by Melanie Rose
After lunch we all piled into the minivan and headed into town. The children fidgeted and fought over where they would sit, until I told them we wouldn’t go if they didn’t settle down.
“Don’t forget, we’re going in especially to buy a new playroom table, proper paints, and a board to put your paintings on. If you’d rather stay home and bicker while Auntie Karen and I drink coffee that’s fine by me.”
The sudden silence in the van was almost tangible, and Karen chuckled under her breath.
“Now,” she said, settling her not insubstantial bulk into the soft seat as I started the engine and nosed out into the road, “you’ve told me all the medical stuff but not what actually happened. Do you remember anything about it at all?”
I was shaking my head when Sophie piped up from the back seat.
“Mummy had to take us to the park, because Trudy left. She said we were horrible uncontr… ble—something, anyway—brats.”
“Your mother said that?” Karen exclaimed in horror.
Sophie giggled. “No, Trudy did. The nasty nanny.”
“I didn’t like her because she smacked Teddy all the time,” Nicole put in.
“She smacked me, too,” said Toby, not to be outdone.
“So what happened in the park?” Karen asked hastily, before the debate could turn into a full-blown argument.
“It started to rain,” Sophie said. “The sky went really black. Mummy said we must go back to the car, but Toby had thrown Teddy’s ball in the bushes when Mummy wasn’t looking and Teddy wouldn’t go.”
“Mummy shouted and went after him,” Nicole added. “And then the lightning came down, right on top of her, and her hair went up in the air and went all blue and crackly.”
Even though while I had been in the hospital I had heard something of the children’s account of how Lauren had looked when the lightning had hit her, my hand went automatically to the top of my head, where Lauren’s blond hair was still brittle and singed, and I gave a heartfelt shudder.
“Good grief,” Karen exclaimed. “What did you do then?”
“There was a man in the park, he’d been talking to Mummy, and he phoned up the hospital on Mummy’s mobile phone.” Sophie took up the story again. “The man waited until the ambulance came and took her away.”
“Yeah, he was crying, yuck,” Toby said from the back.
I stiffened in the driving seat, and felt Karen’s eyes upon me. Fortunately, we were on the edge of town and I had to concentrate on the traffic and where we were going to park.
The conversation was put on hold until much later, when we were home again and Karen and I were trying to work out the assembly instructions for the vinyl-topped table in the utility room while the children watched the late-afternoon children’s programs on TV.
“What does Grant make of all this?” Karen asked, holding a table leg in place while I applied glue.
“He seems to be very insecure about the whole thing. He actually asked me if I had really lost my memory.”
“And have you?”
I stared at Karen, nervous that she should ask such a thing. “I’d hardly make something like that up.”
She eyed me skeptically and I felt myself flush under her steady gaze. “You always did like to be the center of attention.”
I felt myself bridle at the dig, but then I relaxed. Of course she couldn’t have suspected I wasn’t really Lauren. I decided to take the opportunity to find out a little more about the woman whose body I was occupying. “Remind me about our childhood, would you? The doctor at the hospital—Dr. Shakir—told me I have a congenital weakness to my skull, which is why the highvoltage charge from the lightning caused such damage to my temporal lobes. Apparently that is where memory is stored. Was there any sign of it when I was a child?”
“I’ve always thought you were pretty thick skulled,” Karen said with a short laugh. She glanced at my crestfallen face and softened her tone slightly. “There was no sign of anything untoward about you as a child that I can recall. I’m sorry if I sound harsh, Lauren, but our mother used to tell us to try and put ourselves in other people’s shoes, to see the world from their perspectives, but you were never very good at that. Even as a child you seemed to think the world revolved around you and that everyone in it was there for your benefit.”
“I get the feeling we weren’t exactly the best of friends.”
“You could say that. You were such a prissy, stuck-up little cow, Lauren. As a teenager you always wanted new things, even though Mum and Dad couldn’t afford it. They worked all hours to keep us clothed and fed and you accepted everything as if it was your due. You chose your so-called friends for what they could do for you; as if by surrounding yourself with people who you perceived to be higher up the social ladder, they would give you a leg up too.” She tested the table leg and moved on to fit the next one in place. “I could never understand why it mattered so much to you how you looked and who you associated yourself with. Mum used to tell us that all souls are of equal importance, each with our own tasks to fulfill in this life. She believed in karma and reincarnation and would give everything she had, not only to us, but to friends, acquaintances, and even complete strangers. You never understood that, did you?”
I fixed my attention on the table leg as she forged on. “I’m not surprised you married Grant when he came along with his fat wallet and the expensive sports car he drove then, filling your head about his private practice and extravagant lifestyle.”
Pausing with the oozing tube of glue in midair, I raised my eyes to hers. “Well, I’m surprised you came here to help when Grant asked you to. It doesn’t sound as if you liked me very much at all.”
She smiled suddenly with such warmth that it was like looking at another person. “For all your faults, you are still my sister,” she said. “And I was worried sick when Grant told me you’d nearly died. It made me realize that maybe we don’t have time to bicker any longer and that perhaps it’s time to put aside our differences.”
“I’m glad you came,” I said, returning the smile with some relief. “I want us to get along very much.”
“Well, maybe you are starting to try to put yourself in other people’s shoes at last,” Karen went on, oblivious to the irony of her words. “You certainly seem to understand for the first time why you haven’t been able to hang on to a nanny for more than a month or two at a time. You used to treat the poor girls as commodities, like a washing machine or a vacuum cleaner; here to perform a service, with no concern for their feelings or needs at all.”
“It doesn’t sound as if I was very happy.”
“No, I don’t think you were.” She peered into my eyes and I looked away, afraid she’d see someone else there. “You were restless and always looking for something more. The strange thing is, you seem happier now than you’ve ever been.”
“It is hard, though,” I admitted as I squeezed glue onto the last leg. “Everything about this life is a blank. It’s really awkward with Grant. He wants me to love him, but I don’t know him, so how can I? He’s like a stranger to me. And I can’t understand why he doesn’t believe I’ve lost my memory when he was there with me when Dr. Shakir explained what had happened.”
“I’m beginning to think you really don’t remember anything.” She stared at me intently again while I risked a guarded look back. “Good grief, you truly don’t, do you?”
“Not a thing.”
“Bloody hell; how awful.” She appeared momentarily sympathetic, but then she roused herself and grinned, obviously realizing the implications of me having no memories of our childhood together. “Wow! It lets me off the hook for all the times I beat you up when we were kids, doesn’t it? It’s fantastic really; until your memories return it’s as if we’ve been given a clean slate. We can leave all our childhood baggage behind us and get to know each other afresh.”
“I’d like that.”
“Let’s just hope that when your memory does come back you don’t remember how
embarrassed you are to have a sister like me.”
“Dr. Shakir doesn’t think I ever will get it back properly,” I told her. “And I’m sure I’d never be embarrassed by you. I’m not the same person I was before. Give me a chance to prove I’ve changed.”
Karen pulled at the table leg, testing its strength. Apparently satisfied, she helped me stand the table upright.
“From what I’ve seen so far, you are a different person. I can see why Grant is skeptical. It’s quite spooky really.”
“Tell me about the rest of our family,” I said, steering the conversation away from such dangerous territory. “Where do our parents live?”
Karen’s face paled. “Shit, Lauren. You don’t even know that, do you?”
“What?”
“They died two years ago, in a terrible car crash. It’s just you and me now, kid.”
I digested this piece of information, realizing I should feel sorry or something. From what Karen had told me I felt I would have liked Lauren’s parents very much. I knew Karen must be hurting and I put my arms around her.
“I’m so sorry, Karen. But we’ve got each other, and the children.”
She hugged me back and we stood there for a moment, gaining comfort from each other’s arms. I quite liked the idea of having a sister. I pictured us shopping together, sharing gardening tips and secrets, choosing gifts for each other at Christmas and birthdays and phoning each other with detailed accounts of our daily lives when we couldn’t be together in person. I thought what fun it would be for the two of us to walk Frankie, until I realized the impossibility of such a thing, but then I consoled myself with the thought that we could take the children for shared days out and laugh and joke together as one big happy family.
I’d never had anyone to run my thoughts by before. If I mentioned any silly little worries to my parents they would worry for me, and I had never wanted to bother them with my doubts and fears. Even Clara, though a good friend, had a habit of offering unwanted opinions. But a sister might be able to listen without judging or feeling the need to interfere, and I could listen and commiserate when she had worries of her own. I thought how much I would enjoy getting to know Karen better.
“You’re not married, are you?” I asked, glancing at her empty ring finger.
She broke away from me and looked at me long and hard before seeming to come to a decision.
“I’m living with someone,” she said guardedly.
“Have I met him?”
“It’s not a him. It’s a her.”
“Oh.” I paused, then said quickly, “Then have I met her?”
“Bloody hell. What’s happened to my sister? I feel like she’s been beamed up by aliens, leaving you occupying her body or something!”
I laughed uneasily. “I think you must watch too much Star Trek.”
“I keep an open mind where these things are concerned,” she replied with a laugh. “It would be nice if the ‘new you’ does too. And no, you have not met her. Her existence is a bone of contention between us. You do not—perhaps I should say did not—approve.”
“How long have you two been an item?”
“About eighteen months.”
“Have the children met her?”
“You must be joking! You wouldn’t allow her near the house.”
“When I’m a bit more settled here myself, I’d very much like to meet her. First, though, I want to reacquaint myself with you.”
We went out to the kitchen to put the kettle on. “What are you doing about their dinner?” she asked as I poured boiling water into the pot.
“I can’t get used to this constant feeding the kids and clearing up, then cleaning them and feeding them again,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t know how Laur—I ever did it.”
She gave me that look again and I knew my slip of the tongue hadn’t gone unnoticed. “There are probably some sausages in the freezer,” she said. “You usually keep it well stocked. Shall I look?”
We ended up defrosting sausages in the microwave, then we transferred them to the conventional oven, and while they cooked we chopped and peeled potatoes and vegetables and laid the table in the dining room for tea.
“Will Grant eat sausages?” I asked anxiously. “I haven’t cooked for the poor man since I came out of the hospital.”
“Poor man my arse,” Karen said, tipping the potato peels in the bin. “He should have been cooking for you. Didn’t you tell me the doctor recommended plenty of rest?”
“Well, yes.”
“So, he eats sausages or he orders takeout. His choice.”
I giggled. “I can’t believe we didn’t get along before. You’re so—down-to-earth.”
“Have to be, in my job. Can’t let the buggers get you down.”
“What exactly is your job?”
“Probation officer. You should see some of the cases I have to deal with on a daily basis. You simply wouldn’t believe some of the people who are out there walking the streets. I’ve been threatened with glass bottles, called all the names under the sun, but I love the job, Lauren. I feel I’m making a difference.”
After the meal, I sent the children up to get ready for bed. I read stories to both the boys, with Toby sitting snuggled on my lap in his pajamas and Teddy leaning tentatively against me hugging his ball. The ball, I reminded myself with a shudder, that had caused his mother to linger in the storm that had killed her.
Karen had read something to the girls, and I’d heard laughter coming from down the landing before she went downstairs. The phone rang in the distance and Karen answered it. She appeared at the boys’ door a moment later.
“It’s for you. What shall I tell them?”
“Would you ask who it is and take a number?” I whispered over the boys’ heads. “I’ll call them back in ten minutes.”
The name and number were, of course, unknown to me. Karen had written “Cassandra” on the paper, with a number. I wondered what I was going to say if I rang her back. I wasn’t sure if Grant had told anyone outside the family about my memory loss.
Eventually I plucked up the courage to ring Cassandra back, and a cultured voice answered on the second ring.
“Lauren, darling, how are you? We heard you’d been struck by lightning, is it true?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Do you still want to do lunch tomorrow? Are you up to it?”
“It’s the half-term break. I can’t leave the children to come out to lunch.”
There was a pause at the other end of the line, then Cassandra laughed. “Leaving the children has never bothered you before, Lauren. Where’s the nanny?”
“She left.”
“Oh, how ghastly for you. What about your sister, the one who answered the phone? Can’t you park them with her?”
“I don’t want to park them, Cassandra. It’s their vacation and I want to spend some time with them.”
“Good grief, darling. I heard you’d been hit on the head by lightning but I didn’t think you were going to be gaga.” Her voice dropped an octave and she said quietly, “I was looking forward to hearing the news.”
“What news was that?”
“You know, darling, about him.”
I felt myself bridling. I didn’t know this woman from Adam, but already I didn’t like her one bit.
“There’s no news, Cassandra. I have to be going. Bye.”
As I replaced the receiver I realized my hands were trembling. I’d already had my suspicions aroused about the possibility of Lauren having had extramarital relations when the children mentioned the man who had been with their mother in the park. I remembered Grant asking me about the possibility, too. Now it seemed everyone knew about Lauren’s indiscretions, and I was angry with her for risking the children’s happiness in this way.
“Trouble?” Karen asked softly at my shoulder.
I jumped, startled.
“I think I might have been having an affair,” I told her bluntly. “It might explain wh
y Grant is so insecure and wanting me to prove I love him.”
Karen steered me toward the living room, flicked on the lights, and drew the curtains.
“Come and tell me all about it.”
“There’s really nothing to tell,” I said, sitting beside her on the sofa. “This friend of… mine seemed to think I had some news for her about a man, that’s all. Coupled with what the children said about the man in the park, I’m worried I might have done something stupid.”
“The fact that the idea doesn’t appeal to you is good news,” she said, patting my hand. “Whatever happened before, you don’t have to go on with it now, you know.”
“The thing is, I don’t know if I can love Grant,” I confessed. “I’m not sure I can be a proper wife to him, and if the marriage fails, what will happen to the children? They are so special, so fragile. I wouldn’t do anything that might hurt them.”
Karen stared at me, nodding that she understood.
“I always thought you married Grant for all the wrong reasons. You were very immature and I was never convinced he was the right man for you. I don’t know if it was because Mum and Dad did everything for you, but at twenty-five you were really still a spoiled little girl. He thought you were pretty and delicate, someone he could dominate and control, but he’s a weak man and you didn’t see that until you’d grown up yourself. I have to confess I’m not entirely surprised you might have strayed.”
“What am I going to do?”
“About Grant? I don’t know. About this other man, absolutely nothing. Unless he makes contact, it will be all over anyway. I would just ignore the whole thing and hope it goes away.”
I yawned widely and apologized. “I think I’ll turn in if you don’t mind. I assume you know your way to the guest room?”
“I’ve put my things in the spare bedroom, Lauren. From the look of the guest room I’d say Grant has been sleeping in there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot.”
“Don’t worry about it. And don’t get up early tomorrow if you want to sleep in. I’ll deal with the children… and Grant.”
I kissed Karen good night and hurried upstairs to get ready for bed. I wanted a long, hot soak in the bath, but it was already half past nine and I pictured Frankie begging to be let out. She was normally very good, but even she had to do her duty after being kept indoors all night.