Never forget you, p.7
Never Forget You, page 7
He showed her how the oven worked and where the light switches were, and then they toured the upstairs, which had two good-sized bedrooms with a bathroom sandwiched in between. ‘You’re probably better off in the front room,’ he said. ‘Bigger bed.’
She nodded. She’d noticed the back bedroom had only a single. The lilac walls and the small wardrobe and desk suggested it was intended for his niece. She would have chosen the front bedroom anyway, even if she’d had to sleep on the floor, for its view over the loch through a large sash window. Thankfully it had a king-sized bed, currently bare of anything but a mattress.
This would be his room, she realised. It suited him. There were some stunning black-and-white landscape photographs on one wall, and above the bed was a large print of what seemed to be a ruined church, ivy winding around the tall, elegant buttresses of a glassless Gothic window. She was about to ask where it had been taken when there was a noise downstairs, and a husky female voice called out Ben’s name.
‘Up here!’ he yelled back, and a moment later, a rather short and rather round woman with sandy wavy hair and a no-nonsense expression appeared in the doorway, carrying what looked like a rolled-up duvet in a bag. She was joined by a rather breathless little girl with long, dark pigtails and large round glasses. ‘I carried the pillowcases and sheets all the way here!’ she announced proudly to Ben, then she spotted their guest. ‘Hiya!’ she said brightly. ‘You must be the lady who’s staying in our cottage for a wee bit.’
‘Yes … and thank you. I’m guessing you must be Willow.’
The girl beamed at her. Shyness was definitely not a problem for this one. ‘Have you seen my room? You can stay in that one if you like.’ She lowered her voice and leaned forward as if imparting serious information that the two other adults in the room wouldn’t understand. ‘It’s purple. You know, for girls.’
She stifled a smile. ‘I saw it. It’s lovely.’
‘This bed will do fine enough,’ the woman said as she dumped the bag onto the bed and held out a hand. ‘I’m Norina – Ben’s aunt. Don’t you worry, pet. We’ll make sure you’re okay until everything gets sorted out. Oh, and I thought you could do with this …’ Norina handed her an older-looking smartphone. ‘Just in case you need anything. The B&B is just around the corner, and we can be here in a jiffy.’
‘Th-thank you.’ She took the phone and clutched it to her chest. They were all being so kind it made her eyes fill, and she had to take in a breath before she could talk again. ‘I just wish I could do something to repay you. Can I help you with the B&B tomorrow? There must be something I can do there.’
Norina regarded her carefully. ‘I could do with an extra pair of hands at breakfast, and there’s always a heap of washing to be done. Do you think you’re up to it?’
She nodded, smiling, and hoped desperately she was being truthful, because for the first time that day, she didn’t feel completely useless.
‘What’s your name?’ Willow asked.
She felt a slight tremor, similar to the feeling she’d experienced outside the café, but maybe she was getting used to coming up blank when someone asked that question because it was only that – a tremor. An aftershock. She blinked at the little girl. How did she answer this? ‘Um … I don’t have one at the moment.’
‘Everybody has a name!’
‘I know … And I do too. It’s just …’
Before she could find the right words, Ben knelt down and explained the situation to his niece quickly and simply in a way that made sense to a child her age. Willow nodded when he’d finished, accepting what he’d told her without doubt, but it obviously had set her thinking because, after a few moments, she said, ‘I sometimes have pretend names when I’m playing warrior princess games with my friends. Perhaps you could have one of those? You know, just ’til you remember yours?’
‘A warrior princess name?’ Ben asked, looking perplexed.
Willow laughed, snorting and covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled. It was adorable. ‘A pretend name. One you use for a bit ’til you go back to your real one.’
‘It makes sense,’ Ben said, and both he and his aunt looked enquiringly at their guest.
She nodded her agreement. ‘I suppose it does. I can’t just be called “Oi, you!” for the next—’ she swallowed as she realised she had no idea how long it might be ‘—the next couple of weeks.’
Willow bounced up and down. ‘Can I help? I always come up with the best names, don’t I, Uncle Ben? I know … Moana!’
Ben gave her a weary look. ‘We are not naming her after someone from a Disney film. Besides, you named your hamster Moana, and it would be confusing to have two of them.’
‘Elsa, then!’ Willow said, equally hopeful.
Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Willow concentrated with the kind of fierceness only a five-year-old could muster. Finally, she looked up and said, ‘How about “Alice”? Like the book we’re reading at bedtime?’
‘Alice in Wonderland?’ Ben asked.
Willow nodded earnestly. ‘Because Alice is lost in a place she doesn’t know too.’
The look of hope on the little girl’s face was too much for her to bear. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll be Alice.’ She might as well. It was as good a name as any.
Chapter Eleven
Eleven months before the wedding.
I STOOD OUTSIDE the fancy French brasserie in Covent Garden, tugging at the worn ends of my coat sleeves repeatedly. It was chilly, so I pulled it closer around my body. The rich blue sky was studded with stars, meaning there was no cloud cover, and while the shift dress I’d borrowed from Lo was a decent thickness, it was also sleeveless.
Just as my toes were starting to freeze inside a pair of Lo’s heels, Justin arrived. He was wearing a beautiful suit, as always, with his smart shoes and his camel-coloured coat. His sandy-blond hair was perfectly combed, with just a little bit of rakish floppiness at the fringe. When he smiled at me, the jittery sensation that had plagued me all afternoon intensified.
‘You look lovely,’ he said and leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.
I closed my eyes before he pulled away, inhaling his crisp aftershave, then reminded myself I shouldn’t read anything into a peck on the cheek. He probably greeted everyone that way.
The next couple of minutes were a blur. He ushered me inside, greeting the maître d’ by name, and we were led through the elegant restaurant, full of thick white linen and sparkling crystal, to our table. I was slightly confused as Justin pulled out a chair for me because I’d been picturing a cosy little table for two, but this one was set for four.
A waiter appeared. ‘Would you like to order a drink, sir?’
‘Not just at the moment,’ Justin said, handing the wine menu back to him. ‘We’ll wait until the rest of the party arrive.’
I stopped admiring the gilt and crystal of the restaurant’s decor and whipped my head round to look at him. ‘Rest of the party?’
Justin beamed back at me from across the table. His smile was one of the most beautiful things about him. ‘I should have told you, I know, but I wanted it to be a surprise.’ He’d only just finished saying the words when he looked towards the door. ‘Oh, look. Here they are now …’
I followed his gaze to where two immaculately dressed men were standing. One was tall and stocky, with the face of an East End gangster, but when he arrived at our table and introduced himself as Felix Lambert, and his partner as Haru Morishita, instead of having the voice to match his appearance, he sounded more like Sir Patrick Stewart.
‘Felix and Haru are two of my oldest friends,’ Justin said and then returned the favour with the introduction. They both gave me a kiss on each cheek, and then we all took our seats. ‘I’ve asked them along this evening, not only because they’re a terrifically fun couple, but because Felix here is a composer, and we have something we’d like to discuss with you.’
My smile was plastic as I looked back at Justin. I knew I’d told my sister this wasn’t a date, but I realised that up until that moment, I’d been hoping it was, that maybe he saw me as more than a project to work on.
Justin explained that Felix was composing a piece of music for a dance he was choreographing and that Haru was going to be the soloist performing it. It would be the opening number in an evening of contemporary dance that Justin’s company was working on which would ultimately run at Sadler’s Wells.
‘Justin told me you are very talented,’ Felix said. ‘Of course, we would need to audition you properly, hear you playing the actual piece, but I think you might be just the right person to bring the freshness and dynamism we’re looking for.’
My mouth went dry. This was amazing. All I’d ever wanted was to play professionally, but just as soon as the elation flushed through me, terror arrived hot on its heels. ‘I … I really don’t think I’m—’
Justin swatted my objection away, grabbing my hand and looking into my eyes. ‘Of course you’re good enough!’
I swallowed. That wasn’t what I’d been about to say. He smiled at me, as if that alone would solve any and all problems the universe held. As I looked at him, I was tempted to believe him, but I knew I wasn’t that lucky. ‘This would mean playing … in front of people?’
Justin’s smile held, but confusion clouded his eyes. ‘Who else would you play for?’
‘And there’d be a fee, of course,’ Felix added, as if he wasn’t really listening to our part of the conversation. ‘And I assume you’ve been in a recording studio before?’
I brightened. ‘A studio?’
‘It seems like the best idea,’ Justin said. ‘Live music for dance performances can be so tricky. Sorry … I’ve told Felix how great you are with a crowd around you, but I think if the audition turns out okay, it might be for the best. Especially for a – how shall we put it? – a less seasoned performer.’
I didn’t bother telling him he’d got the wrong end of the stick, that I wasn’t disappointed in the slightest about not performing live. ‘I’m just so grateful you’d think of me,’ I said, smiling so hard my cheeks ached. Maybe there was a way forward for me after all? A career I could carve out for myself that didn’t involve stuffy chamber orchestras and stifling solos?
I relaxed as the meal continued. Justin spoke the most, dominating the conversation, and I couldn’t help but marvel at him. He was so together, so confident. I tried not to stare at him too much, sure Felix had clocked me adoring him from afar, but my eyes were drawn to him when I wasn’t consciously making them rest on something else.
It’s enough that he thinks I’m talented, I told myself, that he thinks I’m worth something. I hadn’t felt that way in a long time.
Even so, as the bill was paid and Felix and Haru began to shift in their chairs, readying themselves to go home, my heart sank. It had been one of the most magical nights of my life. When would I ever get a chance to eat somewhere like this again? Or to feel as if I was in the middle of something, doing something important with important people, rather than always looking on from the fringes?
They all air-kissed me and each other goodbye, and after Felix and Haru left, Justin helped me into my coat, and we walked outside into the brisk March night. I expected him to say his farewells to me too, but he said, ‘Why don’t I walk you to the station?’
I blinked at him. ‘It’s okay. I’m used to getting the train on my own.’
Why? Why did I say that?
He glanced towards the narrow roads leading back towards The Strand. ‘I don’t like to think of you walking out there by yourself.’ He paused to look at me intently. ‘Not when you look like you do in that dress.’
I was glad it was dark because he couldn’t see how furiously I was blushing. ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’
He smiled again then, but this one was different. It wasn’t the dazzling one he’d blessed us with many times over dinner, like a floodlight, illuminating everything. This one was a spotlight trained solely on me. ‘It would be my pleasure.’
Chapter Twelve
Now.
ALICE SAT ON the edge of the bed, the duvet wrapped around her shoulders. She was wearing brushed cotton pyjamas from a bag of clothes that one of Norina’s friends had been going to give to the charity shop but had given to her instead. Not everything had fitted, but there was enough basic clothing – jeans, jumpers, and tops. She’d also discovered a new pack of underwear in the bag, along with some basic toiletries, which she’d suspected Norina had bought from somewhere in town while she and Ben had been at the hospital.
The blind was up, and Alice stared out of the window into the night. She’d tried to sleep but, despite her exhaustion, she’d only managed a few fitful hours before opening her eyes, feeling fully awake again.
A security light illuminated the narrow drive that ran between the row of cottages and the iron railings overlooking the loch, throwing bright rippling reflections onto the water, but beyond that … Nothing. Here, at the beginning of the Highlands, there was little light pollution, so the night was complete. Even the hills on the other side of the water had been swallowed by the darkness. Sometimes she thought she could discern their shapes, but then the blackness shifted, and she wasn’t sure if it was just her mind playing tricks on her.
She glanced across at where her jeans, jumper and underwear sat neatly folded on the chair in the corner. This was what her life was now … a few sparse details, the rest of the picture lost. All she had was a small pile of clothes and a borrowed name.
Alice. She rolled the word around her mind. It was as if it was almost right but not quite, like a pair of shoes, no matter how comfortable, that belonged to someone else.
She turned her attention back to something more concrete, the clothes she’d been wearing that day. She’d examined them carefully when she’d got undressed. They were good quality. She’d recognised the designer brands instantly. How? She shook her head, still wondering why she remembered those names when her own was lost to her.
Who am I?
This was the question that had not only roused her from her sleep but prevented her from sinking back into it. It was as if, now the shock of the day had worn off, she was starting to come to grips with the implication of what was happening to her.
She was so grateful to Ben – her rescuer – and Norina for jumping to the aid of a stranger so quickly, even to little Willow for brightening her evening, but when she thought of them, they seemed so solid, so certain of their identities and their places in the world. Whereas she felt … unconnected. Set adrift. In her more outlandish mental wanderings, she wondered if she might simply evaporate. After all, there was nothing much to anchor her to reality.
Willow’s serious face as she’d talked about the purple bedroom being for girls came into her mind, and at first, her mood lifted, but then there was a sudden drop, like a roller coaster pitching downwards after a slow and suspenseful climb.
Do I have children? Are they missing me, wondering where I was when it was time to tuck them into bed this evening? Is there a husband or a partner frantically searching for me?
When she’d had a shower earlier that evening, she’d checked her abdomen, looking for any tell-tale scars. There hadn’t been any evidence of a C-section, but of course that didn’t rule children out.
She looked down at her finger. It was too dark to see properly, so she reached over and turned on the bedside light. There was a faint silvery mark at the base of her left ring finger, and when she touched the spot, it was smoother than the surrounding skin. The more she examined the mark, the more certain she became it had been left by a wedding band or possibly an engagement ring.
Had it been stolen or lost, as her bag and phone had been? There might have been a deeper dent in her flesh if it had recently been removed, but how long would it take for something like that to fade? Only minutes, she suspected. Hours at the most. Which didn’t help her much. She could have been married five years ago or engaged yesterday, and there was no way to tell which.
The only other piece of jewellery she wore was a silver pendant – a small silver bee on a chain that she’d discovered during the dizzying rounds of hospital tests. She touched it gently. It was pretty but somehow seemed out of step with her other belongings.
However, she was too tired to ponder that, so she turned the light off and went back to staring at the loch. At first, it was utter darkness, but as she sat and patiently waited, the small details she’d noticed earlier came slowly back into focus, shades of grey against the blackness of the night.
Now that the truth of her situation was finally hitting her, she’d expected she’d feel more emotional, but she was oddly calm. How could you grieve for a life you never even remembered you’d had? She just knew it was missing, felt the gaping hole inside of her. But it didn’t ache. It was just … empty. The only thing that niggled was one word the doctor had said at the hospital.
Trauma.
She lay down on the bed, spread the duvet out over herself and stared at the ceiling, making a show of enticing her body into sleep, even though she doubted it would cooperate. If there was anything keeping her awake more than the million and one questions circuiting her head, it was the answers to those questions – answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Chapter Thirteen
Now.
‘AH, THERE YOU are,’ Norina said to Ben as he walked into the kitchen at the B&B for his breakfast. ‘Can you look at the sink in room eight this morning? It’s not draining again.’
He sighed. Having plunged it the previous weekend, he’d hoped it would have been sorted. ‘Will do.’
The guests occupying that room didn’t leave until after eleven. When Ben got around to checking the sink, he found Alice in the room, making swift work of changing the sheets and pillowcases. ‘Hi,’ he said when he saw her. ‘Just here to do a bit of light plumbing. I’m under orders.’
