“Well, do you know what? You don’t have to remember, Anne. You don’t have to remember any of it. The more I’ve been thinking about it, the more I think you’re fortunate.”
Anne rolled her head to meet Constance’s eyes. “Fortunate?”
“Do you know how many people in this world would love to forget their past? I, for one. I wish I never had another thought about my daughter or that awful time. I’d love to forget that Charles suffered for months before he died. So, yes, it’s a blessing and a gift that you’ve forgotten. You should let the past go completely and embrace the present, fully.”
Anne knitted her brows. “But I truly want to remember, Constance, and I must remember. I must know who I am and where I came from.”
Constance had an answer ready, having imagined this conversation only an hour ago. “Then I say, the best way to remember is to stop trying. Stop straining. Stop trying to remember anything. It’s when we relax and let go that buried thoughts, ideas and memories bubble up from our subconscious. Isn’t that what the shrinks and self-help books say?”
Anne let Constance’s words settle.
“Do you recall anything you said while under hypnosis?”
“Yes, but what I remember most is a man. I saw him, and I felt so strongly that I knew him.”
Constance leaned in with interest. “A man? Did you tell Dr. Weiss about this man?”
“No… I didn’t tell her everything I saw. It’s hard to explain but, when I was under hypnosis, I felt that I was both in my body and yet out of it, looking on, exploring as if I were someone else. It was hard to speak because I was experiencing so much. And then Dr. Weiss’ voice became an intrusion.”
Constance slowly rose to her feet. “So who is, or who was, this man?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but I felt so drawn to him. He was in uniform. I don’t know what rank, or anything like that, but he had a strong, handsome face, with striking blue eyes. He looked at me with such soft and adoring eyes. His gaze touched my heart. He came toward me and asked if I wanted to dance… And then, dates and times seemed to melt together, and I didn’t know where I was, or what happened.”
Constance folded her arms. “Did he call you by your name?”
Anne stared with a transcendent expression. “Yes… He called me Anne. And then I knew my name, my complete name.”
Constance waited, and her breathing slowed.
Anne’s eyes were direct. “My name is Anne Billings.”
Constance straightened. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. As soon as the man spoke my first name, my last name was obvious. I knew it, without any doubt.”
Constance felt a chill run through her. “Anne… Dr. Weiss told me that when she asked you for the year, you said it was 1942.”
Anne lowered her eyes, worried. “Yes, that’s right. It was clear to me. Yes, it was October 1942… and then I saw images and faces from other years as well, from 1944, I think.”
Constance struggled to summon words to fit the strange conversation. “But you see, Anne, your entire session, what you saw and felt, must have been a dream or a hallucination. Maybe it was a result of the medication you’ve been taking. And you just said the session scared you and confused you.”
Anne sighed. “That’s right, it did scare me. It had a peculiar reality about it. That’s what I was thinking when I stood outside on that window ledge. I stepped outside to confirm to myself that I wasn’t dreaming. When I was under hypnosis, that world—the world I was seeing, smelling and hearing—was more real to me than this world is. That world felt like my world, familiar and real, and just out of my reach. I wanted to touch it; pierce it, live in it, but I couldn’t. This world seems like a dream, a weird, foggy dream that has no basis in reality.”
Anne felt Constance’s gaze move across her face.
Anne continued. “And what about the clothes I was wearing when I was found? They were in the style of the 1940s, weren’t they? Why is this world so strange and foreign to me, and why do I want to go home to the world I experienced under hypnosis?”
Constance’s eyes were flat and directionless. “Well… None of this makes any sense to me, Anne. It just doesn’t.”
Anne sat up, adjusting the pillows and propping her back against the headboard. “I want to have another session with Dr. Weiss. Can that be arranged?”
Constance glanced away. “No… we decided that she wasn’t the right doctor for you.”
“I don’t understand,” Anne said.
“She was upset by the session, Anne. She didn’t want to continue. We both agreed we should find another doctor… one more experienced in, well, your kind of mental issue.”
Anne’s head lowered. “Mental issue? Do you think I’m insane, then?”
“No, Anne, I don’t. But I do think you need time to rest and to stop thinking so much. Thinking too much will drive anyone crazy. I can tell you that for sure because that’s what happened to me after Ashley was murdered. I nearly thought myself into a nervous breakdown and an early grave.”
Anne gave her a sidelong glance. “I don’t know if I can stop thinking about it.”
Constance nodded. “Okay, well, I wasn’t going to tell you, but Dr. Miles is going to call you tonight.”
“Dr. Miles. Why?”
“He wants to ask you to dinner, and I think you should accept. You need to get out of here, see something of the City; meet people, do things, go places. It will get your mind off all this. What you need is a distraction and some fun. Jon is a fine man, a dedicated doctor, and a good friend. I hope you will accept his invitation.”
Anne kept her eyes on Constance. “I don’t know if I’m ready to…”
Constance interrupted. “… Of course you’re ready. It’s time to get out of your head and out into the world. You’re young, pretty, intelligent and oh, so mysterious. Enjoy it. Will you try?”
“I suppose so.”
“Good. And now I’m going to leave you. Try to rest for a couple of hours. I’ll wake you for dinner.”
Constance moved to the windows, pulled the curtains closed and started for the door. She paused before opening it, not looking back toward Anne.
“Anne, can I trust you not to return to that window?”
“Yes, Constance. I promise.”
“Perhaps you’re taking too much medication. I’ll talk to Jon about it when he calls tonight.”
“I promise, Constance. Don’t worry… but thank you for worrying about me and thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never be able to thank you enough or pay you back for your many generosities and kindnesses.”
Constance turned to face her. “Anne… consider this house your home. Consider me… well, a kind of mother who only wants the best for you. Whatever you need or want, just ask, and I’ll make sure you have it.”
Anne was touched by Constance’s words, but also a bit uncomfortable by the desperate undertone in her voice. It was apparent that Constance was very lonely and determined to give Anne everything she wasn’t able to give Ashley.
“You sleep now, Anne. I hired a chef to cook us a delicious dinner tonight, with an exquisite 2005 bottle of Bordeaux: a very good year. Even with your medication, you can have a small glass. It will do you good. Now, the menu is a surprise, but I think you’ll like it. Are you allergic to anything?”
Anne smiled faintly with a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“Well, not to worry. It won’t be too far off the beaten path. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”
“Constance… Do you think I’ll ever be able to find myself?”
Constance hesitated. “That’s a big question, my dear. I’m still working on that one myself.”
CHAPTER 10
“It feels so good to be out in the fresh air,” Anne said, as she and Jon Miles strolled along MacDougal Street in West Greenwich Village.
“Are you cold?” Jon asked.
“A little, but it feels good.” Anne was wearing a tan ca
shmere coat Constance had purchased for her. She turned up the collar and adjusted her red beret so that it was tilted to one side.
“I like the beret. Did I tell you that?” Jon asked.
Anne didn’t look at him, but she smiled, pleased. “Yes, as we left Constance’s building, when the doorman flagged us a taxi.”
“Well, I’m probably going to say it again. I hope that’s all right.”
“Yes, Dr. Miles. That is quite all right,”
Jon made a face of mock pain. “And please, stop calling me Dr. Miles. Tonight, I am officially and definitely no longer your doctor. Your official doctor is now Dr. Lambert.”
“Pardon me. I will try to remember, but I may forget from time to time before I get it right.”
“Well, if you do forget, it’s okay, as long as you drop the doctor part and just call me Jon or Miles.”
Anne glanced up at him, brightly. “Miles… I like that. Yes, may I call you Miles?”
“Of course. That’s what my friends called me in college and medical school.”
“It suits you. Yes, now, that I’ll remember.”
“Good, and as I said in the taxi, I want you to choose any café or restaurant or even a diner if that strikes your fancy. Oh, and how is your leg? Is the walking too much?”
“No, it feels much better. It will do me good to walk. In fact, didn’t you recommend I take walks to strengthen it?”
“Yes, I suppose I did.”
Anne took in the crowded street with its yoga studios, shiny pizzerias, quirky clothing shops and beer bars. There were narrow cafés, novelty shops, and a coffee bar with fresh bread, pastry and muffins displayed in the windows.
“I like this street,” Anne said. “It’s festive. But what is a yoga studio?”
“Well… let’s see, it’s a place where people come together and do yoga. You know, they put themselves in those pretzel-like poses and chant AUM.”
Anne didn’t know whether he was serious or making a joke. “Have you done yoga?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. Maybe you should try it, but only after you’re fully recovered. For now, let’s focus on having dinner.”
Anne turned her attention back to the street. “There are so many possibilities. Do you know what I’d really love? A good shepherd’s pie and a pot of hot tea. That would be lovely.”
Jon was amused. “Shepherd’s pie?” Then speaking in an exaggerated English accent he said, “I say, are you British, my dear Anne, or are you British? And are you sure you wouldn’t prefer fish and chips?”
Anne cocked an eye at him. “Are you mocking me?”
“Mocking? No, not at all. Having fun, yes.”
“Well, actually fish and chips sounds quite lovely as well.”
Jon grinned, enjoying himself immensely. “And Constance wanted me to take you to The White Dove, one of the best and trendiest fine dining establishments in New York. But I told her that since I didn’t know your preference, I wanted to do something whimsical. You should have seen her face. ‘Whimsical, Jon?’ she asked, with great surprise. ‘I didn’t know you had a whimsical bone in your body.’”
Anne laughed, and Jon continued. “Then, I said, ‘Oh yes, Constance. In college, I once dressed up as Count Dracula for Halloween and crashed a sorority party, bursting into their house with a flap of my cape and flashing red eyes. I’d bought a pair of red contacts for dramatic effect. Anyway, I flapped around, baring my white vampire fangs, shouting, ‘There is much to be learned from beasts.’”
Anne broke into laughter while crowds flowed around them.
“Well, I do remember who he was. Did you really dress up as Count Dracula?” she asked.
“Yep, I did. And, I have to admit, I loved scaring those screaming girls.”
“And I’m sure they didn’t love it.”
“I will say, in all humility, and with the goal of impressing you, Miss Anne Billings, that a few of those young ladies later expressed an interest in dating me. Three gave me their phone numbers.”
“And did you date them?”
“Only those who would agree to expose their lovely necks.”
Anne laughed again, a high girlish laugh that pleased Jon.
“I can see I’m going to have to hide my neck from you, Doctor… I mean, Miles.”
Jon stopped in his tracks, pointing at her, pleased. “Brava! This is a milestone in our relationship.”
She came to a stop in front of him. “What do you mean?”
“You have officially called me Miles. And do you know what else, Anne Billings? You are beautiful when you laugh.”
“Now you’re embarrassing me.”
“Okay, Anne, I promise not to compliment you any further, except to say that you are also beautiful when you’re not laughing.”
She turned her shy eyes from him and pointed to a café. “Let’s eat over there. I bet they’ll have shepherd’s pie.”
“Don’t bet on it, Anne. To get shepherd’s pie, we’d have to find an Irish pub, and then hope for the best.”
She relaxed into a friendly smile. “I like the look of the place. Let’s try it.”
They crossed the street and entered the small, shadowy café, with red and white checkered tablecloths, red, centered globe candles, and soft rock music from the 1960s coming from an overhead speaker.
A hostess dressed in tight jeans, a red blouse and a leather vest greeted them with a distracted “Hello.” Her lipstick was bright red, her short red hair spiked, and her large yellow plastic hoop earrings piqued Anne’s curiosity.
The hostess led them to the only free two-top table in the back of the room, near the kitchen entry/exit door.
After they’d removed their coats and sat down, they were handed paper menus, and Anne struggled to pull her eyes from the eccentrically dressed girl.
Jon asked if they had shepherd’s pie.
“Never heard of it,” the hostess said, blandly. “I can give you a dessert menu, if you want.”
“No, it’s not a dessert. It’s a British specialty; an entrée.”
“Sorry… We don’t have that.”
When she was gone, Anne looked at Jon, and a smile came and went. “She’s quite colorful, isn’t she?”
“Yes… You see all kinds down here. Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“No… this is fine.”
“But?”
“I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but I feel as though I’m in a dream. Things… people… look so very strange to me. I feel a bit like Alice, as if I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole.”
“And that’s just what you need—to be out experiencing new things. It could trigger a memory.”
Anne glanced about. “I’m sure I’ve never been in Greenwich Village before.”
“Are you sure you want to stay?”
“Yes...”
“Okay, well, let’s examine the menu and see if there’s anything that appeals to you.”
Anne ordered meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and Brussel sprouts.
Jon decided on the salmon burger with avocado and sweet potato fries, so Anne could taste them.
While Jon sipped a glass of white wine and Anne a ginger ale, he leaned back in his chair and stared at her in the candlelight.
“All right, Anne, this is the part of the evening where I’m supposed to ask you to tell me a little about yourself, or a whole lot about yourself.”
She let out a little sigh. “I wish I could.”
“But we’re going to skip over all that, and instead, I’m going to ask how you like New York.”
“There are so many lights and people, so many sounds and tall buildings. It’s a little intimidating. Whenever I look out over the city from my twenty-second-floor room, it looks so grand and so bright and so infinite.”
“And have you recalled anything else from your session with Dr. Weiss yesterday?”
Anne avoided his eyes. “That was a swift change of subject. It sounds like you have planned this conversa
tion.”
Jon made a face of apology. “I’m sorry, Anne. You saw right through me. It’s just that I’m concerned and, truth be told, I’d like to help you any way I can.”
Anne stared down at the table cloth and picked at it with a fingernail. “Then be honest with me and be my friend.”
Jon held up his right hand and performed the three-finger boy scout salute. “Scout’s honor, I will be honest, and I will be your friend.”
She looked long and fully into his eyes. “Then I will tell you that I have recalled other scenes since the hypnosis with Dr. Weiss.”
Jon Miles leaned forward. “Anything significant?”
“I was cycling, that is, in my mind I saw myself cycling and, as I passed Hyde Park, I saw men digging trenches.”
“Hyde Park, England?”
“Yes. England. I knew it was England, and it was so clear and so present. And then I saw a leaflet on the street being blown by the wind. I pedaled over to it and picked it up. It said, WHAT TO DO IN CASE OF AN AIR RAID.”
Jon narrowed his eyes. “Was this a dream? I mean, were you in bed, asleep?”
“No… I was in my room, standing by the windows, gazing out at the tall buildings and flecks of falling snow. I remembered it clearly, seeing it on the inner screen of my mind, if that makes any sense.”
“Yesterday?”
“No. This morning.”
Jon dropped his head in a slight nod. “All right. Anything else?”
Anne spoke haltingly. “I became aware of a date. September 3, 1939. It was a Sunday, but I don’t know how or why I recalled that…”
“And?”
“I heard a voice coming from a radio and I knew who that voice was. It was Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain. He said… Well, he said we were at war with Germany.”
Jon’s solemn eyes bored into her. “Germany? And you’re sure it was September 3, 1939?”
“Yes… I’m sure. The radio said that a blackout of London would begin in the evening, and we should carry our gas masks everywhere. The announcer said that the underground—that is, the subway, as you call it here—would be used for transport and could not be used for bomb shelters. Petrol would be rationed, as would some food and other things…”
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