Unbecoming by Jenny Downham Page A

you want to know the truth. How about a little sit-down before we go anywhere? I could murder a cake.’
    The girl laughed. Her face lit up with it. ‘I’m so glad to see you, Mary. I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in all my life.’

Twelve
    ‘So, Mrs Todd,’ the man said, ‘do you know why you’re here?’
    Mary looked down at her feet and silently named her bones. She started with her metatarsals and intended going up in size until she got to her femur, but was interrupted by the woman sitting next to her, who leaned over and patted her hand. Mary could feel her own body trembling through the woman’s fingers.
    ‘Did you hear?’ the woman said. ‘You need to tell the doctor if you remember why we came.’
    The room grew pale. If you do crosswords, if you read books, if you avoid aluminium saucepans, if you extract all metal fillings, if you …
    Mary swallowed the panic and examined the woman’s face for clues. She looked very stern – all that hair tied up so tight. It looked like a snake was sleeping on top of her head.
    ‘You need to answer the doctor’s question,’ the woman said.
    ‘Why don’t you answer?’ Mary suggested.
    The woman frowned. ‘I think he wants to hear it from you.’
    Something terrible had happened, Mary knew that. A scream had shot out of her like liquid. There had been people staring, a blue light flashing.
    And now she was in a room with a man and a woman and a desk. It was a small room, bright with sunshine. Through thewindow there were trees with leaves as wide as open hands. Summer then.
    The man said, ‘Perhaps you remember the journey here, Mrs Todd? Did you come by car or public transport?’
    And over there, on a chair beneath the window, was a girl. Nothing too terrible could have happened if they were allowing a child to be here. Mary relaxed a little. She recognized this girl. She had her feet on the chair with her knees tucked up and was wearing those galumphing boots of hers. Mary gave her a friendly wave. At least she was something cheery to look at.
    The girl waved back, said, ‘We came in the car, remember? Mum drove and you and me sat in the back.’
    The man wagged a finger. ‘It’d be better if we let your grandmother answer.’
    No getting out of it then. ‘Well,’ Mary began, ‘what precisely is it you would like to know, young man? Why we are here, or how we all got here?’
    The man looked as if he was thinking about that. He eyed Mary steadily. ‘This is a memory clinic, Mrs Todd.’
    ‘Of course it is,’ Mary said, ‘which explains why nobody’s got a clue what’s going on!’
    The girl by the window laughed. It was infectious. The woman caught it and smiled. Even the man behind the desk twinkled.
    ‘Let me explain,’ the man said. ‘Your daughter’s doctor got in touch with us because she’s concerned that you might be having a bit of trouble remembering things.’
    Blood knocked at Mary’s temples. ‘Caroline’s doctor?’
    ‘Yes,’ the woman said. ‘I’m Caroline and you came with me to meet my doctor, remember?’
    This was Caroline! How strange not to have recognized her.
    The man said, ‘Would you say you’ve been having problems with your memory, Mrs Todd?’
    ‘Not at all.’
    He nodded. ‘Well, let’s consider the next half an hour an MOT test, shall we? We’ll just run through a few things and check everything’s in working order.’ He opened a file and flicked through it, pulled out a piece of paper and read it up and down. ‘So,’ he said, ‘can you tell me a bit about yourself, Mrs Todd?’
    ‘What would you like to know?’
    ‘Perhaps a bit about your childhood? Do you have any brothers or sisters, for instance?’
    ‘I have a sister.’ Mary shot a look at Caroline. She was cross with her for talking to doctors behind her back. ‘ She can tell you about Pat. They got to know each other very well.’
    ‘She’s referring to the fact her sister brought me up,’ Caroline said. ‘My mother was