Remember Me, by Charity Norman.

 

 

           Emily Kirkland’s comfortable life in London as a children’s book illustrator is changed irrevocably when she receives an absurdly early morning phone call from her father’s next-door neighbour – in New Zealand.  And the next-door neighbour is widow Raewyn Parata who, with her son Ira, Emily’s childhood best friend, runs a farm on the block next to Felix Kirkland’s. 

            Early morning phone calls seldom presage good news, and this is no exception:  Emily’s Dad has Alzheimer’s disease, diagnosed when he recently crashed his car and his symptoms were found to be more than concussion.  Could Emily return to Aotearoa to care for him for a little while, and to decide with her twin siblings the best solution for future care of their dear Dad, once a respected family Doctor in Tawanui, the small East Coast town to which the family migrated from England, and now suddenly a confused old man who doesn’t remember anyone.

            Fair enough.  Emily will do her duty.  She’ll stay for three weeks, long enough to ‘arrange things’.  She had never felt close to her father anyway;  he was always very remote from his supposed Loved Ones, preferring to give his respect and attention to his patients to such an extent that when his last child left home, Emily’s Mum left, too.  Yes, Emily will do her bit, but she is already looking forward to leaving her unhappy beginnings in Tawanui (before she has even arrived!), for her memories also include a very rare Cold-Case:  the disappearance of Raewyn Parata’s brilliant daughter Leah, who went walking in the Ruahine Ranges on a scientific exploration – and never returned.  Emily was the last to see her alive.  She does NOT want to relive those memories!

            But her father changes her mind.  Swinging wildly in behaviour between not recognising her at all, and in his attempts at normalcy revealing horrifying, long-kept secrets, Emily knows she must stay and care for him until HE decides his fate, despite huge opposition from her siblings who are screeching for Power of Attorney so that they can sell his property and shunt him off to the local rest home.

            Decide his fate he does, and that is what makes Ms Norman’s story so clever:  she writes in clear, beautiful, everyday prose of ordinary people trying to make sense of a disease that we all greatly fear – the horror of forgetting who we are, our very selves – and weaves a stunning suspense plot into the mix as well.  And sibling rivalry has never been so baldly portrayed.  FIVE STARS.    

                 

               

 

         

 

Kiss Myself Goodbye, by Ferdinand Mount.           Non-fiction

 

 

           That tired old adage ‘fact is always stranger than fiction’ applies beautifully here as British author Ferdinand Mount recounts the tempestuous life and times of his Aunt, Betty Mount, an extraordinary milker of every opportunity and lover of excitement – and men, for Aunt Betty’s husband Uncle Greig (his name was George but that name sounded SO pedestrian) was not the only man in her life.  Or her only husband.  In fact, she sometimes divested herself of her husbands with unseemly and, in several instances, illegal haste.  Aunt Betty was a bigamist more than once, and no-one was more shocked to discover this than Ferdinand and his sister Francie when he decided to delve into the family history and, thanks to the detailed birth, marriage and death records he consulted in the multiple countries associated with Betty and her family, he has produced a fitting and authentic account of an extraordinary woman’s life.

            Ferdinand and his sister were invited for holidays at his Aunt and Uncle’s  coastal residences, as company for Betty’s daughter Georgie (Ferdinand’s mother remarked unkindly that Betty went away one Christmas and came back with a baby) and, for a time, an adopted toddler daughter called Celeste whom everyone loved but had disappeared mysteriously and permanently by the time the next lot of holidays rolled around.  Despite renting every property they lived in, there was no shortage of money;  Unca and Munca (as they instructed the children to call them) also had the long-term rental of a suite at Claridge’s hotel – nicknamed The Pub, excellent accommodation when one attended a West End Musical, as they all often did.  Unca and Munca were always generous hosts, but there were some members of their family who were not as popular, like Buster, Munca’s supposed brother, who sometimes let his daughter stay during the holidays, but always seem to be in a bad mood and a hurry.  He was also known for his many marriages (seven) and riding a motor cycle on the Wall of Death.  Who could resist such a dashing relative?  Until research revealed that Buster’s origins were very different from Munca’s official story.

            As was Munca and her sister Doris’s true history, originating in the slums of Sheffield and ending in wealthy and celebrated comfort, thanks to Munca’s vague reference once to ‘my sugar daddy’.   Ferdinand Mount’s reminiscences of his feckless Aunt Betty – some of it in exhaustive and pedantic detail, is nevertheless a hugely entertaining record of a singular life, a life in which every risk was taken and opportunity seized, regardless of who got hurt along the way.  And there were so many who did.  FIVE STARS.        

             

 

The Mother, by Jane Caro.

 

            Miriam Duffy is a successful Real Estate Agent on Sydney’s North Shore.  She has a loving husband, two successful adult daughters, one of whom is the mother of a darling granddaughter.  Her cup should really runneth over – in fact, when Jane Caro’s dark and disturbing suspense novel opens, Miriam and her husband are at the wedding of their youngest, gorgeous Ally, to Nick, the man of her dreams.  They are tying the knot after a brief whirlwind courtship and, because Ally has always been a bit of a Drama Queen, Miriam is secretly pleased that someone else will now be custodian of all the teary tantrums:  her daughter has always been hard work, but Love should Conquer All, and Economist Ally is clearly thrilled to be a handsome, charming Vet’s wife, even if they do have to move to a nondescript little town in the Hunter Valley where Nick has found work at a Vet Practice.  Yes, the future looks rosy – and infinitely more peaceful!

            Until the family’s life is upended by the sudden, tragic death of Miriam’s husband and, as if that weren’t awful enough, Love hasn’t Conquered All in the Hunter Valley:  Ally has produced a beautiful baby boy but doesn’t seem to want her family to visit, or see the baby – until Nick calls Miriam and asks for her assistance.  He is frightened that Ally is having a breakdown, and needs help – which she certainly does, for three months after giving birth, she is pregnant again. 

            Miriam rushes to her daughter’s side, and is horrified by the change in her;  she obviously loves her little son but the honeymoon seems to be over with her husband and Miriam, a rampant feminist – and not a character I could warm to at first – starts to notice cracks in Nick’s charming, considerate façade.  He seems to be doing his best to convince people that Ally is mentally unstable to the extent that he sends her to a Psychiatrist, who arranges visits from a mental health nurse – who advises Ally that it is time she goes back home to mum before she gets killed!

            This is a take-no-prisoners story of domestic abuse, so prevalent in society, and so accepted;  Miriam’s eventual solution to her daughter’s heartbreak has far-reaching and terrible consequences, but if someone has to die, it won’t be her beloved daughter and grandchildren.

            Ms Caro has written a novel that everyone should read:  your family is not your punching bag.  FIVE STARS.