by Dawn Tamayo
Helen turned back to Romero quickly. He was looking at her with no expression at all.
“My what?” she asked feeling like she could hardly breathe.
“Do you remember anything else now?” Romero asked as he walked across to the photograph standing next to Helen’s clean crisp white bed. He picked it up looking at the couple in the frame.
“What did you say? No I don’t remember anything else, this is all strange. Very nice, but very strange.” She replied.
“I said your fiancé was here looking for you, he most probably has your handbag.” Romero handed across the picture frame to her and she looked at the smiling couple in the photograph; she was standing next to a tall man with sandy coloured hair and his arm was around her. Helen looked at herself in the photograph - it was her, but she looked different somehow. She knew it was her standing in the photograph, but she didn’t recognise the person she used to be, she had no idea who that person was! And as for the tall good looking, immaculately dressed, man next to her in his smart linen suit, she certainly had no idea who he was!
“My fiancé?” She asked Romero holding up the photograph in question.
“Yes, that’s him. His name is Oliver Chapman. Do you remember him?” Romero had expected the whole reality to come rushing back to Helen when she saw the photograph of her beloved fiancé. He thought that surely seeing the man she loved would bring all her memories back, but obviously not. “Do you still not remember anything?” He asked surprised.
“No!” Helen shouted in frustration. She threw the picture frame on the bed and turned around walking out of the room, back to the living room.
Romero followed closely behind her.
“Helen, there is something I need to tell you.” He didn’t like to be the one to break the bad news to her, but he rather it was him than someone else.
Helen looked up and waited, what more earth-shattering news could there possibly be than she had a fiancé who had waited nearly two weeks before he reported her missing?
Romero picked up the photograph of her parents from the side and handed it to her.
“The phone call I had just now, it was a friend of mine giving me some more information on you. I asked them to look into your background - I was trying to help you, you understand that don’t you?” He wanted to reassure her.
Helen nodded and waited to hear what he had to say - she knew Romero would never do anything to hurt her, he had been the most amazing person to her and she would never forget that.
“Your parents didn’t report you missing because they couldn’t. They were both killed in a car crash two years ago in England. After that it seems you moved over here to Spain. I am so sorry Helen, but your parents are dead.” Romero moved to the sofa next to her and took her hand in his. He could feel it shaking.
She didn’t speak but sat there quietly, not uttering word, just tracing the contours of her parents in the photograph in her hands.
After a few minutes of silence Romero was beginning to worry. “Helen?” He urged.
“It’s alright Romero, I know. I don’t remember it, but somehow my heart just knows, and I also know I loved them very much.”
“I am sure you did, they look like lovely people.”
Helen hugged the photograph to her chest as she felt Romero move away from her and walk across the room. She had been vaguely aware of the sound of his mobile phone ringing again, and she guessed he had gone to answer it. She looked up at him waiting for her next piece of earth-shattering news; it was becoming quite a morning for it!
Romero ended the call and hung his head for a moment. He took a deep breath and looked back to Helen. “That was a colleague of mine at my police station. It seems your fiancé has telephoned into the Estepona police station and pulled a few strings there. They have looked into your case and seen the notes on the computer system – they have just notified him that you have been found, and that you are here. Apparently he must have some ‘friends’ there! He is on his way back from Benidorm now in his helicopter.” Romero raised an eyebrow in slight amusement thinking he had bought Helen here on a long hot train journey, and now he was handing her over to someone who would be flying her around in a helicopter.
Helen looked at Romero with raised eyebrows – her fiancé had a helicopter?
“You know you don’t have to go back to him if you don’t want to.” Romero knew he was being unrealistic and unfair, but he couldn’t help hope she would stand up right now and walk out of her apartment, and ask him to take her back to Villajoyosa with him. But looking at Helen he knew she wouldn’t do that. She was too good and kind for that - by the looks of the photograph there was a fiancé out there who she used to be happy and in love with, and who loved her and wants her back. The Helen he knew wouldn’t just walk out on her fiancé. Romero took a deep breath and composed himself - he always known this was only temporary, and it wasn’t Helen’s fault how he felt right now, like his gut was being wrenched out of him. So Romero decided he had to do everything he could to make this as easy as possible for her to go back to her old life.
Helen looked at Romero for a long time, she could swear she could feel her heart breaking second by second, but there was nothing she could do. One day her memory would come back and she would remember why she loved the man she had promised to marry. He certainly looked nice enough in the photograph, and it wasn’t his fault she couldn’t remember him yet. Besides, she had always known that it would never be permanent with Romero, and she supposed that was why it had been so amazing and exciting with him. It was just a flash in the pan – a very hot sexy and exciting flash in a pan! She couldn’t deny that she was scared to meet this man, her so-called fiancé. But she told herself that she must have loved him very much at one time to say she would marry him, and they looked happy together in the photograph, so Helen pushed that feeling down and tried to look at the positive. The nightmare of not knowing who she was, was over. It was time to go back to her life, and this Oliver Chapman would no doubt help her find herself again.
Romero could see the conflicting emotions cross Helen’s face and he didn’t want to make it any harder for her. “It’s alright Helen, this is where you are meant to be. I will take you to the police station in Estepona myself now, I’ll call ahead and have Oliver Chapman collect you from there. It would be better that way, less questions.” He said referring to the fact that he was here with her out of his police uniform; it wouldn’t be good for either of them to have people speculating over their relationship now.
Helen nodded and stood up, putting down her parent’s photograph on the table. Numbly she followed Romero out to the hire car and sat quietly as he drove her to the police station in Estepona.
Helen and Romero walked into the police station where Romero showed his police identification briefly to the officer on the reception. The officer immediately turned to Helen with a big smile on his face, “Señorita Jones, we are very pleased you are home. We had a message to say you would be with us shortly, so we have informed Mr Chapman of your imminent arrival. He will be here to collect you very soon. Can I offer you a drink while you wait. A cup of tea or coffee?”
Helen was taken back, she wasn’t expecting such a warm welcome. “No thank you.”
“Please, take a seat here.” He said indicating to the little seating area in the reception.
“If you don’t mind I would rather wait outside. I will be on the seat out there.” Helen said pointing to the bench outside the police station door. With all the revelations of this morning she needed some fresh air and she couldn’t stand the idea of sitting in the little stuffy reception area.
“Of course.” The officer said obviously put out - he didn’t want to let the woman out of his sight, he wanted to be the one to hand her back to Oliver Chapman - he was sure the Englishman wouldn’t forget him for that and he would be generously rewarded. The officer turned to Romero who was standing by Helen’s side, “Thank you Sergeant, we will take care of Señorita Jones from
here.”
“Sí, da cuerdo.” Romero said reluctant to leave Helen, but knowing he must. He turned to her wishing they were somewhere more private to say their goodbyes, but the officer’s eyes were firmly on them, and he had no doubt they would still be even if he took Helen outside. Romero held out his hand formerly to shake hers, and forced a small smile onto his lips. “It has been a pleasure. Take care señorita.”
Helen took his hand feeling it warm and strong around hers. She felt him squeeze it a little harder, as if to silently convey a final goodbye, and then all too quickly he let it go, and she watched the back of him as he walked out of the station, and out of her life.
Every sense in Helen’s body was screaming at her to run after Romero, to beg him to take her with him, but she knew she had to stay put and focus on what was about to come, or rather who was about to come. She stifled back the tears and cleared the lump from her throat. Without looking back at the police officer who was literally salivating over her she walked outside to the long bench and sat down.
Helen hadn’t been waiting for long when a large black car pulled up in front of her onto the no parking zone outside the station. She didn’t know much about cars but she knew a very expensive car when she saw one, and she had a feeling this was the moment she had been waiting for, or was it dreading? The driver’s door opened and a tall sandy haired man stepped out. Helen sat fixed to the bench; she recognised the man from the photograph in her bedroom but she still couldn’t bring herself to move.
“Helen. Oh my god Helen, thank goodness you are alright? Where have you been?” The tall man said as he walked quickly towards her.
Helen stood up and tried to find her voice, “Oliver?”
The man stopped short, he realised she really didn’t recognise him. He smiled warmly at her. “They said you had lost your memory Helen.”
She nodded squinting against the sun as she looked up at him.
“Don’t worry Darling everything will be alright. I am here to look after you, and you will be home soon.” He said as he closed the gap between them and pulled her up from the bench into his arms. Helen felt Oliver’s arms fold around her. She put her arms around his body more out of impulse than need. It felt strange, she knew she should have felt at home in her fiancé’s arms, but she didn’t. It felt so wrong, she wanted to feel Romero’s arms around her right now when she was so frightened of what lie ahead, but she knew she couldn’t and wouldn’t ever again. At that thought she burst out crying huge sobs with flowing tears.
Oliver looked down at Helen, relieved to see her safe. “I know Helen, it must have been a terrible time not knowing who you were or where you were. But I promise I will make all this up to you. I promise.” He said as he held her even tighter. “Come on, let’s get you into the car and go home.”
Helen nodded against his chest and let him lead her towards his car. Out of the corner of her eye Helen saw Oliver discretely pass something to the police officer who had been waiting just inside the doorway, and then he ushered her into his car, waiting until she was safely inside before he closed the door behind her. Oliver Chapman walked around to the driver’s side of the car and got inside. He manoeuvred the car out, and sped off down the road.
CHAPTER NINE
Helen watched as Oliver drove them to the outskirts of the small town of Estepona. He finally took a turning off the main road and drove along a long driveway until he reached a large set of intricately patterned iron gates.
“Where are we going?” She asked confused, she had expected him to take her back to her apartment.
“Home, I told you I am taking you home.” Oliver said smiling as he reached out through his open window and tapped in the security code on the electronic keypad to the gates.
“But this isn’t my home. I thought we were going back to my apartment.” She said warily.
He laughed gently, “I think I need to explain a lot of things to you. Or rather remind you.” Oliver squeezed her knee gently as the large gates opened in front of them and he drove them through, and up the driveway.
Helen watched through the wing mirror as the gates closed behind them. “Stop the car Oliver!”
Oliver looked at her like she was crazy, they were nearly home and he just wanted to get her into the house and settled.
“I said stop the car!” Helen shouted and started to open the car door in panic as Oliver continued to drive along the driveway.
Seeing her open the door Oliver stopped the car and Helen jumped out.
“What’s the matter Helen, this isn’t like you. Get back in the car.” Oliver called to her through the open car door.
Helen wondered where Romero was now. She wished he would drive by right now so she could run away with him, to hell with what she should do.
Oliver got out of the car and walked around to where Helen stood. She stepped back as he approached her, stopping him in his tracks.
“Helen, what’s wrong?” Concern etched on his face.
“This, this is all wrong!” Helen said throwing her hands in the air.
“No it’s not. You are Helen Jones, my fiancée and the woman I love. And I am Oliver Chapman your fiancé, and you love me. You will see once you get inside the house. Everything will be clearer then.” He promised.
“I know that was true, I saw us in a photograph at my apartment, but I don’t remember you or any of this. You can’t just drive me off to somewhere behind huge locked gates and expect me not to freak out. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t know where I am. I need some time to adjust.” Helen stood looking at Oliver, not moving from her spot. For the first time in a long time she felt strong - yes she was scared, but she wasn’t going to be taken somewhere she didn’t want to go, or do something she didn’t’ want to do. She may not remember who Helen Jones was, but she was beginning to know who Helen Jones is now.
Oliver looked at her for a moment and then realised she was right.
“I’m sorry Helen, that was very insensitive of me. Of course you must be totally overwhelmed by all of this. This is my house and you have been living here with me for the last month since we have been engaged. You still have your apartment but you don’t live there anymore, you said you were going to put it up for rent soon but you have been too busy to get around to it. Please, come back into the car and I will show you everything.” Oliver said gently getting back into the car. He sat patiently and waited for Helen, then once she got back in and closed the door he drove off, but this time at a slower speed.
Helen looked across at Oliver as he drove them up the long driveway to his grand villa, “I’m sorry.” She felt guilty for taking her paranoia out on Oliver, it obviously wasn’t his fault.
“That’s alright Helen, we’ll get through this, you’ll see.” He said as they pulled up outside the huge white stone house with a big red front door.
Helen sat with a glass of white wine in her hand as she looked across the view from the dining room balcony. It was truly breath taking - the green and brown mountains rolled away to one side, as the sea beckoned to her in the distance on the other. She looked up as Oliver walked out onto the balcony and took the chair in front of her. He took a sip of his Jack Daniels on ice. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Mrs Becks is making your favourite.” He waited for Helen to respond and then he realised she had no idea what her favourite was. “Paella Valenciana.”
Helen smiled, she knew she liked that and she was glad to know that something hadn’t changed. Oliver had given her a glass of wine telling her it was her favourite, but Helen couldn’t understand why because she certainly didn’t think much of it now. She sipped at it politely wondering if anything would ever be the same as it was before.
“Do you have my handbag?” Helen asked.
Oliver paused and put his glass back on the table. “Your handbag?”
“Yes, it wasn’t at my apartment and Ro….. the policeman said that you probably had it.”
“Yes it’s here, would you like me to
get it for you?” Oliver asked and walked back inside as Helen nodded.
As Helen waited for Oliver to return she relaxed a little as she realised that even though she didn’t remember details of the house, she did feel comfortable here and could imagine it being her home. She was astounded at how many more clothes she had when she realised she had a whole wardrobe full of clothes here too. She loved the idea of all these beautiful clothes, any girl would, but she felt the sheer quantity was excessive and she couldn’t imagine actually getting the time to wear them all. Helen made a mental note to have a clear out of a few of her clothes before she went back to visit Cathy, and she would take some of them to her - after all Cathy had shared her clothes with her once, and she wanted to do the same in return.
Oliver walked back onto the balcony and handed Helen a dark brown soft leather handbag. She thanked him and put in on the table taking out the contents; keys, tissues, perfume atomiser, she sprayed a little on her wrists and recognised the smell from the perfume at her apartment, small hairbrush, a few receipts and nothing else.
Oliver’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “Helen, do you have any idea what happened to you? Where have you been? I thought you were dead!”
Helen looked up at him surprised. “Dead? Why would you think that?”
Oliver avoided her question and pressed her for an answer, “Where were you all this time Helen?”
She put the contents back into her handbag and looked at Oliver, he looked genuinely upset and she felt a pang of guilt. “I don’t know what happened, but a policeman found me on the beach in Benidorm with a head wound.” She moved her hair aside showing him a tiny mark left on her forehead. “I was in hospital in Benidorm, then I was put into a safe house until either the Embassy found out who I was or I remembered something. Whichever came first.”