The Art of Forgetting by Julie McLaren

hear that he is to be re-homed, they naturally want him to live with them. It would be so easy to start her explanation with “Daddy says …” and thus exonerate herself from the whole thing, including the blame in their eyes. But she doesn’t. She has always remembered her mother’s advice to present a united front at all times, regardless of anything that has happened behind the scenes, and she knows this is one of the reasons her own childhood was so happy and secure. But it is so difficult! She hates what they are doing and yet she is the one who has to explain it to them as if she believes that it will somehow be better for Jip. She will be going back to work soon and he would hate being left alone all day. He’s getting old now, so he needs a quiet house without children running around. It’s all nonsense and they know it, just as she does.
    “We’ll find somebody nice for him to live with,” she says, hugging Lily who is taking it badly.
    “But we won’t be able to see him,” she sobs. “He’ll wonder why we don’t love him any more.”
    Laura tries to explain that dogs don’t have the same feelings as humans and that he will soon grow to love his new owners. Part of her even believes what she says, but another part of her has already rehearsed a heart-wrenching goodbye scene that she still believes could be avoided. She has a tight knot of anger at Patrick’s intransigence and heartlessness. Sometimes you have to do things that are not necessarily the most logical or cost-effective. Sometimes you have to do things because they are the right thing to do, but he can’t see that and she has to give in. She tries not to be frosty to Patrick in front of the kids, but when they are alone the effort of not bringing up the issue, knowing she will only hit the same brick wall, means that she hardly talks to him at all.
    She has already consulted, at length, with Kelly and Robin, but neither is in a position to take Jip. Nor do they know anybody suitable, so Laura puts a card in the vet’s and another in the farm shop near to her mother’s house. She also asks Candy to keep her ears open for anyone who might like a ten year old collie cross with soulful brown eyes and the habit of showing his front teeth when he is pleased to see you. Candy is devastated that her phone call has prompted this decision and wishes she could take Jip herself, but promises to ask around. In the meantime, of course he can stay as long as necessary, and Laura makes sure they visit the next weekend.
    It is around this time that Laura first starts to go to her mother’s house in the evening, after Patrick comes home and the children are in bed. The evenings are light and she would rather be there than sitting in an uncomfortable silence, with Patrick dividing his attention between various arms of the media or working in the dining room. It also means that she has more time during the day to visit Mum as well as keeping on top of her domestic duties.
    After several two-hour sessions, she has completed the lounge. There is one more box of bits and pieces that may trigger some memories for her mother, a stack of books for charity shops and another for Kelly and Robin to look through. The rubbish has all gone, weeks ago. This is as far as she can go here, so she decides to make a start on her old bedroom.
    She has been putting this off. Of course, it has not been her room for many a long year, and none of her possessions are in there. But it remains, in her mind, her room. If she closes her eyes before opening the door, she can see it as it was when she left for university. The silvery-grey paint that didn’t quite cover the patterns on the wallpaper beneath. The glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling. The novelty cushion she had made at school, proudly displayed on the bed. Clothes all over the place and a dark smudge on the carpet where she had dropped a bottle of nail varnish.
    Now it is completely different. As the guest room, it is