Up to then she'd felt okay , but away from her bed , in the strange room , sitting in her father's favourite chair , she felt lonely and cried .sx She kicked out at the policemen as they approached .sx " How did it happen ?sx " one of them asked .sx " Did you push him , love ?sx Is that what happened ?sx " .sx Stella blew her nose .sx " He fell , I think .sx " .sx " You think .sx But you're not sure ?sx " .sx She shook her head .sx One of them fetched her coat from the hall and draped it across her shoulders .sx Then he touched her on the sleeve and said , " Come on , love , we're going for a drive .sx " .sx They led her to a waiting car and drove her through the town .sx And she still remembered that journey , even more vividly than the arrest of her father or the death of the policeman ; the smell of walnut veneer and red leather that drenched the interior , and the genial bell which rang each time they approached a junction .sx At the police station she was taken to a small room where an elderly lady sat at a broad desk .sx She offered Stella milk and digestive biscuits , spoke imperiously about the weather and the state of her roses , and between gaps in the small talk threw in questions of pertinence and tact , like little darts .sx Where was her mummy ?sx What did her daddy do for a living ?sx Where were they both last Friday ?sx But Stella sensed a trap .sx Back then she had a nose for those things .sx And so she sipped her milk , chewed a biscuit , and lied beautifully , effortlessly , rubbing her eyes for emphasis .sx " Last Friday we went to the park .sx Dad bought me ice cream and a bag of crumbs and we fed the ducks .sx " .sx " Dooks ?sx " .sx Stella laughed and rubbed her nose .sx " Don't be daft .sx Ducks .sx " .sx The elderly lady returned the smile and fingered her necklace .sx She asked Stella to wait and left the room .sx It seemed colder when she'd gone , darker , and Stella imagined that she saw malignant faces in the patterns on the tiled walls .sx The old lady had helped her to forget , but alone the true horror of what had happened rushed in on her like a wave .sx She began to cry , crashing her fists on the table until the biscuits and orange juice fell to the floor .sx The last thing she remembered was being pinned to the table by a burly policeman and someone plunging a needle into her arm .sx She kicked out feebly , and then fell into a deep sleep , dreaming of dolphins skimming the surface of a wide grey sea .sx Her mind always drifted to the sea in times of trouble .sx Clear , warm shallows with fine white sand , snug cabins inside a safe old steamer , swimming with the dolphins , sleek , sweet , good-natured .sx On childhood holidays she would stand on a cliff and watch them , plunging in schools through the surf .sx And the sight of them always brought on other memories , of other holidays at other resorts , when her father still had two good legs and chased her along the beach .sx Sea , sand and childhood .sx The holy trinity .sx Cucumber sandwiches and chocolate flakes , liver and onions , a dirty face scrubbed clean by a damp handkerchief .sx Then home on the train , smelling of sand and saliva .sx But then someone brushes against her and the memories dissolve .sx She sees the corridor , the stained walls , the parkland that stretches from sight beyond the tall french windows .sx In an hour she will meet the doctor , who will shake her hand , take her pulse , and tell her not to worry .sx And Stella will slip into the offered chair and do her best to remember .sx Memories , the doctor tells her , are the best cure of all .sx Better than pills , warm baths or massage .sx He points to a shambling figure at the end of the corridor .sx Take Annie .sx Why , only last year she was in a terrible state , close to the end .sx But now the power of memory has healed her , or at least eased her condition .sx Once , it was all she could do to wash her own face .sx But now she takes a bath on her own , without help , writes letters to a sister in Southport , and twice a year she visits her husband's grave .sx Only the other day she went with Stephen here to the coast , and together they won a cutlery set on the bingo .sx He laughs , and Stella bites her nails .sx It's not that she is being unhelpful , but how else can she prove to them her health , her innocence ?sx After all , Annie is ill , deeply , stubbornly ill , ill beyond a cure .sx Her sick mind has cooked up a thousand ways to insinuate itself into the patterns of their expectations .sx And what is wrong with Stella that a couple of aspirin can't fix ?sx A cough , a headache , a touch of frayed nerves .sx In the old days they would have given her a spoonful of medicine and told her to go home .sx Now everyone went too far .sx They killed you with their concern .sx Operating when a few pills would do , stuffing you with chemicals and radioactive drinks .sx She would smile at the nurses when they handed her the pills , and then spit them out when their backs were turned .sx Sometimes they checked , but there was a hollow under her tongue in which she hid them with ease .sx " Anything wrong ?sx " she'd ask , smiling and narrowing her eyes .sx And they'd look sheepish and carry on with their rounds .sx That was one thing that approaching old age hadn't stolen from her ; the ability to lie and be believed .sx But other things had gone .sx Taken , treacherously , while her back was turned .sx The clear skin and auburn hair , the set of strong white teeth that had turned yellow and weak and simply rotted in her mouth one year .sx When she was first admitted to the hospital she lost her voice with the awfulness of the place .sx The stained carpets and green walls , the winnowed screams from adjacent wards .sx A doctor called her into his office and asked impertinent questions about her childhood and early marriage , but she couldn't answer .sx Every time she tried to speak her lips turned rigid and cold .sx When the doctor answered the phone she glanced down at the notes he'd written .sx Much of it was indecipherable , but two words were fixed in her memory .sx One was " stubborn " the other " naive" .sx Naive ?sx Maybe .sx But stubborn ?sx And after she'd spent the balance of her life obeying orders .sx She looked at the doctor with a fresh contempt .sx That was the problem with silence .sx It was loaded with unconscious motives .sx But the other hospital , the one they took her to as a child , was quite different .sx It welcomed the young , lived for them .sx And young she was , back then .sx Too young maybe .sx Half done .sx She awoke with a searing pain in her arm and a bubbling nausea .sx Sunlight slanted through the blinds above her head and a fat nurse sat at her side .sx Stella coughed and moved her arm , and the nurse took her pulse and called for a doctor .sx She was given something to drink and then she fell asleep once more .sx A week later she was strong enough to sit up in bed .sx The needle was taken from her arm and a watery breakfast brought .sx Within a fortnight she was receiving visitors in style , propped up against a bank of pillows .sx The grey lady from the police station , and an earnest young man who asked endless questions about her home life .sx But no sign of her father or mother , or the big policeman whose hand she'd bitten .sx Yet all the nurses would say was , " Forget about them .sx They've gone for a trip .sx Just concentrate on making yourself well again .sx " .sx " Gone where ?sx " .sx " Abroad .sx A long way away .sx " .sx " Then where will I live ?sx Who will look after me ?sx " .sx " Don't worry .sx Soon you'll be well enough to go to school .sx See your old friends and teachers again .sx You'd like that , wouldn't you ?sx " .sx " No .sx " said Stella stubbornly .sx " I wouldn't .sx " .sx But her recovery was slow .sx Much slower , she heard the doctors say , than they had expected .sx One day she would feel fine and strong , ready to face the world and all it could throw at her , and the next all her hope and strength seemed to have drained away in the night .sx If she tried to get up on such a day she would faint before her feet had touched the floor , or vomit into one of the zinc buckets that the nurses kept at her side .sx On the good days she made friends with the children in the adjacent beds .sx But no sooner had she learnt their names , exchanged addresses and favourite colours , than they had gone , transferred to another hospital , or made well and taken away by their parents while she was asleep .sx So the nurses became her friends , and the little dramas she saw played out through the window above her head ; swollen flocks of migrating birds , high , attenuated clouds strewn like tissue across the sky , and the ruddy splendour of the sunsets through the trees .sx At night , when the ward slept , she would carefully pull back the blinds and stare out at the sky , trying to remember the names of the stars and planets that the dead policeman had fixed in her mind .sx Neptune , Leo , The Great Bear .sx On a clear night she watched the moon rise above the trees , breathless , impatient , as a shadow covered its face and she saw her first eclipse .sx A dog barked in the distance , and she slipped beneath the sheets , shivering , exhilarated .sx The next day she was dying to tell someone .sx But the adjacent beds were empty , and to tell the nurses would have been self-defeating , they would have given her sleeping pills , or else lashed the blinds more firmly to the window .sx So she said nothing .sx Kept the encounters hidden , like a little book of experiences that grew fatter by the night .sx The darkness gave her strength and hope .sx But in the daylight she would listen to the laughter of the children playing in a nearby school , and cry at the thought of the world she'd lost .sx The other world , outside the margins of the window .sx Then one day her mother appeared in the ward .sx Stella didn't recognize her at first , it had been so long since she'd seen her , and her face was lined and drawn where once it had been smooth and full .sx But her voice hadn't changed .sx She sat at the side of the bed , clutching another baby and sucking pear-drops .sx " So , you're all right , then ?sx " she kept saying .sx " There's nothing that you want ?sx " .sx " I want to go home .sx " .sx Her mother pulled the pear-drop from her mouth and looked at it .sx " Well , you can't .sx You're ill .sx The doctor says you must stay .sx " .sx " Where's dad ?sx " .sx " Abroad .sx He's gone abroad .sx " .sx She made one last visit , and then stopped coming .sx Now Stella's memories are confined to those two brief encounters and the last few days before her father's arrest .sx She can picture her mother quite clearly then , in a scarve sic !sx and pinafore , breast-feeding the baby at the kitchen table .sx Stella often wondered what became of her younger sister .sx She had dreams in which she appeared as a rich widow , to pluck her from penury and the hospital .sx She did try once to contact her , but the man in the council offices said it was too long ago , there weren't enough details .sx She was ashamed now to think about it , but when he'd asked her sister's name she couldn't remember .sx And memory is everything .sx It determines who we are .sx Without it we might as well be dead .sx And each year a little more is chipped away , like a spit of land eroded by the sea .sx Stella glances across at Annie , and with a shiver sees herself in ten years time .sx Once she was young , pretty perhaps , with boyfriends and fond memories .sx But now everything she has known has been fragmented into a desultory jumble , like a recording type , broken and reassembled at random .sx