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“I’ll shut this one, too, so we don’t disturb Mum.” She closed the door to the hall, then slipped into the kitchen, hoping to shake off her grin before Lucie noticed. As she flicked the kettle on, her attention drifted over to her guest. “What tea would you like?”
“Oh, whatever you’re having.”
“Camomile okay?” Frances asked, setting two mugs down and reaching for the teabags.
“Perfect. Thanks.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” Frances said.
“I love puzzles,” Lucie said, placing a piece into the one laid out on the dining table. “I used to do them with my gran. Not this complicated, though.”
“Mum struggles with them. I need to get her some easier ones.” Frances hesitated. “I’m sorry about your gran. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. Did she have dementia, or — ”
“Alzheimer’s,” Lucie said with a sigh as she took a seat on the sofa. “I nursed her right to the end. Then felt guilty for my relief when she died.”
Frances blinked, caught off guard. Would she feel that too? Relief alongside grief? She wasn’t sure she wanted to. As the kettle came to the boil, she filled the mugs.
“I don’t think I ever realised how hard it would be,” she said, carrying them over and setting one beside Lucie. “They say mum has Alzheimer’s. I’m finally growing closer to her while she’s drifting away from me.”
“I’m sorry,” Lucie said, wrapping her fingers around the mug.
Frances took the seat beside her and continued. “It wasn’t so bad until she started wandering. Now I’m worried the whole time I’m not here.”
“My gran was also restless at night. She’d wander around the house, rummaging in drawers and moving things around. How long has she — ”
“Around two years.”
Lucie nodded. “It’s so gradual, it’s often difficult to pinpoint when it began.”
Frances hummed her agreement, noticing Lucie’s eyes matched her dark brown hair.
“She was making so many mistakes at work. I knew I had to do something. I was just grateful she didn’t fight it. She’d been preparing me for her role for years, so I made the transition feel as natural as possible, not drawing attention to any failing on her part. But without a routine...” She took a deep breath, her chest tightening at the memory. “She sort of sank into herself.”
A warm pressure settled on her arm. Frances glanced down to find Lucie’s hand there, gently squeezing.
“That can happen when a routine changes. It’s why it’s so important to establish a new one quickly.”
“I hadn’t appreciated that at the time,” Frances admitted. “I left her to her own devices. We have a better routine now.”
“Did people not wonder what happened to her?”
Lucie’s hand slipped from Frances’s arm. She felt its absence immediately.
“I said she was busy with her retirement, charity work, that sort of thing. If anyone from outside the estate asked, I said she was tied up with the hall. We turned down invitations, and she lost touch with friends. Then people stopped asking. Though I don’t think they stopped wondering.”
Her thoughts flicked to Mara, and a wave of nausea hit her. The deception had felt necessary, but perhaps it was just selfish. At least she didn’t need to tiptoe around her anymore.
Lucie’s brow furrowed. “You can’t keep her locked up.”
“I don’t,” Frances said quickly, almost pleading. “She didn’t want to go out at first. She feared people noticing what was happening to her. It kind of became a habit to stay in. As things progressed, she was more settled with going out... she became less aware, I suppose. I take her out for a walk early in the morning, before anyone is on-site. It calms her. It feels more like the Winterbourne she remembers.”
“That makes sense,” Lucie said. She pointed to a picture beside the television. “Is that your mum when she was younger?”
“Yes. She wanted to look through the old photo albums yesterday, and we found that. That’s her during her audition for Eliza Doolittle. She got the part, but she never made it to Broadway. She was so taken with it that I popped it in a frame for her.”
“Your mum mentioned that. She said your grandfather died and they had to move here.”
“Yes. It’s very sad. I’m sure she would have had a successful career in the States.” She let out a long breath. “But then I wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be...” She trailed off, realising how odd the sentiment sounded.