlotte came on the phone.

 

At sixteen, she was too old to call me Aunty, I thought. Or maybe I was too young to be called Aunty. Weren’t your forties supposed to be the new thirties these days? I’d told her just to call me Liv or Olivia, but she still insisted, saying she thought it sounded rude otherwise.

 

‘Hey, Charlotte. Who was that you were listening to?

 

‘Macklemore.’

 

‘Cool.’

 

She laughed. ‘It’s not cool to say cool, anymore.’

 

‘Whatever. Talk to the hand.’ Yes, I’d picked up a few things from those annoying kids’ shows Anna watched.

 

She laughed again.

 

‘I just wanted to ask you about the Georgia who’s in your class.’

 

‘There isn’t a Georgia in my class. She’s called Georgina. Why?’

 

‘Oh, nothing. Just me being stupid. Thanks for your help.

 

Night, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

 

30

 

Where the Memories Lie ‘Night.’

 

So that was that, then. There was no missing girl called Georgia that Tom knew. It was completely crazy to ever think there would be. He’d just come across the same story I had and it had become distorted in his mind.

 

31

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

The Portesham Doctor’s Surgery was in a purpose built modern and bright building in the village. When I dis-covered I was pregnant for the seventh time with Anna I’d given up my nursing job at Dorchester County Hospital in the A&E department. I’d passed my twelve-week danger time and wasn’t going to jeopardise the pregnancy in any way, not after all the miscarriages. I took it easy, ate healthy food, got plenty of rest.

 

But when Anna started primary school and a practice nurse job had come up in the village, it was the ideal solution. Half a day was perfect for me.

 

I sat in the nurses’ examination room with a cup of steaming coffee, scrolling through my appointments.

 

Rose Quinn, the mother of my old friend Katie, was due in at 11.30 a.m. She was an alcoholic, rarely venturing out of the house unless it was to buy booze at the little village shop. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her. Katie’s dad Jack, also an alcoholic, had died a couple of years ago from liver failure. Their drinking had been going on for a long time, since Katie and I were both kids, but even though we were best friends, she never really talked about her home life to me. She said it was depressing and embarrassing Where the Memories Lie having them as parents. Katie learned to cover up the fact that she looked after herself and the house single-handedly most of the time.

 

A job no child should have to do. In fact, she was so good at hiding and covering things up I didn’t even realise what had been going on until much later.

 

The morning passed in a flurry of new patient health checks, assessing and treating minor injuries and giving advice for the diabetic clinic. When Rose entered the room I realised just how much weight she’d lost since the last time I’d seen her. Her eyes were dark hollow sockets, her cheekbones sharp and jutting. She wore leggings with holes in them, her legs skinnier than Anna’s, and a big baggy dark green jumper, even though we were actually being treated to a full-blown summer this year ? lucky us ? and it was about twenty-eight degrees Celsius outside.