Remember Me?

There’s a pause, then without looking at either of us, Mum gets up, roots in a drawer, and finds a blank, shiny disc. She puts it into the machine and the three of us sit back.

“Darlings.” Dad is on the screen again, in the same room as in the other DVD, in the same plushy dressing gown. The same charming twinkle as he faces the camera. “If you’re watching this, I’ve popped it. And there’s something you should know. But this one’s not for…public consumption, shall we say.” He takes a deep puff on his cigar, frowning regretfully. “There’s been a bit of a catastrophe on the old moolah front. Didn’t mean to land you in it. You girls are clever-you’ll find a way to sort it out.” He considers for a moment. “But if you’re stuck, ask old Dickie Hawford. He should be good for a bit. Cheers, m’dears.” He lifts his glass up-then the screen goes dark. I wheel around to Mum.

“What did he mean, ‘catastrophe’?”

“He meant he’d remortgaged the entire house.” Her voice is trembling. “That was his real message. That DVD arrived in the post a week after the funeral. But it was too late! The bailiffs had visited! What were we supposed to do?” She’s stroking the whippet harder and harder, until, with a sudden yelp, it escapes from her grasp.

“So…what did we do?”

“We would have had to sell up. Move to another area. Amy would have been taken out of school…” Her hands are fluttering around her face again. “So my brother very kindly stepped in. And so did my sister. And…and so did you. You said you’d pay off the mortgage. As much as you could afford.”

“Me?”

I sink back into the sofa, my mind reeling with shock, trying to fit this into the picture. I agreed to pay off Dad’s debts.

“Is it an offshore mortgage?” I say suddenly. “Is the bank called Uni…something?”

She nods. “Most of Daddy’s dealings were offshore. Trying to avoid the tax man. I don’t know why he couldn’t just be honest-”

“Said the woman who kept her daughter in the dark!” expostulates Jon. “How can you even say that?”

I can’t help catching some of his exasperation.

“Mum, you knew I couldn’t remember the funeral. You didn’t tell me any of this. Can’t you see how it might have…made things clearer for me? I had no idea where that money was going.”

“It’s been very difficult!” Mum’s eyes are swiveling from side to side. “I’ve been trying to keep it quiet for Amy’s sake.”

“But-” I break off as something else even darker occurs to me. “Mum…I have another question. Was Dad ever in prison?”

Mum winces as though I’ve trodden on her toe.

“Briefly, darling. A long time ago…It was a misunderstanding. Let’s not dwell on that. I’ll make some more coffee.”

“No!” In frustration I leap to my feet and stand right in front of her, trying to get her single-minded attention. “Mum, listen! You can’t just live in a bubble, pretending nothing’s happened. Amy’s right! You have to break out of this…this time warp.”

“Lexi!” Mum says sharply, but I ignore her.

“Amy heard about Dad going to prison. She got the idea it’s cool. No wonder she’s been getting in so much trouble… Jesus!” Suddenly the pieces of my life are slotting together like a Tetris puzzle. “That’s why I suddenly got ambitious. That’s why I was so single-minded. That funeral changed everything.”

“You told me what happened,” Jon says. “When the bailiffs arrived, she went to bits.” He glances scornfully at Mum. “You had to hold them off, Lexi; you had to make the decisions. You took it all on yourself.”

“Stop looking at me as though it’s all my fault!” Mum suddenly cries out, her voice shrill and quivering. “Stop heaping blame on me! You have no idea about my life, none! Your father, that man-”

She breaks off, the words hanging in the air, and I catch my breath as her blue eyes meet mine. For the first time that I can remember, my mother sounds…true.

The room is totally still. I hardly dare speak.

“What about Dad?” My sotto voce whisper still feels too loud. “Mum, tell me.”

But it’s too late. Already the moment’s over. Mum’s eyes are shifting sideways, avoiding me. With a sudden pang I see her as though for the first time: her hair girlish in its Alice band, her hands wrinkled, Dad’s ring still on her finger. Even as I watch, she’s feeling for a dog’s head and starting to pat it.

“It’s nearly lunchtime, Agnes!” Her voice is bright and brittle. “Let’s see what we can find you-”

“Mum, please.” I take a step forward. “You can’t stop there. What were you going to say?”

I don’t know what exactly I’m hoping for-but as she looks up I can tell I’m not going to get it. Her face is opaque again, as though nothing just happened.

“I was simply going to say”-already she’s regaining her old martyred spirit-“that before you start blaming me for everything in your life, Lexi, that chap had a lot to answer for. That boyfriend of yours at the funeral. Dave? David? He’s the one you should be accusing.”

“Loser Dave?” I stare at her, thrown. “But…Loser Dave wasn’t at the funeral. He told me he offered to come but I turned him down. He said…” I peter out as I see Jon just shaking his head, his eyes raised to heaven.

“What else did he tell you?”

“He said we broke up that morning, and that it was beautiful, and that he gave me a single rose…” Oh God. What was I thinking, even half-believing him? “Excuse me.”

I march outside into the drive, fueled with frustration at Mum, at Dad, at myself for being so gullible. Whipping my mobile phone from my pocket, I direct-dial Loser Dave’s office.

“Auto Repair Workshop,” comes his businesslike voice down the line. “Dave Lewis at your service.”

“Loser Dave, it’s me,” I say, my voice steely. “Lexi. I need to hear about our breakup again. And this time I need to hear the truth.”

“Babe, I told you the truth.” He sounds supremely confident. “You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”

I want to wallop him.

“Listen, you fuckhead,” I say in slow, furious tones. “I’m at the neurological specialist’s office right now, okay? They say someone has been giving me wrong information and it’s messing up my neural memory pathways. And if it isn’t corrected, I’ll get permanent brain damage.”

“Jesus.” He sounds shaken. “Straight up?”

He really is stupider than one of Mum’s whippets.

“Yeah. The specialist’s with me right now, trying to correct my memory circuits. So maybe you want to try again with the truth? Or maybe you’d like to speak to the doctor?”

“No! Okay!” He sounds totally u

“Protect me from what? Did you come to the funeral?”

“Yeah, I came along,” he says after a pause. “I was handing out canapés. Being helpful. Giving you support.”

“And then what happened?”

“Then I…” He clears his throat.

“What?”

“Shagged one of the waitresses. It was the emotional stress!” he adds defensively. “It makes us all do crazy things. I thought I’d locked the door-”

“I walked in on you?” I say in disbelief.

“Yeah. We weren’t naked or anything. Well, obviously a bit-”

“Stop!” I thrust the phone away from me.

I need a few moments to take all this in. Breathing hard, I crunch over the gravel, sit down on the garden wall, and look at the field of sheep opposite, ignoring the “Lexi! Lexi!” coming from the phone.

I caught Loser Dave two-timing me. Well, of course I did. I’m not even that surprised.

At last I lift the phone back to my ear. “So, how did I react? And don’t say I gave you a rose and it was beautiful.”

“Well.” Loser Dave breathes out. “To be honest, you went ballistic. You started yelling about your life. Your whole life had to change, it was all crap, you hated me, you hated everything… I’m telling you, Lexi, it was extreme. I tried to calm you down, give you a prawn sandwich. But you weren’t interested. You stormed out.”