Free The Art of Forgetting by Julie McLaren Page B

her.
    “It’s lovely,” said the man beside her. “A real work of art. You must be very proud.”
    Laura noted that he was the first person to speak directly to her mother and not through herself or Ruby, who was accompanying them on their tour of the garden, just to be on the safe side. She had admired the way he looked straight at her and engaged her attention, as if she were a real, normal person. She vowed to do the same with the other residents from now on.
    She doesn’t get to tell Kelly that sort of detail, however. Although she has listened and sympathised, there is something else she wants to talk about. Laura is tired and thinking about a nice, relaxing bath but she can hardly cut her off when she has been so good.
    “No, it’s fine,” she says. “Nothing bad I hope? Things OK at school?”
    Kelly reassures her that there is nothing to worry about. School is fine, everything is fine.
    “It’s just that we seem to have let the Linda thing go off the boil,” she says. “I know you’ve been tied up with Mum and the house and I’ve got these extra hours, but do you think we can really just let it go?”
    Laura does think exactly that. Where else could they take it anyway? Their mother’s memory and ability to concentrate are deteriorating by the day and they have no more leads. They’ve already upset poor Hilda and there is nothing to be gained by upsetting her again. She is very firm with Kelly as she says all this, and she can hear the hardness in her own voice, especially as Kelly does not agree.
    “Can’t we just try to locate the man? What was his name? Gordon something or other, wasn’t it? Just to find out if he is still alive? If he’s not, then I promise I will shut up about it. There really would be nothing else we could do. But if he’s still alive … I don’t know. Could you at least think about it? Now Mum is settled and most of the rubbish is out of the house …?”
    Normally, Laura would agree, just to avoid the conflict. Often, she finds, things go away if you ignore them for long enough. However, something tells her that Kelly isn’t about to let this drop.
    “No, I’m sorry Kelly, but I’m not doing it. I don’t think any of you realise what my life is like at the moment. I don’t have a minute to myself, not one minute. I had more time when I was working!”
    She continues, all the frustration boiling over, until Kelly manages, at last, to get a word in and calm her down.
    “It’s fine, I’m sorry,” she says. “I should have understood the strain you’re under and it was very thoughtless of me. Forget I said it!”
    They part amicably, as they always do. Laura in particular can never bear to leave an argument unresolved and Kelly has apologised so all is well. However, that does not prevent this being added to Laura’s long list of things to worry about as she tries to sleep. Was she right to stand up for herself, to refuse yet another task? Is Kelly right? Do they have a duty to resolve the Linda mystery before it is too late and everyone concerned is either dead or incapable of remembering what happened?
    Laura drifts into sleep, the question unanswered. She finds herself in a garden, not unlike the garden at Cavendish House, but there is a path at the bottom and she knows that this leads to her mother’s house. She needs to get to the house, although she cannot remember why, but every time she sets off she takes a wrong turn and ends up on the terrace. A little old woman is holding out a plastic bowl to her and saying something, but she cannot hear what it is. Somehow, she knows that if she takes the bowl, she will never be able to find the house. She will have to stay here and gather leaves and she does not want that. A wave of panic rushes over her and she dashes the bowl from the old woman’s hand. The old woman’s mouth opens; it is a great ‘O’ of silent surprise and the inside is as black as a starless night.
    Suddenly, she is in her mother’s