by Melanie Rose
I fell asleep almost immediately, which was surprising as I’d slept in so late this morning as well. My last thought as Lauren was that both she and Jessica were getting around twelve hours’ sleep at a time, and then I was stirring and stretching in Jessica’s bed, ready to have Thursday all over again.
Frankie was standing patiently at the bedroom door and I padded over to let her out.
“You poor girl,” I told her as she rushed out into the courtyard and up the stone steps to the lawn, where she relieved herself on the grass while looking over at me reproachfully. “I’ll make it up to you with a nice long walk.”
After a late breakfast I fetched Frankie’s leash and we set off at a brisk pace into town. I knew exactly where I was going, and we soon arrived at the smart new building that housed the town’s library. After tying Frankie’s leash to the leg of a bench outside, I went through the automatic doors and up the escalator, then headed straight for the nonfiction section. There were several books about extreme weather conditions and I soon found a section about lightning. I flicked through the pages looking at amazing pictures of forked lightning, and I nearly allowed myself to become sidetracked reading personal accounts from various victims of lightning strikes. They were truly fascinating, but nothing quite echoed my own experience. I verified what Dr. Shakir had told me about the heat involved in a strike and the related medical issues, but nowhere was there any mention of a time slip or the splitting of a soul into two bodies.
I noted with interest that not only were lightning bolts well-known for their destructive power, it was also thought that some of the essential building blocks of living matter were originally formed by the electrical energy of lightning. If lightning could create life, I thought, then why couldn’t it divide life, like the splitting of two cells?
The next thing I looked for was a section on dreams and their meanings. When I’d first woken as Lauren in the hospital I’d been convinced that I was experiencing a complicated and very realistic dream, and I couldn’t rule out that possibility now. Just because Lauren’s life seemed so real, didn’t mean it definitely was real. I wondered whether the lightning strike had sparked some part of my brain into this vivid dreaming pattern. It was certainly no more bizarre than thinking my soul was being shared by two very different people.
I found a book and took it to the reading table where I leafed through it avidly. I read with interest that dreaming sleep is thought to be primarily a period of mental restoration during which the mind may sort and store information acquired during the day. But if that was the case, where had I conjured up Lauren’s entire family from?
Of course, there was always the possibility I’d seen the characters from that other life in a film, a TV show, or created them from people I knew, but I had no memory of having seen them anywhere except in this particular dream.
Worse still, I thought to myself grimly as I turned the pages, what if it turned out that I really was Lauren, and the damage caused to Lauren’s brain had invented Jessica’s existence to fill the void in her own memory? In which case, I thought with a shudder, my worst fears had been justified; I was dreaming now, and Frankie and Dan were all part of Lauren’s subconscious imagination.
I shoved the books back into their places on the shelves and tried to calm my nerves. The last thing I needed was to have a panic attack in the public library. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths, and when I opened them again, my gaze came to rest on a book about the works of Albert Einstein. I knew nothing about the famous man’s work apart from my schoolgirl knowledge that he had written about the theory of relativity.
I ran my fingers down the book’s spine. Could the possibility of being in two places at the same time be explained in here? I wondered anxiously. Scanning through the pages I paused at one particularly interesting item. It was a summarized version of the theory of relativity. I read it through once and then took it to a nearby table so that I could read it again more slowly.
According to the book, by using extremely sophisticated mathematics, Einstein had apparently shown that the universe was not like clockwork, as Newton had previously theorized. He’d discovered that neither time nor space was an absolute quantity, the dimensions of things were not fixed, and that time and space were intimately connected, even down to the behaviour of the tiny particles inside atoms as well as on the astronomical scale. It was possible—if I believed what I was reading—that the appearance of an event or object would change entirely if the circumstances in which it was observed were altered radically enough. I ran a hand across my face and tried to think. Could a lightning strike, which was, according to the previous book, a force powerful enough to form the building blocks of new life, create the catalyst by which time and space could have been radically altered? I liked the idea a lot better than the possibility my whole life might be someone else’s dream.
Standing up, I put the book away and made my way down and outside into the crisp morning air. Frankie rubbed her warm body against my legs as I untied her leash, and I inhaled deeply, feeling the cold air filling my lungs. I gazed about me at the reds and golds of the changing leaves on the ornamental trees in front of the building and up at the clear blue of the sky. A mother with three small children and a stroller passed by, and I listened to their chatter as they went into the library behind me, with a joy building in my heart that I hadn’t felt for a long time. It was the wonder of simply being alive.
I took a circuitous route home, much to Frankie’s delight, and we arrived at the flat as Dan was climbing out of his car. He grinned when he saw us and I realized he was probably echoing the joy he saw in my face as I looked at him. He had Bessie with him, and the two dogs greeted each other with lots of sniffing and tail wagging. It crossed my mind that I would have liked to have greeted Dan the same way if convention had allowed. The thought made me smile even more widely, and Dan swooped at me and encompassed me in his arms until I gasped out that he was squashing me.
We walked to a nearby pub for lunch and sat outside in the cold sunshine with the dogs lying companionably by our feet. We ate steaming steak and kidney pies washed down with beer in his case, and water followed by coffee in mine.
We walked back to my flat holding hands, the dogs trotting along on either side of us, then we left the two of them with the run of the kitchen and living room while I led Dan into the bedroom and closed the door.
As soon as the door closed behind us Dan pulled me into his arms. Our lips met gently at first, as if finding their way, and then more passionately as our bodies warmed to each other’s touch.
We staggered toward the bed, holding the delicious kiss, our bodies pressed closely together, when something about him caused me to hesitate. The intoxicating smell of his breath and body altered somehow and my head began to swim even as I tried to pull away. The memory of Grant touching me the night Teddy had been ill filled my head, and although I could hear Dan calling me in the distance, I discovered that I couldn’t move.
I awoke to find Grant pulling up my nightdress. His hand was rough on my thighs and he was slurring drunkenly in my face. Shocked and disoriented, I twisted my head away from his whiskey-scented breath and shouted at him to stop. He took no notice and continued to press himself against me, one hand caressing my face while he fumbled at my nightdress with the other.
Flapping and wriggling beneath him like a flailing fish, I managed to dislodge him for a moment, throwing him off balance, but he was too drunk and too strong for me to hold off for long. I bit down hard on his fingers and he let go of my face with a yelp of pain.
“Get off me! Get off!” I cried, pummeling his face and shoulders. “You’re hurting me, Grant, stop it!”
“I love you,” he slurred, leaning over me then, sucking at his injured finger. In the thin light seeping from the landing through the crack in the partly open door, I watched as his expression turned from puzzlement to annoyance. He regained his hold on me, straddling me. “Stay still. You’re my wife, you�
�re supposed to love me, stay still!”
“I’m not!” I cried in terror as he lowered himself onto me. “I’m not Lauren. Leave me alone!”
The bedroom light snapped on, and Grant went still.
“You heard, get off her,” Karen said from the doorway.
“Go away!” Grant snapped, turning his attention back to me. In a few short strides Karen had crossed the room and yanked at his shirt.
“Get off her, or I’ll call the police.”
Grant stared at her, the words finally penetrating his alcohol-befuddled brain. He rolled off me and got unsteadily to his feet.
“There’s no need for that, Karen. Lauren is my wife, you know.”
“She doesn’t want you in here,” Karen said firmly. “You’re drunk, go back to your room.”
I thought he was going to protest, but he simply nodded in a rather abashed way, threw me an accusing stare, and lurched from the room. Karen sat on the edge of the bed and put her arm around me.
“It’s all right, he’s gone now,” she crooned as I wept. “Lock your door so he doesn’t bother you again tonight.”
After she had gone back to her room it took me a while to force myself to move, but the fear of Grant returning eventually unparalyzed my limbs enough for me to stagger across and lock the bedroom door. After climbing unsteadily back into Lauren’s bed, I closed my eyes but sleep wouldn’t come. Tossing and turning, I dwelled upon what had just happened and the more I worried about that and what Dan must be going through at the flat, the more awake I became. I glanced at the bedside clock and felt another rush of panic surge through me. It had been about three in the afternoon when I’d been snatched from Jessica and thrust into Lauren, but it was now past four in the morning.
At home I would have been unconscious for more than an hour, and Dan must be worried sick. I hoped he hadn’t called an ambulance. The last thing I wanted was to end up in the hospital again. The more often it happened, the more the doctors would run tests and dig into my medical history, until in the end they’d probably put my collapses down to mental stress or emotional problems.
I wondered fearfully what would happen if one of these fainting attacks happened while I was in court or at an important corporate event. If it happened more than once it might not only put my job in jeopardy but would reflect badly on Chisleworth & Partners in general. And it wasn’t as if I was only unconscious for a few moments; I could be “gone” for as long as the Richardson family needed me. How would I explain that to a roomful of legal personnel? I thought, with a shiver of foreboding.
I was back to the straitjacket scenario again, it was clear. And I buried my head miserably under the pillow.
chapter nine
I must have dropped off eventually, because I woke to hear whispering coming from somewhere nearby. For a moment I wasn’t sure where I was. Had I woken as Lauren or was I Jessica?
I opened my eyes and saw Clara sitting in a corner of my bedroom with Dan crouching next to her. Their heads were bent together and they were murmuring conspiratorially.
“We’ll give her another few minutes,” Clara was saying. “I know it looks bad, but when she did it the day before yesterday in the office she was as right as rain when she woke up in the hospital. I really don’t think she’d want to go to the emergency room again.”
Dan glanced over at me. His face was gray and his eyes heavy with concern. When he saw me looking at him, his features lit up as if a ray of sunshine had come out from behind a cloud.
“Jessica!” he exclaimed, hurrying to the bed and taking me in his arms. “What happened?”
“I’m so sorry!” I cried, burying my face in his shoulder. “I should have warned you this might happen again. It’s something to do with the lightning strike. I’m so, so sorry.”
He held me close as I burst into tears of relief. After a moment I looked up, feeling all wet-faced and runny-nosed.
“I don’t suppose you’ll want anything to do with me now,” I murmured.
“Don’t be silly,” he said. “You won’t get rid of me that easily. I’m hooked, can’t you tell?”
I glanced over to where Clara was watching us rather uncomfortably.
“How did you get to be here?” I asked her.
“This man of yours went through your address book,” she said, wagging her finger at him in mock disapproval. “He remembered you telling him about your friend Clara, and, fortunately for him, you’d filed me under my Christian name.”
“Weren’t you at work?”
“I certainly was. But I had my mobile switched on, and I came right over. It was nearly home time anyway.” She glanced meaningfully from Dan, then back to me again. “I can see you are making good use of your sick leave, girl.”
“Thank you so much for not taking me to the hospital,” I said, ignoring her comment and wiping my nose on a tissue. “I’m not usually gone for long.”
“You make it sound like you just popped out to the shops,” Dan exclaimed. “How often does this happen?”
“It’s only happened twice out of the blue like this,” I said truthfully.
“This is ridiculous,” Dan said, getting to his feet and starting to pace up and down beside the bed. “Is it like some form of epilepsy?”
“It didn’t look like any sort of fit to me,” Clara said. “She just goes to sleep, and nothing and no one can wake her until she’s ready to come back.”
“And it never happened before Saturday?”
I shook my head. Saturday. Only five days had passed since then, but it felt like a lifetime ago.
“Do you think I should stay with you tonight?”
I hesitated, not knowing what to say. Much as I was tempted to have Dan stay with me, I knew he would simply be lying next to my comatose body all night long.
“No, I’ll be all right,” I said at last, shaking my head.
“Hey, you can always come over to my place if she doesn’t want you,” Clara joked flirtatiously to Dan.
Dan smiled, then glanced at the clock. Clara seemed to get the message and picked up her coat, which was hanging over the back of the chair.
“I’ll leave you two lovebirds together then, if you’re sure you’re all right, Jess?”
“I’m fine now. Thanks so much for coming over, Clara. You did the right thing. I really didn’t want to end up in the hospital again.”
“Just be careful!” she admonished, waving a long, red-varnished fingernail in my face. “You’re supposed to be resting, remember.”
As the front door closed behind her, we calmed the dogs and went through to the kitchen, where I turned the kettle on and stood facing Dan anxiously. As far as he was concerned we’d been about to make love when I’d collapsed. I, however, had just experienced what felt like a near rape and had no desire to continue where we’d left off.
He came to stand close to me and, taking my hand in his, studied my face with a concerned expression. It was almost as though he sensed the change in me and was being considerate and cautious.
“You’re not all right, are you?” he said slowly. “Something’s different about you.”
I pulled my hand away and turned to pour water over the tea bags.
“I need a while to recover after… what happened.”
“You should see a doctor, Jessica. It can’t be normal to fall unconscious like that without reason.”
The boiling water missed the mugs and slopped over the counter, splashing my hand. I felt tears prickling not far away again. The memory of Grant’s probing fingers made me feel sick. I knew it had been Lauren’s body he had been molesting, not mine, but I’d been there, experiencing everything he’d been doing, and I felt violated.
Dan reached out to touch me and I stiffened. He stepped back at once and stood looking at me, confusion in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Dan,” I whispered. “It’s not you.”
“Maybe I should go.”
I nodded, hardly able to raise my eyes to his face. He
turned and called Bessie to him, then he gathered up his jacket and car keys and headed for the front door. He stopped and looked back, his hand resting on the door handle.
“Will you be all right?”
I nodded. “I’ll be fine now, honestly.”
“Can I see you tomorrow?”
“I’d like that.”
He gave me a half smile, and then he was gone.
After clearing up the slopped tea, I took Frankie for another stroll around the block, relishing the chilly freshness of the evening air. As soon as we returned I made us both an early supper and went back to bed with my book. After about fifteen minutes I threw the book down and ran myself a hot bath. It was impossible to concentrate on anything when all I could see in my mind’s eye was Grant’s red-rimmed eyes, the smell of drink on his breath, and the pressure of his hands on my thighs.
I sat in the hot soapy water, glad to be away not only from Grant but also from the children. Here I had no one to worry about but myself, and at the moment I needed to concentrate on me. I scrubbed at my body until my skin was red and stinging. But I knew it wasn’t my body that needed healing, it was my soul.
I wondered if there was somewhere people went to have their soul cleansed, then remembered that was what church was supposed to be for. Church. I lay back in the bubbles, remembering the church my parents had taken me to as a child. It had smelled stale and musty inside, the vicar had been busy and distant, and it had been so cold I’d been able to see my breath when I exhaled. I’d had to sit quietly until my fingers and toes were frozen. As soon as I’d been old enough to make my own decisions I’d refused to go back.
Recalling those Sunday mornings spent in communal prayer and exultation, I wondered if perhaps I should give worship another try. Maybe, I thought desperately, if I prayed hard enough, my soul might be made whole again. The trouble was, I realized ruefully, while I believed in God, I imagined Him as some huge, powerful force, an energy source so great that everything came from it and was a constant part of it. I wasn’t sure my views would be welcome in a regular church.