‘Oh okay.’ He hadn’t said anything else but I could see the disappointment in his face and it pierced my heart like a needle.
But now I was here, I wasn’t sure why I’d come. I’d had the chance to spend the day with my husband which, after the few months we’d been through, should have been my priority. Instead I’d chosen to see my ex-boyfriend who couldn’t remember who I was, at the house where his awful parents lived. For what?
As we made our way through the expansive hallway towards the back of the house, all was quiet and my hopes soared. Maybe his parents were out after all.
But then they plummeted again when we reached the kitchen to find his mother sitting at the table, a glass of wine in hand. She stood when we entered and held her arms out in greeting as though we were old friends. I remained stock still as she walked unsteadily towards me.
‘How lovely to see you,’ she said, placing her hands on my upper arms and air kissing either side of my face. I flinched at her touch. ‘Erin, isn’t it?’
‘You know it is Mum, I told you she was coming.’ Adam’s voice was sharp.
‘All right dear, no need to be like that.’ She stepped away from me and I relaxed. ‘Adam tells me you’ve been spending some time together over the last few days.’ She clapped her hands together like an excited child. ‘How lovely for Adam to be back in touch with someone from his old life.’ She glanced at her son. ‘He says he can’t remember a thing you know. Imagine that, not being able to remember your own mother!’
Lucky for him, I thought, but didn’t say. ‘Yes, it must be awful,’ I replied. ‘Well it’s very nice to see you Mrs Bowers.’ I turned to leave the room but she was having none of it. ‘Oh won’t you join me in a glass of wine? It is Christmas after all.’
‘Thank you Mum but Erin doesn’t have very long and we have things to discuss.’ Adam steered me towards the sweeping staircase when a figure appeared at the bottom, and a chill ran through my bones.
‘Hello Adam.’ His father was as imposing as ever. His once dark hair was now steely grey, but his eyes were still as piercing.
‘Erin and I were just going upstairs.’ Adam started to walk round him but his father didn’t move.
‘Hello Erin. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you here. I believe you think you may be able to help Adam with his memories?’
I glanced at Adam, unsure how much he’d told them about our conversation.
‘That’s right. I work with music therapists helping people with dementia.’
He studied me for a moment the way a scientist studies an insect – knowing they could crush them with one fingertip in the blink of an eye should they so wish – then gave a small nod.
‘Well, anything is worth a try I suppose.’ He threaded his fingers together. ‘Although if even the best doctors in the world can’t help him I’m not exactly sure what good yourmusic therapyis going to do.’ He put a stress on the words music therapy as though they tasted vile on his tongue. But this time instead of letting his words make me feel small, I stuck my chin out in defiance.
‘I’m a highly qualified psychologist and music therapy is a well-researched area,’ I said, keeping my voice strong. ‘I’m sure we’ll have some success.’
He scrutinised me for a moment longer, then stepped aside. Adam and I walked up the stairs under his gaze, and it wasn’t until we reached his bedroom that I let out a breath.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t know why he has to be like that.’ He ran his hands over his short hair.
‘It’s fine. It’s nothing less than I expected.’
Adam seemed to deflate at those words. ‘You mean he’s been like that with you before?’
‘Worse.’
‘Oh God.’ He buried his face in his hands. ‘Is it wrong to detest your own father?’
‘Detest is a strong word Adam.’
‘Maybe. But I’ve seen the way he is with everyone he thinks is below him – which is most people, including my mother. He’s just so –ignorant.I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to be with him.’
‘Well, maybe he has some redeeming features.’
‘I haven’t seen them if he has. No wonder I hadn’t seen my parents for years.’
We stood in silence for a moment and I took in the room I hadn’t been in since I was a teenager. It had barely changed. I was surprised it hadn’t been converted into a gym or something, although with so many rooms to choose from it probably wasn’t necessary. It was a huge room, roughly the same size as my entire upstairs floor, with high ceilings and an enormous king-sized bed dominating the centre of it. I looked away from the bed where we’d spent so many hours together when his parents were out of the house, and headed towards the far corner where there was a desk and a couple of armchairs. Much safer ground. I settled in one of the chairs and Adam sat in the other, facing me. I tried not to look him directly in the eye, but focused on a spot behind his head instead.
‘Thanks for coming today,’ he said. ‘I didn’t expect you to come over on Christmas Eve. But I’m glad you have.’
‘It’s fine. I didn’t have any plans and it was easier to get away.’
