The Things That Matter by Andrea Michael

Author:Andrea Michael [Michael, Andrea]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008370220
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

The minute I slid into the car, I felt a wave of exhaustion overcome me.

‘It’s hard, isn’t it? When you want to be angry with someone and she doesn’t remember anything she’s done?’ Kit said, eyes on the road, hands gripping the wheel. ‘The thing is, that disease is nasty. I never gave her the cherries on those pastries. Never. They were my favourite bit. And she’d eat hers and then demand mine, and cry when I didn’t give it to her. And yet that brain of hers focuses on that, rewriting history… to tell me I’m a good sister!’

‘It’s a peculiar kind of torture,’ I said, unthinking.

‘For her, maybe. For us, definitely. Since I saw her again, she’s been sweetness and light most of the time. But those odd moments where her mind flutters to the past… it’s like the Alzheimer’s is punishing me for everything she thinks I wronged her for at sixteen.’

‘That’s tough.’

Kit shrugged, ‘We all have our lots to bear. I’m sure I must have done something to deserve my sister.’

I snorted, and Kit’s mouth twitched.

‘So… did I do something to deserve her as a mother?’

Kit looked at me and shook her head.

‘No, kids don’t count. I’m sure you’re being punished for something else.’

Her voice was so deadpan that I couldn’t help but laugh.

‘The staff must love you visiting her. You’re such a sensitive soul,’ I teased.

‘Oh yes, they want me to come in and teach some classes.’

Kit took the opportunity to take me sightseeing, as if I was a child who needed distracting. Or maybe she wanted the distraction herself, I don’t know. But it was welcome. We drove around and stopped at a little restaurant for lunch, Kit chatting away about how she first moved up here and how she’d felt so alone.

It was like she felt the need to make up for Nina, undo the harm she feared she’d caused by taking me to see my mum. But I didn’t mind, listening to her chat away about learning about the farm, travelling around the Highlands with her granny, learning the history of the lands.

There was always a shame, at being not quite Scottish enough. That much was clear. But we ate stew and sipped whisky and looked out at the lush green that surrounded us, and I remembered to breathe.

‘It’s okay, Kit,’ I said when she’d seemingly run out of things to say.

‘Could you not have said that twenty minutes ago? I don’t think I’ve spoken that much all year.’

I laughed, and shook my head. ‘I like quiet. My idea of heaven is a library where anyone who tries to talk to you gets shushed and escorted out by security.’

It was Kit’s turn to laugh, ‘You’re a strange wee thing. Not like Nina at all. Was your da a quiet man?’

I tried to search through my memories for what he used to be like. When you’re a kid you feel about your parents how they feel about you, and it was hard to remember spending any time with Dad.

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