by Dawn Tamayo
“You like boats?” Romero asked as he watched her standing looking at them.
“I guess so.” She said nonchalantly tapping the toe of her new pretty pink sandal; she had seen them in a little shop and bought them, pleased they were within her meagre budget. Helen was conscious she needed to make her one hundred euros stretch as far as possible for as long as possible. After that ran out she supposed she would have to find a job or apply for some kind of financial assistance, but she wasn’t sure how that was supposed to work. Would she be staying here in Spain, or would she have to go back to England? But then again where in England would she go? A cold sensation consumed her when she thought about all the uncertainty.
Romero noticed instantly when Helen’s mood changed. So far he had been hoping for some sort of clue on her: what she liked, her identity and past, but nothing had given itself away yet. What he did know though was that she was telling the truth when she said she was scared - when they were in the little town’s shops she had stayed close by his side and even held onto his arm at one point when a boisterous group of people had come too close. He could see she wasn’t ready to be out on her own just yet, this was going to take a bit of time.
“Are you hungry?” Romero cut into her thoughts.
She nodded and turned away from the harbour. “Can we go home now please? I have enough to keep me going for a while.” She had been enjoying herself out and about with Romero as she bought a few necessities, she had felt safe with him by her side, and true to his word he hadn’t left her alone for one minute. But with the thought of her uncertainties her bubble had just burst and now she wanted to go home to try and force some sort of memory out. How she was going to do this she wasn’t sure, but there had to be some way!
“No not just yet, let’s get something to eat first.” He said not ready to let her run home to hide, that was far too easy and wouldn’t do her any good in the long run. Besides, he was enjoying showing her his little town. “There’s a nice place I know near here, they bake the bread fresh and their selection of olives and cheeses are to die for.”
Helen looked at him with one eyebrow raised.
“Sorry, bad choice of words.” Romero apologised, but then they both laughed. He held out his arm and Helen linked her hand inside it as they headed up the road in that direction.
After a pleasant and very late lunch Romero and Helen bought fresh fruit and bread before they headed back to his villa. For the first time since she could remember she felt relaxed and happy - the sun was shining down on her and there was a gentle breeze which blew her hair back from her face. Helen breathed in her freedom and felt the wonderful feeling of being alive wash through her veins. Romero felt her hand slip away from his arm and realised she had stopped walking. He turned around to check she was alright and he was instantly struck by her beauty - Helen was standing like a siren with her hair flowing in the breeze, eyes closed with a hint of a smile on her full lips, and the sea stretching out behind her at the bottom of the road. He looked away quickly when she opened her eyes.
“Oh, sorry I got carried away for a moment. I just had to take in this lovely breeze. Thank you for taking me out, it has been wonderful, not like I expected at all. I guess that’s what you get when you have your own personal bodyguard.” Helen joked as she walked to catch up with him again.
Romero said nothing and kept on walking.
That night Romero cooked steaks outside on the barbeque while Helen tossed together some potatoes, tomatoes and onions. He watched through the kitchen door as she proficiently reached for herbs and oils to season her potato salad.
“You’ve done that before.” He called through.
“I guess so, I didn’t really think about it.”
“How did you know what to put in it, or am I going to hate it.” He asked, half serious half joking.
“I don’t know, it just came naturally, sort of automatic pilot.” She took a fork and put a piece of the potato salad on it, trying it. It did taste good, she must have done it before. Helen put another piece on the fork and walked out to Romero holding her hand underneath to catch anything she dropped, “Here try it.”
Romero leaned across and let her put the fork of food into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows with surprise and smiled in compliment. “Hmmm, you can be on cooking duty if all your food tastes like that.” He joked.
“I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee it, this could just be a fluke!” She laughed.
He looked at her puzzled. His English was good, it needed to be working on the Spanish costa, but he didn’t know what this ‘fluke’ word meant.
“Never mind!” She laughed as she walked back into the kitchen to set the table for dinner.
“How do you like your steak?” Romero called through to the kitchen.
“Who knows, surprise me!” She called back, and then on second thoughts she said, “Actually, no blood please. After the other night I don’t think I want to see any more blood, I washed enough off it off myself thank you.” She wasn’t joking, after washing her hair and showering at the hospital she didn’t think she ever wanted to see any more blood. There was something horrible and spine-chilling about washing her own blood out of her hair and watching it go down the plug-hole.
After dinner Helen and Romero sat in his living room. The windows were open, allowing the warm evening breeze to gently blow through the room and Helen could smell the aroma of wood fires burning somewhere in the distance. Romero was watching the evening news as she walked around the living room looking at various photographs he had on the walls. She liked the feel in the room; the dark wooden furniture and over-stuffed brown leather sofas felt warm against the cool soft-lime coloured walls. Dark red throws and cushions were scattered around the room.
“Are these your parents?” She asked as she moved to a shelf and picked up a photo frame of an old couple.
“Yes, they live not far from here, just a bit further inland.”
“And this, who is she?” Helen asked pointing to a photograph of a beautiful woman with long flowing black hair smiling at her.
He briefly took his eyes away from the television screen, “My sister Sylvia-Fernanda.”
Helen looked at the other photographs hoping to find a clue as to which one was his girlfriend now she knew Cathy wasn’t. There seemed to be a mixture of men and women in photos with him, and a few of women on their own, but nothing to give her a clue. Finally she gave up and asked inquisitively, “So which one is your girlfriend?”
Romero turned around and looked at her for a moment before answering, “None.” Then he turned back to the news again.
Helen looked at the back of Romero’s head deciding he obviously wasn’t in the mood for conversation right now. It was probably just as well as she could feel the mild throbbing in her head returning and she realised how very tired she was. She looked at the clock, it was barely ten o’clock.
“I’m tired, if you don’t mind I will go to bed now.” Helen said as she walked towards the door.
Romero quickly muted the television and gave her his full attention now. He hadn’t meant to be rude, he just didn’t know what he was supposed to do - he didn’t know how to handle this, after all this was only temporary and Helen would be gone as soon as she remembered who she was. There was only one problem - he had enjoyed the time they’d spent together today. He had enjoyed it far too much, and he knew he couldn’t feel that way, he wasn’t allowed to. Helen was here solely so he could help her get better and find her feet, and nothing more!
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked concerned, he could see she looked a little paler than earlier.
“Yes I’m fine. Just tired, and my lovely bed looks a lot more comfortable than the one I slept in last night.” She smiled weakly, “Thank you for everything Romero, and I hope I am not causing you any problems by being here.” Helen meant every word as she walked away and went to her bedroom - she had a feeling Romero didn’t really want her there, but then if he didn’t she cou
ldn’t understand why he had brought her there in the first place. One minute they were laughing together over dinner, but then later he had made it quite obvious he didn’t want to talk to her. She thought he blew hot and cold. If he had taken her there out of pity, and she couldn’t see what other reason there could be, then she didn’t want that – she despised pity. But right now the thought of the lovely clean sheets in her cosy bedroom was far too appealing and Helen was just happy to be heading there.
Romero had just dropped off to sleep when his body jumped awake by a sound he didn’t recognise. He went into autopilot and retrieved his gun from the drawer next to his bed and stood silently still in the middle of his bedroom listening. There it was, the sound came again. Romero took a deep breath, slowing his breathing a little as he grabbed a pair of pyjama bottoms from a drawer and tucked his gun into the back of his pants. Again he heard the noise and followed it to Helen’s bedroom. He opened the door slightly and saw her curled up on the bed. She cried out again, but this time making a sound which was something between a scream and a cry. A sound that disturbed him.
“Helen.” Romero called softly from the doorway, but she didn’t answer, she just cried out again. “Helen!” he tried again. It was no use she was too far into her dream to hear him. Romero walked into the bedroom and gently sat down on the edge of her bed. He smoothed her hair back from her forehead and said her name gently again. “Helen, you’re dreaming, wake up.”
With an almighty gasp Helen sat up sharply and screamed “No!”
Romero jumped and nearly fell off the bed – he hadn’t been expecting such a dramatic awakening. He reached out for her and rubbed the sides of her arms as he watched her struggle to regain her breath. “Hey, it was just a dream, you are safe now Helen. You are in my home. I’m here, and you are safe.”
Helen looked at him with scared eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and then without a word she lay back down on the bed and relaxed. Romero was about to say something else but he heard the sound of her deep breathing and realised she was already asleep. Deciding it could wait until the morning he stood up and walked back to his bedroom, and put his gun safely away in the bedside drawer again. Lying back down on his bed he began thinking; it could have been just a bad dream, or had Helen been remembering something? Whatever it was it would have to wait; Helen was asleep for now and he was tired, so he closed his eyes again.
Romero woke up in the morning to the smell of bacon. He lay in his bed for a moment trying to make some sense of the tempting aroma, then he remembered his house guest. He ran his hands over his face remembering why he was so tired and what caused his lack of sleep, then he realising he still had his pyjamas bottoms on from getting up in the night. He threw the covers back and walked straight out the bedroom to investigate what was going on in his kitchen.
Romero stood at the door and watched as Helen was singing along to the radio as she stood in front of the oven cooking bacon and what looked like eggs. He glanced at the table and saw it had been set for two with orange juice already poured, and he could smell the coffee perculating in the machine. He wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed that his kitchen had been totally taken over, or follow his stomach’s feeling of happiness in anticipation of the breakfast.
“That smells good.” Romero finally said after spending a few more minutes admiring the view in his kitchen - Helen was dressed in a tiny pair of shorts she had purchased yesterday and a little shirt tied around her waist which hugged her curves perfectly. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and he noticed she didn’t have any shoes on as her feet tapped away to the beat of the music whilst she cooked.
She swung around and smiled brightly at him standing in the doorway. Then her smile dropped as she realised he was wearing nothing more than his pyjama bottoms. His cappuccino skin was perfectly smooth across his well sculptured pecks, apart from a sprinkling of dark curly hairs which thickened slightly as it reached his waist. She hadn’t expected him to have so much muscle, it had been well hidden beneath his bulky police uniform, and now she could see every contour of his well-defined biceps. Helen tried to look away but she couldn’t take her eyes off him - letting them start at his dark brown sparkling eyes, then trail down across his full smiling lips, to his sculptured chest, onto his solid muscular stomach and then to where the dark line of hair disappeared beneath the top of his pyjama bottoms. At that point Helen pulled her eyes away and quickly turned back to the oven before the eggs burned.
“Breakfast is ready.” She said in an unsteady voice hoping he couldn’t see how pink her burning cheeks surely were.
“Oh yes.” Romero said finally moving, he had been rooted to the spot – he had thought Helen was a pleasurable sight from behind, but when she turned around she had taken his breath away; her tiny shirt barely covered her ample breasts and he was sure the buttons were threatening to pop off at any point. He had a feeling it must have been one of Cathy’s shirts because he could see now how their figures differed - Helen definitely had more curves. “I’ll just go get dressed.” He said as he headed off to his bedroom needing a moment to compose himself, especially after the way she had been looking at him.
Helen put the eggs and bacon on two plates whilst giving herself a strong talking to – she didn’t know what was wrong with her, it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen a half-naked man before! Of course she had, she supposed she had seen much more than that, she just couldn’t remember it right now, but yesterday the beach had been full of almost naked men, so what was the surprise to see a semi-naked man now? But this wasn’t just some random stranger on the beach. This was Romero. Sergeant Romero Sanchez - the man who saved her life and had eyes she could fall into and stay there forever! Twice now he had picked her up and held her in his arms, and no wonder he had so easily swept her off her feet with muscles like that! It felt far too intimate and her cheeks burned again.
Helen turned the hob off as she fanned herself with her spare hand feeling the heat, and she was sure it wasn’t just from the oven. She took out the fresh bread from yesterday and tore it into chunks smearing the pieces with strawberry jam. She smiled at the anticipation of eating it, something had made her want to buy the jam yesterday and she had a feeling she was going to like it. Putting the plates on the table she sat down and waited for Romero.
“Nice breakfast.” Romero said tucking into his bacon and eggs. He wasn’t too sure about the red sticky stuff on the bread though, it didn’t look that appealing.
“Try the bread and jam.” Helen said handing a piece across to him.
He looked at it tentatively and then took a bite. To his surprise it was good, very good. The flavour of the jam mixed with the fresh bread complimented the eggs perfect. He looked at her and smiled. “Muy rico!”
“Don’t sound so surprised.” She laughed.
“So we know you can cook. Great potato salad last night and ricissimo breakfast this morning. You obviously remember how to do that. What else do you remember?” He asked as he sat watching her.
“I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about it, I just made the food automatically.” She paused deep in thought. “I know that mint makes a great sauce to go with lamb, and if you put a leaf of it with cucumber in a Pimms then you have a fabulous drink.” She looked amazed that she seemed to know these things, “But anything about me, that’s just blank.” She sighed with frustration.
“Do you realise you were singing along to the music, you knew the words.” Romero pointed out remembering her singing earlier, she was actually quite good.
“Really? What was I singing?” She asked surprised, she hadn’t realised she had been singing, never mind that Romero had been watching her. She wondered how long he had been standing in the doorway before she realised he was there.
“I don’t know, some English song.” He finished his plate of food and sat back as he waited for her to finish too. Romero broached the subject of her dream with caution, “Do you remember me waking you up in the night? Do you remember what yo
u were dreaming about?” “Waking me up in the night?” She asked confused, when had he done that? She didn’t remember a thing after her head had touched the soft white pillow until she woke up feeling refreshed about an hour ago.
“Yes, I had to wake you up. You don’t remember?”
Helen shook her head.
“Do you remember your dream?”
“Did I have a dream?” She had no idea what Romero was talking about.
Romero guessed she didn’t remember it then and thought it was a shame. He had a feeling the dream could contain some kind of clue for her. “I think this morning we should go to the place where I found you. That way we can see if anything jogs your memory.”
Helen looked at him warily, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wanted to do all she could to get her memory back, but she wasn’t sure what kind of feelings going there could hold for her. Romero leaned across the table and rubbed her hand, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you.”
She nodded and continued to eat her breakfast.
CHAPTER FIVE
Romero parked his car outside Juan’s bar just as he had done a few nights ago and looked at Helen in the seat next to him. “Do you recognise this at all?”
“Are we here?” Helen asked as she looked around. “No, I don’t.”
Romero could see her hands shaking slightly and he put a reassuring hand over hers. She looked at him; the warmth of his hand on hers and his smile eased the tremors vibrating throughout her body.