‘Have you seen Jasper at the hospital?’ Rita asks quietly.
Amber pauses. ‘He does work there, so yes.’
‘And …?’ Viv asks.
‘And what?’ Amber asks, trying to make her tone flat.
‘Well …’ her mum replies. Amber knows what she’s desperate to ask: Did they talk? Was there a connection? Will they get remarried? Her mum and aunt adored Jasper and were devastated when they divorced. It was only recently they seemed to give up hope of them ever getting back together. A small thing like this could bring all that misguided hope back.
‘He just passed by, we said hi,’ Amber lies. ‘Look, I need to go now. Phones don’t work well in showers. I’ll call you later.’
‘Okay, love,’ Rita says. ‘You take care, all right?’
‘Will do.’ Amber hangs up then stands quiet for a few moments. She catches sight of her naked body in the mirror. The curve of her plump tummy. The sag of her heavy breasts. She smoothes her fingers over her thighs, feeling the cellulite. Then her fingers creep up to find the scar from her c-section. Her eyes glisten with tears and she thinks of the way Jasper had looked at her in the lift. ‘Oh, Jasper,’ she whispers to herself.
An hour later, she’s back at the hospital. The girl is sitting up in bed, staring out of the window. Her eyes light up when she sees Amber.
‘I brought some stuff,’ Amber says, laying a large shopping bag on the chair. ‘First this,’ she says, pulling an A4 plain paper pad out with a pencil set.
The girl smiles. ‘Thank you.’
‘And after your wonderful experience at breakfast, I thought you might fancy a break from hospital food. Plus,’ she says as she unpacks the food items she bought on the way, ‘I thought we could turn it into a bit of a memory game. I read once that taste can trigger memories.’
The girl’s face lights up even more as she takes in the large chocolate bar laid on her table. ‘I like this idea.’
‘Me too, mainly because it means I get to join in,’ Amber says with a wink. ‘Let’s start with this,’ she says, holding up a jar of Marmite.
‘Marmite,’ the girl says. ‘I think I know this.’
‘But do you like it? That is the question.’
‘I don’t remember.’
‘Only one way to find out,’ Amber says, opening the jar and handing the girl a spoon. ‘I find whether someone like or dislikes Marmite is a good personality barometer.’ The girl takes the spoon, scoops a small amount out and tentatively brings it to her mouth. She pulls a face as she tastes it. ‘Disgusting.’
‘Yes, I knew it! It’s foul, isn’t it? My aunt loves it and used to force-feed it to me as a child in the hope I’d change my mind. I think it’s the devil’s food … so let’s save it for the porter.’
The girl giggles.
‘Right, chocolate next,’ Amber says, pointing to the chocolate bar.
‘I have to like this. I kind of know I do,’ the girl says as she unwraps it.
‘Who doesn’t?’
The girl breaks it in half and offers Amber the other half. Amber takes it, smiling as they both take bites, saying ‘Mmmmm’ at the same time. Over the next ten minutes, they try different foods from salt and vinegar crisps – a yes from the girl – to liquorice – a determined no.
‘As it’s nearly Christmas,’ Amber says, ‘I thought we’d try some of this too.’
She reaches into her bag for the item she’d been saving for last, a large gingerbread man. She remembers buying one for Katy the Christmas before she passed away. They’d walked around the annual fair hand-in-hand, cheeks rosy from the cold, as Katy nibbled on it. Amber had seen one as she’d been walking to the hospital earlier and knew she had to get it for the girl.
The girl turns it over in her hands, brow furrowed as she examines it. ‘I think I’ve had one of these before.’ She places it against her chest and closes her eyes. ‘Yes, I had one around my neck once, bigger than this. There was a red ribbon through it and I could lift it to my mouth whenever I fancied a bite.’ She opens the cellophane wrapping, deep in her memories as she lifts the biscuit to her mouth. She bites into it and gently chews.
Then her eyes suddenly dart open and she throws the biscuit away.
‘What’s wrong?’ Amber asks.
‘Something bad happened when I had this,’ the girls says in a trembling voice. ‘It happened at the lodge,’ she continues, words stumbling over one another. ‘A man with dark hair, a beard. I’m crying and … and I’m so scared.’ Her breathing grows heavier, her fingers clutching her covers. Amber sits close to her, putting her arm around the girl’s trembling shoulders. ‘We’re reaching out to each other and someone’s screaming,’ the girl continues. ‘And he’s saying, “Lumin, Lumin”.’ The girl looks at Amber with wide eyes. ‘Is that my name, Lumin?’
‘Sounds like it is,’ Amber whispers. She pulls the girl close as she begins to cry.
‘What’s happening in here?’ Amber looks up to see the nurse Jasper knows at the cubicle curtains.
‘She’s just remembering things,’ Amber says as she strokes the girl’s hair. ‘We think her name might be Lumin. It’s an unusual name, so it might help us find out who she is …’
‘What’s all this?’ the nurse asks, surveying all the food Amber brought in.
‘I was trying to help her remember,’ Amber says. ‘And the food’s not exactly great here for a vegetarian,’ she adds.
The nurse picks up the packet of cashew nuts. ‘Are you crazy? How do we know the girl isn’t allergic to nuts?’
‘She isn’t! She’s fine. And can we stop calling her girl now her name might be Lumin?’
‘Might be,’ the nurse says. ‘You can not bring in food like this in. We know nothing about Lumin nor her allergies. It’s too much of a risk.’
Lumin wipes her tears away. ‘Amber’s only trying to help.’
‘Well, it’s not her job. It’s mine,’ the nurse says, crossing her arms.
Amber and the nurse hold each other’s gaze for a moment before the nurse breaks it. ‘Anyway, the police are here. You need to go, Miss Caulfield,’ she says, seeming to take pleasure in using Amber’s maiden name. ‘We can take over from here.’
‘I don’t want her to go,’ Lumin says, grasping at Amber’s hand.
‘I’ll just go to the café,’ Amber says to her. ‘I’ll be up as soon as the interview is over. It will be fine,’ she adds, forcing a smile. ‘The police know how to deal with things like this. I bet you remember even more things after you talk to them.’ Amber squeezes her hand then walks out, the nurse giving her daggers as she leaves. What is her problem?
As Amber walks through the ward, a smartly dressed man and woman approach her.
‘Amber Caulfield?’ the man asks.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m Detective King and this is Detective Matthews. We’re investigating the girl you found on the beach. Any chance of grabbing a word after we’ve spoken to her?’
‘Of course. I’ll wait in the café downstairs.’
‘Perfect. See you there.’
Amber watches them walk towards Lumin’s cubicle and catches a glimpse of Lumin’s fearful eyes as they part the curtains. Amber wishes she could stay in there with her. But then feels foolish for even thinking it. What right does she have? She’s not her mother.
I’m not anyone’s mother, she thinks.
She walks down to the café feeling sullen, mumbles her order and carries her coffee back to a small table.
‘Hello again.’ She looks up to see Jasper smiling down at her, his rucksack over his shoulder … the same rucksack he used for work when they were married. ‘You’re becoming a bit of a regular visitor to the hospital. How’s the girl?’
‘Lumin. She’s fine.’
His face lights up. ‘She remembered her name?’
Amber nods. ‘I did a sort of memory thing with her. Brought in lots of different foods to see if they might act as a trigger.’
Jasper l
aughs. ‘God, you’re clever.’
‘Your nurse friend didn’t seem to think so. She had a right go at me.’
‘Mind if I join you?’ he asks, ignoring her reference to the nurse. ‘I just finished my shift and need a coffee.’
Amber shrugs. ‘Sure.’
He shoves his rucksack on the floor. ‘Another coffee?’ he asks. ‘Or how about a cinnamon muffin? I remember how much you liked those.’
‘No, thanks, already had breakfast courtesy of the NHS.’
He smiles to himself. ‘You’re lucky, visitors aren’t usually allowed.’
‘It was leftover. Lumin is a vegetarian so I got to eat the sausage.’
‘Another thing you’ve found out. You’d make a good detective.’
Amber watches him as he goes to the counter, all tall and gangly and handsome. He hasn’t changed. She wonders if she has. What does he see when he looks at her? A slightly more overweight, more cynical, more tired version of the woman he fell in love with?
He comes back with his coffee and sits down.
‘When are the police visiting?’ he asks.
‘Now,’ Amber replies.
‘That’s why you’re biting your nails like crazy,’ he says, gesturing towards her fingertips.
She nods, tucking her right hand under her armpits.
‘She’ll be fine,’ he says.
‘I know. She was just a little bit distressed before they turned up.’
Amber tells him about the memory Lumin had and his brow furrows. ‘Maybe she’s a runaway,’ he says. ‘That would explain why nobody knows her here.’
‘Maybe.’ Amber puts her hand to her mouth again, chewing at her nails.
‘She’s really got to you, hasn’t she?’
Amber looks up at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean you care for her. It’s good.’ He pauses a moment, looking down into his coffee. Then he looks back up at Amber with sad eyes. ‘Maybe you’re projecting Katy onto her. She would have been fifteen this year.’
Amber feels herself tense. Why was he always so bloody blunt? ‘No, I’m not!’
He reaches across, placing his hand on hers. ‘There’s nothing wrong with admitting it, Amber. Nothing wrong with remembering. I know it still hurts, but it’s been ten years.’
Amber moves her hand out from under his. ‘This has nothing to do with Katy.’
‘Really? I worry about you. I worry you still keep it all wound up inside.’
She laughs. ‘Do you realise how patronising you sound? I’m doing perfectly well, thanks.’
‘So you feel you’ve moved on, do you?’
Her mouth drops open. ‘Moved on? From the death of my child? Is that even possible? Anyway,’ she adds, gesturing around her and making an effort to lower her voice, ‘do explain to me how you’ve moved on. You’re still working all the hours God sends at this place. You even still have that same old rucksack,’ she adds, pointing to his bag.
‘Sure, some things remain the same,’ he says calmly. ‘But I’ve moved away. I even went travelling for a few weeks last year. Have you been anywhere?’
‘Travelling, hey?’ Amber says. ‘Wouldn’t happen to be with the busty nurse from the children’s ward, would it? If that’s your idea of moving on then fine, I really don’t care,’ she says, leaning back and folding her arms. ‘I’ve had my fair share of dates.’
Jasper pinches his lips together. ‘Nothing’s going on with Jen.’ He meets her gaze. ‘Truth is, I never quite got over you. Kinda puts women off, hankering after your ex.’
Amber feels her cheeks flush, all the old feelings rushing back. ‘Don’t say that.’
Jasper opens his mouth to say something else but a shadow falls across them. They both look up to see Detective King standing over them, slightly out of breath. ‘Can you come up, Miss Caulfield? Lumin’s a bit …’ He pauses. ‘She’s a bit distressed and said she won’t calm down until she sees you.’
Amber quickly stands and Jasper grabs her arm. ‘She’s not Katy,’ he says softly.
‘I know,’ Amber hisses. ‘Jesus.’ She shrugs his hand off then follows the officer to the lift.
Lumin is sitting scrunched up in the corner of her bed, her head to her knees. Magazines are scattered on the floor and a cup of tea has been overturned, the brown liquid spilling over the side table. Lumin’s bed covers are thrown to the side and Amber can see her bare feet, the remnants of blue nail varnish on her toes. It strikes Amber that she hadn’t noticed that before. It reveals a life before this – a carefree life that had Lumin painting her nails with a smile on her face.
‘Lumin?’ Amber says gently, going to her and crouching in front of her. Lumin’s head darts up. She looks ready for confrontation but her face relaxes when she realises it’s Amber.
A doctor walks in, a tall Indian man with a beard. He takes in the magazines that are scattered on the floor and the spilt tea. ‘Everything okay here?’ he asks.
‘She got a bit upset at the questioning,’ Detective Matthews explains.
‘Very common with head injuries,’ the doctor says as he looks at Lumin’s notes. ‘Sudden changes in temperament, outbursts, depression, just like the flashes of white and headaches you’ve been getting, Lumin. All par for the course.’
‘You’re making it seem like I had a tantrum,’ Lumin says in a fierce voice. ‘I was just being made to feel like I’m somehow making this all up,’ she adds, staring at the two police officers.
‘It’s nothing personal,’ Detective King says. ‘We’re just trying to figure out exactly where you come from so we can get you home again.’
‘You don’t think I want to go home?’ Lumin says. Amber takes the seat next to Lumin’s bed, watching as she wipes her tears away. She seems older now. Maybe even over eighteen. There’s a new confidence in her face, the vulnerability less pronounced.
‘Amber’s here now,’ Detective Matthews says gently. ‘That’s what you wanted. Shall we continue? Or we can save it for another day.’
‘It’s fine,’ Lumin says, pulling the blanket over her legs. ‘Just … just ask your questions.’
The two detectives approach the bed like they’re approaching a caged animal. The woman perches on the end as the man takes the seat next to the bed. The nurse – Jen – hovers by the curtains, ready to pounce, as the doctor leaves.
‘While you’ve been treated, we’ve ascertained you have no distinguishing marks other than your blue highlights. No tattoos or scars,’ Detective King says, looking at his notepad. ‘Your dress and tights are from a high-street store, one of hundreds. And we have found no evidence of a bag in the area we’ve searched. There was a notepad in your pocket which we’ve had a look through. But again, no clue to your identity.’
‘We’ve checked CCTV in the area,’ Detective Matthews says, leaning forward. ‘You appeared from the trees, above the playground. Does that ring a bell?’
Lumin shakes her head. ‘No, I just remember being on the beach.’
‘Why not tell us about that then?’ the detective says gently.
Lumin puts her hand to her temples and massages them. ‘I heard voices, laughter.’ She looks back at Amber, face softening. ‘It was you and the other two ladies. I looked down at my feet, saw I didn’t have shoes on. Something was wrong. I was – I am – so confused.’ Her breath quickens.
‘Take your time,’ Amber says softly.
Lumin takes a quick gulp of water then nods. ‘I knew I needed help. So I started walking towards the voices. I was so confused. What had happened? Why wasn’t I wearing a coat, shoes? I tried to grapple with my thoughts and I started to realise … I didn’t know anything.’ She purses her lips, tears forming in her eyes, and looks down at her hands. ‘That’s when you came to me,’ she says to Amber. Amber takes her hand and squeezes it.
‘What memories do you have from before the beach?’ Detective Matthews asks.
‘Eating a gingerbread man. A house or a lodge. Curtains with red robins on the
m.’ She pauses. ‘A man with a beard. But they feel like distant memories.’
Amber reaches over for the picture she drew and hands it over. ‘She drew this.’
Detective King takes it and looks at it. ‘Could be anywhere,’ he says as Detective Matthews takes a photo with her phone.
‘Anything else?’ she asks.
‘A man with a beard calling out the name Lumin as he reaches towards me,’ Lumin replies. ‘I think that must be my name. It feels right. And – and I just remember crying and it being so hot and feeling scared. But that’s it, that’s all I can remember.’
Detective Matthews’ brow furrows. ‘Anything else?’
Lumin takes a deep, shuddery breath. ‘Nope.’
‘Lumin has a frontal lobe injury,’ Jen explains. ‘The regaining of memory can be sporadic. Sometimes long-term memories will return – which is what these sound like – but short-term memories take longer. There’s a good chance the memories Lumin described are from several years ago. Possibly one specific event, a significant event,’ she adds with a worried glance towards Lumin.
‘How long could it be before she regains her full memory?’ Detective Matthews asks.
‘You’re better off speaking to Doctor Rashad about this,’ Jen says. ‘But a few days. In rare cases, months.’
Lumin’s eyes widen and Amber smiles softly at her. ‘She said in rare cases.’
‘We can call you as soon as any significant memories resurface,’ Jen says.
Detective King nods, snapping his notepad shut. ‘Please do. In the meantime, we’ll do a search on the missing persons database. Lumin is a very rare name, if that is indeed your name,’ he adds. ‘It’s bound to turn something up. If it turns nothing up, I recommend we take some DNA samples. It would be useful to talk to Doctor Rashad now, then we’d like to chat to you, Miss Caulfield.’
Amber nods. The detectives and nurse walk out, leaving Amber and Lumin alone. Lumin stares at the sketch she drew that morning.
‘You okay?’ Amber asks.
Lumin nods but Amber can see in her eyes she isn’t.
‘You’re good at drawing,’ Amber says, sensing the girl wants to distract herself.
The Girl on the Beach: A Heartbreaking Page Turner With a Stunning Twist Page 7