He nodded. I tried not to think about his breath against my skin, the feel of his body pressed against mine. My face felt hot.
‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’ Business-like and professional, that was the best way.
He sat back and crossed his ankle over his knee. I averted my gaze from the sliver of leg the action revealed. ‘I’ve been thinking about what you said. About songs helping to trigger memories.’
‘Right.’
He looked down at his hands. ‘Well first of all I’m sorry I was so rude to you about it. I know you were only trying to help.’
‘It’s fine.’ I waved it away, desperate for him to get to the point.
‘I’ve been doing some reading. About music, and memory and how it can help.’ He scratched his ankle and looked up. ‘I wondered if we could give it a go?’
I didn’t reply immediately.
‘It’s okay if you don’t want to. I get that it might be weird, and that we probably shouldn’t be spending too much time together given – well, you know. Greg.’
I shook my head, trying to stay calm, but my insides were a mess. ‘It’s fine, really.’ I swallowed. ‘I’ll help you.’ I shouldn’t be doing this; it was a total betrayal. I felt choked with shame – and yet Adam needed me. The truth was, no matter what else was going on here, I really might be able to help him. How could I refuse?
‘Really?’ He clapped his hands together and I was reminded momentarily of his mother. I shook the image away.
‘Yes. Absolutely. I’d…’ I paused, uncertain of what to say. I decided to stay professional. ‘I’d be happy to give it a go.’
He smiled and I felt light-headed. ‘Thank you.’ He glanced behind him. ‘Are you in a rush? Could we…’ He hooked his thumb towards the other corner of the room and I looked over to see his old stereo.
‘You want to startnow?’
‘Only if you don’t mind. I mean, unless you have to get home?’
I checked my watch. It was only one-thirty. I’d left Greg making mince pies. I didn’t need to be home for a while. ‘We could make a start.’ I jumped up and headed over to the stereo, Adam following close behind. There was a huge pile of old CDs on the floor, as well as vinyl records, and an iPad wired up to two enormous speakers. I also noticed a few guitars propped up against the wall, and I tried not to think about the times I’d watched him play when we were teenagers. An ashtray sat on the chest of drawers, half-full, a packet of tobacco beside it.
‘Do you mind?’ he said, indicating the packet.
‘No, go ahead.’
‘So, what should we try first?’ He pulled a paper out of the packet and began lining the tobacco up inside it. His hands were strong, secure. I tried not to think about the times those fingers had touched me, or the places.
‘What I usually do with my patients is have a chat about music they like, songs that mean something to them,’ I said, getting back on track. ‘That way we can collate a few songs that might help to unlock their brains.’ I paused, cleared my throat. ‘Sometimes I play to them as well.’
‘You play guitar?’ He rolled up the cigarette and brought it to his lips, lit the lighter and inhaled. Smoke blossomed out around us.
‘A little. Nowhere near as good as you but enough to play some simple songs.’
‘Wow. You just get better and better.’ His gaze burned into me and I looked away. ‘Sorry. Totally inappropriate.’ He picked up a CD from the top of the pile. ‘So what happens after that?’
‘It depends. Sometimes I get a reaction the very first time I play a tune. If it’s a song that reminds someone of their childhood, or of an important moment in their lives, it can fire up part of the amygdala – a part of the brain associated with processing emotions – to evoke memories connected to that song or those lyrics. Sometimes the reaction is less immediate, but comes more gradually, with repetition, and slowly a memory starts to resurface.
‘But the thing you need to realise about the memory is that people with dementia find it frightening, not having a fully functioning memory – it means they don’t know what’s coming next in a pattern of events so they can’t predict things, as well as not being able to recognise people, places or formerly familiar things. So in their case their brainswantto be stimulated, and want to respond. In a case like yours, though, the lack of memory could be the brain’s way of protecting you from the things it needs to forget – in which case it might be trickier to tease the memories out.’
I looked up to find Adam staring at me. I held his gaze, and the space between us hummed with so many unspoken words. Then Adam looked away, took another drag on his roll-up, and the moment was broken.
‘So you’re saying my brain might not want to do this?’
‘It’s possible. But it’s worth a try.’ I bent down and studied the CD collection, running my fingers down the edges of their spines.
‘These are probably the best ones to start with,’ he said, crouching down beside me. His leg brushed my thigh and I moved away. ‘I haven’t bought CDs for years, so these will all be older.’ He pulled one from the middle, making the pile wobble, and handed me the plastic box.
‘Would this one work?’
