CHARITY NORMAN Remember Me. Reviewed by Karen Chisholm
A dementia diagnosis reveals clues to a decades-old mystery in this new novel from the author of The Secrets of Strangers – Charity Norman’s third to be shortlisted for NZ’s Ngaio Marsh Awards.
In June 1994, 21-year old Emily Kirkland had been working at a petrol station when scientist Dr Leah Parata dropped in to buy a chocolate bar. She was on her way into the remote mountains near their small home town of Tawanui, on the hunt for Marchant’s snails. Leah is five years older than Emily, and one of her heroes.
They never found Leah Parata. Not a boot, not a backpack, not a turquoise beanie. After she left me that day, she vanished off the face of the earth.
Leah’s family and friends, like the Kirklands, have lived with the pain of not knowing ever since, made worse by the death of Leah’s beloved father Manu from Huntington’s Disease. Over the years Leah’s mother Raewyn has been a great support for Emily’s father, Felix. Felix was a much loved, admired and trusted GP in the town, although he was always a distant and distracted figure at home.
After Emily’s mother threw in the towel on her nothing of a marriage and returned to the UK, Emily’s two older siblings remained in New Zealand, marrying and moving on with their lives, while Emily went travelling, eventually settling in the UK as well. She has become a well-regarded illustrator of children’s books with a son of her own. It’s 2019 now, and although she and Nathan have returned infrequently to visit Felix, it’s a call from Raewyn that brings Emily back to New Zealand for the last reason she’d ever considered:
Alzheimer’s. Among people my age – the sandwich generation, squashed between parents and children, never quite coping with either and feeling constantly inadequate – the word had friends recoiling with grimaces and sympathetic tuts. Oh no! I’m so sorry, that’s a cruel thing. We’re all afraid it’s coming for us too. We’re all terrified when we forget someone’s name.
Raewyn was talking about the diagnosis, about what it meant for Dad.
While Emily’s two siblings are all for finding a care home for their father, Emily returns to find out the truth for herself, drawn by the pull of the Parata family and an unexpected sense of family responsibility – but mostly because she seems to be searching for something. Her life in the UK is settled, but she seems a bit lost, disconnected in some ways, particularly as Nathan is working overseas now, with a partner of his own.
After we’d hung up, I sat at the table and tried to kid myself that my father wasn’t my responsibility. A bus came gliding past, early-morning commuters on the upper deck gazing straight into my world, and I into theirs. Nathan was gone, and the nest felt empty. Christmas was a tinsel-strewn memory. The truly dark days of winter were just beginning: January, February. Rain and greyness and political division.
But it was summer in New Zealand. Temperatures in the thirties, endless blue skies, evening dips in the Arapito stream – our deliciously clear little river, with its pools and cliffs and pockets of native bush.
What Emily doesn’t seem to expect is the sense of connection with her father that starts to build, and the sadness she feels as she realises this precise, orderly man has known he is losing control and has been covering it up for a long time.
I was rummaging in the cutlery drawer, looking for a teaspoon. I’d just found one when something caught my eye: a post-it note taped to the handle of the tin opener:
CAN OPENER
1. Open the metal arms.
2. Put cutting edge onto edge of can.
3. Press down HARD!
4. Turn handle.
Dad’s handwriting used to be controlled and even, marching along straight lines. Much like the man himself, in fact. This was certainly his writing, but it looked as though he’d used his left hand, with quavering wobbles on every letter. Looking around me, I spotted more notes with spidery instructions: on the microwave, the dishwasher, the rice cooker. I slammed the drawer shut. This was terrifying.
As she spends more time with him, these notes and the awareness they give her lead her to form a bond with Felix. Though you can never really tell what Felix is feeling, especially as he becomes increasingly confused and more inclined to let his guard down. It’s at that point that Emily starts to see odd clues and hints in the aide-mémoires and physical items she finds hidden away.
WAYMARKS
I am FELIX GERALD KIRKLAND
3 children CARMEN, EDWARD, EMILY
6 grandchildren: Esme, Natalie (Eddie’s), Nicholas, Shona,
Oliver (Carmen’s), Nathan (Emily’s)
I was born in LEEDS. I went to Leeds Grammar School.
I was tennis captain
Our family dog was SHEP, my best friend was Alan Trentham
I studied medicine at Merton College, Oxford
MY PARENTS are SUSAN AND GERALD KIRKLAND
My sister HELEN died aged 18
EX wife Lillian. Amicable divorce?
I am a doctor (GP). I was partner in the health centre in Tawanui
I AM A DOCTOR—remember this
LEAH
LEAH LEAH
REMEMBER!
Then there’s the envelope labelled NOT TO BE OPENED UNTIL AFTER MY DEATH, and Felix’s increasing inability to perform day-to-day tasks. There are also Leah’s siblings pushing for Felix to go into a care home, Raewyn Parata’s gentle support, and memories flooding back in. Memories of a childhood that was idyllic on one level, and blighted by circumstance on the other. Of the problems of being a teenager, of friends, and, always, the disappearance of Leah. The how and where are nowhere near as important to Emily as the why. Why would a woman who was so capable, so assured, so intelligent, vanish from the face of the earth? And, increasingly as she discovers more of her father’s hints and clues, what did he do?
The confusion that comes with the gradual realisation that Felix knew something about Leah’s disappearance, and the obvious conclusion – that he may have been complicit or worse, responsible – hits Emily hard.
Logical conclusion: My father is a murderer.
Built into the narrative of Emily’s reconnection with her father is an exploration of family dynamics, small town interactions and sibling rivalries. The characterisations are all bright and clear, you can see Raewyn at her kitchen table, Emily’s confused face as she discovers yet another hint, and Felix’s far-off stare as he tries to remember the things he is so desperate to retain.
There’s much that has gone on in these people’s pasts, and the revelations are beautifully executed with humour, heartbreak and absolute connection between the reader, the storyline and the potential consequences for everyone.
Remember Me provides a very realistic picture of both sides of the complication that ageing and dementia creates for parents and their children. It avoids over-romanticising the re-establishment of connection between father and daughter, between extended families, dear friends and their shared pasts and experiences. What it does do, particularly elegantly, is explore a difficult truth about someone’s past and the secrets they know they cannot carry to the grave.
Charity Norman Remember Me Allen and Unwin 2022 PB 320pp $32.99
Karen Chisholm blogs from austcrimefiction.org, where she posts book reviews as well as author biographies.
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