I’ve often wondered why the moment you feel as though you’re making progress, life comes along and knocks you back down. ‘Loi de gazon’ my darling dad always used to say, or sod’s law, as Harry called it.
Whatever it was, I had a feeling I’d had a good dose of it, and the trouble was I couldn’t shake the feeling I had brought it on myself. Watching new and old friends tuck into the risotto I had thrown myself into cooking the moment I got home from that disastrous driving lesson, I tried to fight the feeling of stupidity. I had a nagging feeling my eyesight would be a problem, but cynically thought the optician was just trying to get me to spend more on glasses. But when Tracey had told me to stop for that zebra crossing I had known I was in trouble. I couldn’t see the crossing anywhere until it was far too late, and then of course, when I realised I could only read a number plate from memory, well, I knew it was game over, as the kids say. I couldn’t carry on and risk putting someone’s life in jeopardy.
I glanced across at Erin who was deep in conversation with Rachel. I knew she was upset with me for not being more forthcoming about my eyesight and I didn’t blame her. Harry always used to go on about the daft old codgers who didn’t know when to stop driving. ‘They’re a bloody nuisance and a danger to others,’ he used to shout, and I would agree. Now, here was I doing just the same thing, and all because I had some stupid notion that I had missed out somehow.
I turned my attention back to the table and watched everyone chatter away. Erin had made a pretty floral centrepiece and all our guests seemed to be having a good time. Lily and Erin were deep in discussion about the subject of highlighters versus bronzers, while Phil and Rachel shared memories of when she was a student.
Idly, I pushed the risotto around the plate with my fork. I didn’t have much of an appetite and actually felt quite tired.
I pushed my chair back. ‘Just popping out for some air.’
Phil’s face was full of concern. ‘You all right, Lydia?’
‘Fine,’ I replied, patting his hand. ‘It’s been a long day, I’ll be back in a minute.’
Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my jacket and walked outside, enjoying the feel of the cool evening air against my flushed face. Leaning my head against the stone wall, I tried to gather my thoughts.
‘Thought you might like this.’ Phil’s voice pierced the silence.
Turning round I saw my friend, holding out a rather large glass of Malbec. ‘You seemed as if you were struggling a little inside.’
Taking the glass, I smiled gratefully at Phil as I took a sip. ‘Yes, today has not been one of my finest.’
‘So I heard,’ Phil replied. Leaning against the wall next to me he didn’t say anything but the warmth from his body gave me comfort.
I turned to face him. ‘This might sound silly but I can’t help wondering what Harry would make of all this.’
Phil looked at me blankly. ‘All what?’
‘You know, Erin, Jack, me learning to drive, changing my image.’ I pulled at the leather jacket I had been so proud of a few weeks ago. ‘He’d say I was losing the plot.’
‘Judging by the last few weeks, Harry wasn’t exactly the patron saint of sense,’ Phil pointed out. ‘You’re doing what feels right for you now, Lyddie. Don’t forget you’re still grieving; it makes us all do funny things. It’s been what, three months since Harry died?’
I nodded, enjoying the comfort of Phil’s advice. If anyone should know how tough death was to cope with it was Phil. He had been devastated when his wife had passed away. ‘So do you think me trying to track Jack down is a funny thing? Erin wants us to go to Paris and see him in person, would you believe.’
Phil sipped his wine before he spoke. ‘I’m sure she means well. But the young are full of passion for life, they don’t understand that as you get older you want to take fewer risks. And given what happened today, I can see why you feel that risk taking is not for you.’
‘But surely it’s all about taking a calculated risk,’ Erin called from behind me.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, whirling around to see her face illumined by the light from the kitchen window.
‘I was worried about you,’ she said kindly. ‘You’ve hardly eaten anything.’
‘I’m fine. Phil and I have just been talking about the joys of being an old so and so.’
Phil gave me a playful nudge causing me to spill some of my wine down my jacket. ‘You speak for yourself.’
‘Why are you feeling old Lydia?’ Erin asked, the clouds she made with her breath in the cool evening air distorting her face.
‘I don’t know.’ I sighed. ‘I suppose today has just been a wake-up call. I’m realising I can’t do all the things I want to do any more. It’s sad.’
With a start I realised that was just how I felt – sad. It was sad that my mind and my body were beginning to let me down.
‘But it doesn’t have to be like that for everything,’ Erin began urgently. ‘You perhaps just have to make your choices a little more carefully. Think about the risks you can take that will actually work.’
‘Like flying to Paris you mean,’ I said pointedly.
‘Yes,’ Erin said firmly before turning to Phil. ‘Lydia has been having trouble writing a letter to Jack. I said let’s not waste time with a letter, let’s get out there and see him in person.’
‘Lydia has just been telling me,’ he said gently to Erin before turning back to me, ‘You know, Lydia, it’s not a bad idea.’
‘It’s a terrible idea,’ I growled. ‘I might give the poor man a heart attack.’
‘Or you could have the most wonderful moment of your life,’ Erin reasoned.
‘Are you really worried about Jack having a heart attack or is this more to do with the fact you no longer like to fly?’ Phil asked bluntly.
I felt a flash of anger. My recent fear of flying was something I preferred not to talk about, and something I had forgotten I had told my old friend during an evening sampling some of the Patxaran, he had brought home from his latest trip to Madrid.
‘I didn’t know you were afraid of flying.’ Erin frowned. ‘You know it’s one of the safest forms of travel, right?’
‘True.’ Phil pointed out.
I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘And you know that’s not what I’m worried about.’
Erin pounced. ‘So what is it about?’
‘I don’t want to say,’ I said falteringly. ‘I would just rather change the subject.’
‘And I wouldn’t,’ Erin said firmly. ‘Come on Lydia, we’re friends. I’m here for you, please tell me.’
I looked at Erin and despite the situation, couldn’t help roaring with laughter. She was giving me her very best puppy dog eyes, and annoyingly, even though I knew she was playing me like a Stradivarius, I was falling for it. Something told me it was time to tell her the truth. ‘It’s not that I’m afraid of flying Erin. I don’t like all the hassle of airport security, the chaos, and I also just don’t like being away from home.’
Confusion flashed across Erin’s face. ‘Why?’
‘Because I’m worried I’ll get so confused I won’t be able to find my way back.’
‘But why wouldn’t you be able to get back?’ she pressed.
I turned to Phil who gave me a silent nod of encouragement. ‘Because I’m starting to lose my memory, Erin. It’s been happening for a while and I’m frightened.’
‘Why?’ Erin asked gently, with all the naivety of the young. ‘I forget things all the time.’
‘Yes, but not like this.’ I said haltingly. ‘The thing is Erin, my memory is the reason Harry died.’
At that Phil wrapped an arm around my shoulders. ‘You’ve got to stop saying this. It is not your fault Harry passed away.’
I gave in then to the tears I had been desperately trying to keep at bay.
‘Why is it your fault Harry died?’ Erin asked, her eyes straying from me to Phil as if trying to keep up with the story.
Phil gave me another squeeze before he spoke. ‘You know that Lydia and Harry were in my café when he had a heart attack. What you don’t know is that when it happened, Lydia reached into Harry’s chest pocket for the mobile he had recently bought, then stared at it because for a split second she couldn’t remember how a phone worked. I saw what was happening and immediately rang the emergency services myself from the café phone.’
Hearing the story aloud, pain sliced through me like a knife to my heart. How could my memory have failed me at such a crucial time? Erin stepped forward then and took my hand. ‘Lydia, this is not your fault, you can’t think like that. My God, in the moment, none of us know how we’re going to react.’
‘Erin is right, Lydia,’ Phil added. ‘I have told you time and time again, it was a moment’s hesitation and the ambulance would not have arrived any earlier had you called them a second before I did.’
‘But how could I forget what to do? I keep going over and over it,’ I protested. ‘There’s something wrong with me, I know there is. If I’ve learnt anything this afternoon it’s that.’
There was a pause then as Erin and Phil exchanged concerned glances.
‘Have you actually been to the doctor?’ Erin asked gently. ‘Have you told them you’ve got memory troubles?’
‘After Harry died, when things seemed to be getting worse,’ I confessed. ‘She said it was nothing to worry about, just the shock of losing my husband.’
‘There you are then.’ Erin smiled, the relief on her face obvious. ‘There’s no reason not to go away. I’ll be with you the whole time if you feel like you’re in trouble, and we could even make it a working holiday, as there’s an antiques fair on, the last weekend of June. With a familiar routine, and familiar things around you, then you might find it’s not as bad as you think and you could finally lay this piece of your past to rest. Surely it’s worth a try?’
As Erin pressed her phone into my hand, I looked at the picture of the antiques fair on the small screen. She was right; the Paris Antiques Fair was a big one, not as large as the one in September, but big enough to attract buyers and customers alike from all over the world.
‘This was the fair Harry and I used to go to every year,’ I said with a smile. ‘It was the highlight of our year, and where we held the annual general meeting of the Simon and Garfunkel Appreciation Society.’
Erin’s eyes lit up at the news. ‘Well, how perfect is this? Come on, Lydia, you and I can recreate the society once more, what do you say?’
I looked from Erin to Phil. He was smiling and shaking his head all at the same time. He had never understood my love for Simon and Garfunkel, but aside from that there seemed to be encouragement in his eyes.
‘All right,’ I said nervously. ‘Let’s go.’