Becoming Strangers

Becoming Strangers by Louise Dean Page B

Book: Becoming Strangers by Louise Dean Read Free Book Online
Authors: Louise Dean
Tags: Fiction, General, Sagas
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have got really nasty too,' Maxine had added and Harry had nodded in her direction, his eyes glazing over as he looked at the breakfast buffet. 'If you're going up, get us another blueberry muffin, love.'
    'Alzheimer's,' Missy was saying again, 'it can be so harrowing for the family. Even though it's hard, you have to get them in a nursing home, otherwise they just take over your world, it's tragic.'
    'It is tragic,' Beverly agreed, 'it's something that I dread, losing my mind.'
    'The rest you can get fixed, but not your mind,' Missy added with a smile.
    'So that's the story,' Annemieke concluded, using her hands to signal the finale.
    'Well, good for your husband and that young guy for finding her,' Beverly began.
    'Sure,' said Missy, taking a sip of the decaffeinated coffee that had just been placed in front of her. 'I can't do too much stimulation,' she had explained, rolling
the final word off her tongue as though it was an extremely dangerous euphemism.
    'Well, I'm proud of my husband,' said Annemieke, folding her napkin, 'my Jan. His own health is not strong. He has been very brave. To lose a night's sleep is a big sacrifice for him, sleep is hard to get with his illness. I hope that George appreciates him.'
    'He has insomnia? It's just an awful thing to live with,' Missy said.
    Annemieke fixed her eyes upon her.
    'He is dying of cancer. He has just a few weeks left, they say.'
    'Oh my God.'
    'Oh my God.'
    Annemieke stood up and gave a crooked half-smile. She looked into the gardens beyond the windows and took a deep breath. 'This is our last vacation,' she said.

23
    C HARLOTTE WAS A VERY TALL WOMAN , confident and long-limbed. She wore her hair pulled back from her face. She was laughing in response to something Adam had said as she strode ahead of them, through the wire front gate, fending off the children, waving a hand in front of her face to fan herself. It was hot early in the day; her home was on a hilltop plateau, on a grassless plot opposite sugar cane fields.
    'Dorothy,' she cried as she entered the house and she
might have been calling a child that had been at a sleepover party to let her know her parents had come.
    Dorothy was holding a mug of tea, her smile flickering as she moved into the light of the porch. George put a single arm round her and hugged her to him, tea and all.
    'Don't have a go at me about it, George,' she said, her voice muffled by his body so that only he could hear her. 'Just don't say anything for once, please. Just this once.'
    'All right, all right,' he was saying, 'it's all right now. Everything's going to be all right. You gave me a scare, a terrible scare. I thought I might not see you again.'
    'No such luck,' said Dorothy, pulling away from him and setting her tea down. She put both hands up around his face and kissed him on the lips.
    'I don't want to lose you, even if you are a bleeding nuisance.' The others looked away.
    Charlotte had picked up her own cup of tea and gestured to the two men, 'Want some?' They shook their heads. They were standing in the scrub of the front yard, a small girl was holding out a dog-chewed yellow ball to Jan, which he took at last. It was dripping wet. The long-eared mutt was looking at Jan with a leer, drool hanging off its mouth, tail mustering a slight wag. Two boys appeared from behind the front door and came out to see what Jan was going to do with it.
    'I think she wants you to play catch,' said Adam, trying not to laugh.
    'Sure, sure,' said Jan, holding the ball by a thumb and a fingertip.

24
    'W E'VE GOT TO STOP meeting like this,' wheezed Bill Moloney, lowering himself into the Jacuzzi with winces and expletives, on account of the heat of the water.
    She had expected him and she might also have expected him to say something like that. Annemieke took one damp magazine page away from the next and came to an image of a woman feigning sleep in a deck chair, dressed in a gabardine long-skirted coat and lace-up boots. It was time to start

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