by Sibel Hodge
Tears of appreciation prick at my eyes. The promise I made myself in the dead of night not to cry is hard to keep up in the cold light of day. But I have to hold it together. My survival depends on it. ‘I feel safe here.’
‘I’m glad about that, but if you go anywhere without me, text or phone me so I know where you are. That way, if something happens, I’ll be able to find you.’
‘Thanks.’
‘You don’t have to thank me.’ He shrugs casually, but a note of vulnerability filters through his voice. ‘It’s what friends do, isn’t it?’
~~~~
‘I’ve left Liam,’ I tell Dr Drew.
He raises his eyebrows slightly. ‘And how do you feel about that?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t had much time to process it, really.’
‘Do you want to think about it now? We have time.’
I stare over his shoulder out the window. ‘It feels like I’ve been living in the middle of a volcano for years. I’ve been drowning underneath molten lava that’s bubbling away, threatening to erupt at any moment. Now the volcano’s gone off, and my life’s just exploded.’
‘Volcanoes are destructive. But they also create fertility and life. A natural cycle of growth.’
‘Yes.’ I nod. ‘I feel sad, of course, but I just feel this overwhelming relief, too. And I’ve got a little spark of hope. A flicker of excitement that there are new possibilities out there. My life doesn’t have to be controlled anymore. I can do what I want, say what I want, go where I want. I feel free.’
‘Then that’s a good thing. And you certainly look physically better than when I last saw you, so something must agree with you.’
‘But then there’s the other problem, isn’t there? The person still out there that I don’t know about. I mean, it’s weird, isn’t it? I left Liam before, and I don’t even remember. I must’ve gone through the same thoughts before, done the same things, and I can’t bloody remember it. And that’s the key, isn’t it? If I’m naturally retracing my footsteps, what would I have done next?’
‘Only you can answer that.’
‘But I don’t know the answer!’ I gnaw on my lip. ‘I remembered a little bit about dropping my phone at home before I left him. If I remember that, why can’t I remember anything else? Anything useful.’
‘Maybe you’re thinking about it too much. Sometimes if we stop thinking about a problem, the answer becomes obvious.’
‘How can I not think about it?’
‘I know it’s hard, but stressing and worrying will only make things worse.’
‘That’s always easy for people to say when it’s not their problem. I’m in limbo. Waiting for something to happen and watching for someone I don’t even know exists.’
‘Do you want to go over the things you’ve told me and see if we can find the answer together about where you might have gone?’
I sit up in my seat. ‘Yes. If it might help.’
‘All right, let’s see.’ Dr Drew clasps his hands together over his stomach. ‘You left Liam and went to Sara’s.’
‘Yes.’
‘You bought some food and supplies.’
I nod.
‘Then you spent the night in her spare room, and the following day you went missing.’ Deep in thought, he steeples his fingers. ‘You’d circled some flats to rent because you didn’t want Liam to know where you were and cause trouble when he found out you’d gone.’
‘That’s right.’
‘You called the first number you marked, but it was above a pub and you didn’t like the idea of that. The second and third flats were already taken.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you presumably left Sara’s house without your purse or bag.’
‘Why wouldn’t I take my purse with me?’
Dr Drew tilts his head. ‘You couldn’t have been going shopping without any money, so that rules that out. You could’ve been just visiting a friend. You could’ve gone back to your house to collect more items. You could’ve gone for a walk.’
‘I don’t think I would’ve gone for a walk.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t walk to clear my head or get perspective on things like some people do. Going for a walk wouldn’t really achieve anything.’
‘Could you have gone to the college? To see your boss or a colleague?’
I know now I didn’t go to see Theresa, but Jordan…would I have gone to see him? To tell him I’d left Liam? No, he would’ve mentioned it, wouldn’t he? And I told him I needed time to get my head together. ‘I doubt it. I would’ve wanted to get on with things. Arrange things. Start organizing my new life without Liam.’
‘Exactly!’ He holds a finger up. ‘From what I see, I think you want to take control of your life. You made the decision to leave Liam, and your first instinct was to go to Sara’s for some breathing space. The next instinct was to phone your bank and give them her address so you could have some sort of financial security without Liam knowing. Then you looked at flats to rent.’
I frown. ‘Yes, but that still doesn’t help me, because I’ve now hit a brick wall.’
‘I think you already have the answer in here, my dear.’ He taps the side of his head. ‘Would you have given up looking for somewhere to live just because those rental properties weren’t an option?’
I think about it. ‘No, I suppose not.’
He smiles. ‘So that would be your logical next step. You were actively seeking somewhere to live.’
‘But where? Where would I have gone?’ I lift my hands in the air in a questioning gesture.
‘Where can you find a multitude of places to rent in one place?’
‘An estate agent.’
‘Exactly. That’s where you should start. Would you have wanted to stay in the area or move somewhere else?’
‘I’d want to stay here. It’s closer to work, and I know the area.’ I think of the town centre. Loads of estate agents are there.
‘Then that’s the next step. You just have to see where it leads you.’
30
I think about phoning Summers and telling him about the estate agents but decide against it. It’s not as if I have concrete proof of a crime happening yet, so he’d just fob me off anyway. He isn’t going to save me, and he can do nothing that I can’t. No, it’s simply a matter of seeing if someone remembers me.
When Jordan comes back from college, we walk into town. He offers to drive, but I would’ve been walking before, so I want to relive it as accurately as possible in case it sparks off a memory. We hit the town centre from the same end I would’ve arrived at from Sara’s. Two shops down on the left is the first estate agent. Jordan opens the door, and we step inside.
The place has four desks, all empty. As we close the door, a suited man in his early twenties, who smells as if he’s poured half a bottle of aftershave over himself, appears through a doorway at the back, chewing something.
‘You caught me eating my lunch!’ He grins sheepishly. ‘We’ve got two people off sick with this flu bug that’s been going around, so I’m trying to do everything.’ He shakes first Jordan’s hand then mine. ‘I’m Guy, how can I help?’ His gaze lingers on my face for a moment longer than necessary. I’ve covered my skin in concealer and foundation to try to hide the scratches, so I don’t know if that’s what he’s looking at or whether he recognizes me.
‘I was wondering if you remember me coming in here nine days ago?’ I ask. ‘I was probably looking for a place to rent.’
‘Probably?’ He tilts his head, seemingly unable to tear his gaze away from my face. ‘Don’t you know?’ He laughs.
‘No, I had an accident, and I can’t remember. I looked different, though. My hair was long and dark.’
‘Oh, sorry to hear that.’ He looks awkward then. ‘Um…I don’t remember you, but you could’ve seen one of the other members of staff. As I said, they’re off sick this week. You can come back another time if you like and ask them.’
‘It’s pretty urgent I find out.’
‘Let me just check our database and see if any of them added you to our mailing list.’ He leans over a computer screen at one of the empty desks and types in a few things. ‘What did you say your name was?’
‘Chloe Benson.’
‘Right.’ More tapping. ‘Well, I can’t see your name on here, so you probably didn’t come in. We do try and get everyone on the database so we can send out details as soon as any property comes in.’
‘Could you possibly ring them at home for me, just to double check? Maybe they forgot to add me to the list for some reason.’ I give him a pleading smile.
He gives me a strange look. ‘Wow, you’re really desperate for a rental, aren’t you?’ He shrugs. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in phoning them.’ He waves a hand at a couple of chairs in front of the desk. ‘Have a seat.’
I chew on the skin at the side of my finger while we wait, listening to Guy as he tries to explain to his colleagues what I’ve told him and then give a description of me.
Ten minutes later, we’re back on the street. No one remembers me.
Jordan points to an estate agent across the road. ‘Let’s try in there.’
Two women sit behind desks. An older woman with severely cut short hair and glasses is on the phone. The other one, with a black ponytail and heavy makeup, gets up and greets us with a smile. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes. Do you remember if I was in here nine days ago looking for a place to rent?’
She scrutinizes my face for a moment. ‘Which property were you interested in? Or did you just want to go on our mailing list?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know if I definitely did come in. Do you remember me? My hair was different, though.’ I smooth a hand over my head. ‘It was long and dark and wavy.’
She glances at Jordan questioningly before dragging her gaze back to me. ‘You don’t remember?’
I sigh impatiently, sick to death of explaining. ‘I’ve lost my memory. I had a head injury, so I can’t remember whether I came in here or not. That’s why I’m asking if you recognize me.’
‘Oh. God.’ She tilts her head, appraising me again. ‘Um…I don’t think I recognize you.’ Her colleague puts the phone down then, and she turns back to her. ‘Sheila, do you remember this lady coming in about nine days ago looking for a place to rent?’
Sheila looks up at me.
‘My hair was different,’ I say. ‘Long and dark and wavy.’
A light of recognition sparks in her face. ‘Oh, yes. Yes, I do remember. Your name’s Chloe?’
‘Yes, how did you remember that?’
‘My daughter’s name is Chloe. It’s hard to forget.’ She smiles. ‘Did you want to go and look at it again?’
‘What did I look at?’
Sheila’s colleague sits behind her desk again and watches me with interest. ‘This lady’s had an accident and lost her memory. She doesn’t remember what happened,’ she tells her with a gossipy glint in her eye.
‘Oh, that’s awful,’ Sheila gasps. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes,’ I say quickly. No time for small talk. ‘So what happened? Did you show me somewhere?’
‘I did. Hang on a sec, let me get the details.’ She walks to a metal filing cabinet behind her desk and pulls open a drawer, sliding folders along until she finds the one she wants. She puts it on her desk then flicks through and hands me a sheet of paper with details of a flat on it. There’s a picture of the outside of the building at the top of the page, along with internal photos, room specifications, and an inventory of exactly what’s included in the rental underneath. ‘This one.’ She taps the paper.
I pick it up to see if it looks familiar. It doesn’t. Inside it’s clean and bright but colourless and bland. A blank canvas. I would want to add warmth. Some bright throws over the sofa, patterned cushions, contrasting bedding, Mediterranean colours.
‘You wanted a small place. Most of what we have at the moment are for executive rentals, but this one came on our books a couple of days before you walked in. It’s a two-bedroom flat on the top floor in quite a nice area. There’s communal parking and a security intercom system. I seem to remember you wanted somewhere with intercom that wasn’t on the ground floor.’
‘And you took me to view it?’
‘Yes, the place is empty at the moment, so we went straight there. You really liked it. It was only partially furnished and you wanted fully furnished, but the price is good because the owner wants it rented quick, and it’s in a great location. You said you didn’t expect to find somewhere so quickly, so you hadn’t brought any money with you for the first month’s rental. We also require a security deposit and some ID, you see, so you were going to come back with it all later that day, but you never did. I just assumed you’d had second thoughts or found somewhere else.’
‘You took her to view the flat in your car, or did you walk there?’ Jordan asks.
‘We went in my car. And then I dropped you back here. You said you were going to do some window shopping for some new things for the flat on your way home. You seemed really excited about it all; that’s why I was a little surprised when you didn’t come in again.’
‘Where did you see her last?’ Jordan asks.
‘We parked in the council car park behind, and you walked with me back here then said goodbye outside. I didn’t see where you went afterwards.’
My mind whirrs with questions she can’t answer. Which shops did I go in? Was I looking for furniture or knick-knacks? Did I talk to anyone? Encounter anyone strange on the way back to Sara’s?
‘What time was that?’ I ask.
‘Er…probably about five-ish.’
I stand up and give her a smile, but my facial muscles don’t seem to be connected to my brain anymore, and it quivers on my face. ‘Thanks. You’ve been very helpful.’
‘You’re welcome. It’s still available if you want it. Just let me know.’
We exit the estate agent, and I stand with my back to the doorway, scanning the shops up and down the street. I could’ve gone in any of them or none of them. I could’ve walked back to Sara’s with a happy smile on my face and a spring in my step. I could’ve gone to the moon for all I knew.
‘Your purse was still at Sara’s, wasn’t it?’ Jordan asks.
‘Yes.’
‘And you were intending to go back and get it then pay for the rental. That means it’s likely you never made it back there at all.’
‘So whatever happened next happened between here and Sara’s.’
My bones feel hollow, as if they won’t hold me up for much longer. My legs tremble.
‘I’m here, Chloe.’ Jordan grips my hand tighter, and I lean against him. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you.’
31
I’ve come this far, and it feels like I’m so close now to finding out what happened. I want to know the answer, but at the same time, I’m scared to death. Maybe there’s something in what Dr Drew said about the human brain blocking traumatic memories with amnesia. Some things are just too awful to remember. And if I know, if I really know what happened, then I’ll have to think about it. Relive it. See that horrific underground tomb. Feel the terror again first hand.
But I have no alternative. I can’t spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder all the time, wondering who might be coming to get me. No, I have to know.
‘You look really pale. Shall we find a café and have something to eat first before you keel over?’ Jordan says.
‘Yes. Maybe that’s a good idea.’
Jordan leads me down the street, his hand on my elbow, gently guiding me along through all the people. I wonder what their nightmares are. What’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to them all? What’s the most they can take before they crack and fall apart? I pick out the men in the crowd, scrutinizing their faces for something I recognize. Perhaps it was it one of them. The old man in the anorak. The skinny young guy with long hair and tatto
os up his arms. The geeky-looking guy with glasses. The man in a business suit chatting on his mobile phone. The man cycling in and out of cars with a fluorescent jacket on.
It could be anybody. When you start looking for it, everyone seems sinister or weird. He could be watching me right this second and I’d never know. How many men were there in the UK? Thirty million? More? How do you find one in thirty million? There could even be more than one of them. Two men working as a team. I vaguely remember reading about two male serial killers once who worked together. I can’t remember their names.
I’m barely breathing by the time we arrive at the café, and I grip Jordan’s arm tightly.
‘Here, you sit, and I’ll get you something to eat.’ Jordan points to an empty table on the little terrace in front of the building that overlooks the street. Two young women at the table next to me are chatting noisily about the latest celebrity gossip. A lone man on the other side is tucking into a toasted sandwich and typing away on his laptop. None of them looks at me as I sit down.
‘What would you like?’
I’m not hungry in the slightest. My tongue feels too big for my mouth. My teeth feel like they don’t belong in my jaw. I glance at what the man’s eating. ‘Something like that, maybe?’
‘OK. I’ll be back in a minute.’ He disappears into the shop and leaves me scanning faces in the crowd.
Ten minutes later, he returns with two golden-brown cheese toasties, a mug of tea, and a frothy cappuccino on a tray. ‘I forgot to ask if you wanted tea or coffee, so I got both.’
There it is again, the thoughtfulness that is just Jordan. Despite the worry and fear, a jolt of happiness spears my heart like an electric shock. I smile at him with appreciation.
‘Do you know what you would’ve been window-shopping for?’ Jordan sets everything on the table and puts the tray on the empty seat next to him.
‘I wouldn’t have wanted to take anything with me from home. I don’t want to be reminded of everything. Liam can have the lot.’ I think about the sparsely decorated flat in the photo. What would I need immediately, and what could wait? What would make me feel more comfortable in my new home? It had the basic kitchen supplies, but I could probably do with things like a decent potato peeler and knives. I wouldn’t have worried about pots and pans because a couple of each was listed on the details, and it would only be me now. ‘Maybe some kitchen utensils. A bit of furniture, too, probably. Just a bedside table and maybe a lamp. Nothing expensive or fussy.’ I glance up and down the street at the shops. ‘I like wooden stuff. You know, like your kitchen table. I love Sara’s furniture, too. I always wanted a lot of wood in the house, but Liam went for the modern, polished stuff—glass, chrome. Everything with no character.’