Before We Met: What Happens When You Fall For The Same Man Twice But Don't Even Know It

by Madeleine Cardell

  Vera laughed too. Suzy was right. The situation was kind of ridiculous.

  ‘I’ll be in touch soon,’ she said, opening the door. ‘Ta-ra.’

  And she was gone.

  CHAPTER 14

  “‘So, I was thinking …’ There was a slight hesitation in Meredith’s voice before she continued, ‘… that I’d like to get involved with the re-designing of the garden.’

  She was standing in front of an enormous wardrobe wearing sheer black lingerie and mauve-colored suspenders. With her hands on her waist she stared at the clothes, trying to decide what to wear.

  When Arnaud came out of the en suite bathroom and saw her standing on the other side of the room, he was instantly aroused by her stunning figure. So he walked behind her, moved her hands away from her tiny waistline, and placed his hands there instead. Meredith smiled.

  ‘You can’t seem to get enough of me today.’ She turned around to look at him.

  ‘How can any man ever have enough of you, Cherie?’ He pulled her close and she buried her face in his chest. ‘You’re irresistible,’ he said, as his hands travelled from her waist to her bottom. He moved his lips towards her neck and kissed it slowly, working his way up towards her ear.

  Meredith closed her eyes. He knew that she liked to be kissed very slowly, and that she liked it when he nibbled on her skin.

  ‘Arnaud, what about the garden…?’ she whispered. But instead of giving her an answer, he pressed his lips to hers and parted them with his tongue. Despite being almost twice her age he kissed with the intensity of a teenager, and she now felt his manhood against her.

  ‘Do whatever you want with it,’ he whispered. ‘Whatever you want ...’

  ‘I’ll make you proud…’ Meredith started, but then, as he pinned her against the wall and their bodies pressed against each other and started moving rhythmically together, she had no choice but to surrender to him.”

  Vera put the draft down. She was sitting in her hospital bed, blushing. The story was so interesting, she could barely stop reading, and suddenly she understood why Suzy had read it in one night. Even she could hardly wait to see what happened next. She flipped on a few pages to see into the next chapters, but stopped herself, thinking that she really needed to read the whole thing, not just parts of it. It was hard for her to believe she was the author of this book - this book! What could have been her inspiration? she wondered. Was there a chance she had ever been in Meredith’s position? Was it at all possible that she could have had an affair with someone like Arnaud? And if so, who was this man? Where is he? And would she ever be able to find out what had happened to their romance? But as she picked up the papers to carry on reading, she realized that there was someone she could ask about these things: she could ask Shane - he’d definitely know. They were best friends apparently, so she would no doubt have shared the details of her love life with him. That put a smile on her face, and with that thought in mind, she carried on reading.

  Later on in the afternoon Vera was visited by Doctor Skelker. As soon as the doctor entered her room, Vera sensed from the expression on her face that she was here to say something unpleasant, or pass on some bad news.

  ‘Vera,’ started the doctor, approaching the bed, ‘it’s been a few days since your accident. Have you been able to retrieve any more memories?’

  ‘No,’ answered Vera, ‘unfortunately not.’ She looked down at her hospital blanket; it was a reminder that despite the excitement of the book, all was not okay.

  ‘Your tests have come back today,’ the doctor continued, ‘and additionally, from my observations, I can only conclude that you are … suffering from retrograde amnesia.’

  Silence filled the room. There was no longer hope that this loss of memory could be down to some sort of shock that Vera could shake off tomorrow. The truth was dawning on her now: there was a strong possibility that she would never remember a big part of her life. Tears suddenly rolled down her cheeks as she turned her head towards the window, away from the doctor.

  ‘How likely is it, then, that I’ll never regain these memories?’ she asked.

  ‘Vera, as we said before, this varies for every patient. Today you might not remember anything, but it’s likely that one day, due to an external factor, you’ll recall everything, or that someone or something will trigger your memory. But I can’t give you a timescale. The human brain is a mystery,’ she said, ‘and amnesia is one of the greatest mysteries of the medical world.’

  ‘What’s next then?’ she asked quietly, still looking away.

  ‘The answer to it lies within you,’ said the doctor. ‘You can spend the next few weeks, months, or even years trying to recall the past … and completely dismiss the present in the meantime. Or …’ she paused, ‘you can live your life to the fullest with the memories that you have and the people who you have around you today, not wondering too much about the past, and not letting that get you down, and maybe one day you can put various pieces of your life back together. Before then, the best thing you can do is to accept your situation and make the best out of it.’

  Vera wiped her eyes and looked at the doctor again.

  ‘I also have better news,’ smiled doctor Skelker. ‘Physically you seem much better now, so in a couple of days you can be discharged. I’m sure you want to go back home?’ she asked.

  But as if she hadn’t heard her, yet again Vera turned her head the other way to stare out of the window, like there was no one present in the room.

  CHAPTER 15

  As predicted, a large number of publishers were interested in Vera’s book, and Suzy’s job was to find the one who would offer the best deal. As an experienced agent, she drove a hard bargain, underlying the best aspects of the book and its author, and reminding everyone that publishing it meant only one thing: earning a lot of money. In the early afternoon, just when she was about to leave the office for lunch, she received a call from Ed at UltraBook, an old colleague of hers.

  ‘Suz, I’ve just read A Fair Affair,’ Ed proceeded, without pleasantries. ‘Is it still up for grabs?’

  Immediately, Suzy, who was halfway out of the office, went back to her desk, sat down, took a deep breath and said, ‘God Ed, long time no speak. Yes, it is! It’s waiting for the right person.’

  ‘Excellent!’ said Ed. ‘Suz, I want it taken off the market, so there’s no auction or anything. I want it! Name a price and I will pay it!’

  At around the same time in north London, Vera was discharged from the Royal Free Hospital. Prior to that, in the early morning, she and Doctor Skelker had talked about available therapy - namely support groups - for people in her condition. Apart from joining a support group, there didn’t t seem to be anything more that could be done. Her parents were at the hospital too, talking to the doctors and nurse Janine, and thanking everybody who had looked after their daughter for the past few days. Then, just after midday, when there was no one else to thank and nothing else to discuss, Vera, accompanied by her parents, walked back down the long corridor and headed for the main exit. And than, for the first time since the accident and her memory loss, she found herself outside.

  On the way home in her parents’ car, she observed the streets and realized that Hampstead was a very beautiful and leafy neighborhood. Nurse Janine told her that many famous actors and musicians lived here, and now she was starting to understand why. The houses were huge, with big gardens and tiled front patios. They were very well looked after; she’d seen many gardeners trimming the hedges. Expensive cars were parked outside many homes. The design of some cars seemed odd, though, but then Vera only remembered the models from the mid-nineties. As for people, she noticed that they were dressed very differently to when she last remembered. Women wore oversized tops paired up with very tight jeans, sunglasses big enough to cover most of their faces, and large bags resembling hand luggage - despite the fact that they were only strolling down the road. Everyone’s trousers, including men, seemed too short, as they ended before the ankle. Many
people wore training shoes traditionally associated with professional sports, like basketball or skating. It was indeed all very interesting to look at.

  The journey from the hospital wasn’t very long, and as Stanley was about to turn into Lymington Road, Vera decided to get out and walk. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining in a cloudless, late September sky. Patricia and Stanley stayed in the car, and when Vera appeared after her little stroll, the three of them walked into the property numbered 57. As they found themselves on black and white tiles leading to the entrance, Vera admired the yellow roses that grew outside, and then walked into a glass foyer leading to the main doors. Patricia turned the key in the door and they entered the corridor. Vera’s apartment was on the second floor. It was an apartment comprising an open plan living room and kitchen, and an upstairs bedroom. As they reached the top floor, Patricia offered Vera the keys.

  ‘No mum, you do that,’ she said. And then, after the door opened, she stepped into ‘her’ flat, full of anticipation.

  An instant smell of fruity air freshener hit her nostrils. Her mother had made sure the apartment was spotless prior to her arrival. On first impressions, the décor seemed very modern. The kitchen and living room were one combined open space, and from where she stood - she was looking at the kitchen – she could see a long row of cupboards with glossy grey doors and chrome handles. There was a professional looking coffee machine incorporated within the fridge doors, and a storage area on the side with extra tall glass wall units and wine racks. The dining area had a transparent dining table and an equally transparent set of chairs - that Vera straight away regarded as possibly not safe to sit on. When she walked over to the living area, she saw a fabric sofa with hard wood feet and patterned cushions. In front of it there was a small pine coffee table with an orchid plant, incense burner, and a bowl of sweets. In the corner of the room was a desk, the only piece of furniture that seemed oddly messy in comparison with the rest of the spotless place.

  As Vera approached the desk, Patricia said, ‘I haven’t touched anything there, sweetheart. It’s your working space, and I just left it as it was.’ She walked back into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

  ‘So was the rest of the apartment as messy as this desk?’ Vera asked, as she continued looking around. She suddenly felt excited that she lived here.

  ‘You can say that again!’ laughed Stanley.

  ‘Don’t listen to Dad, he’s exaggerating! It doesn’t matter anyway. I just gave it a once-over, that’s all,’ said Patricia.

  ‘Mum,’ said Vera, ‘if this place was anything like my room at home, it took at least three “once-overs”!’

  Vera looked at her dad, and for the first time in a few days she found herself laughing. Then she headed upstairs. As she walked into the bedroom, Vera’s excitement went off the scale when she saw a wardrobe with sliding doors - something she’d always wanted to own. She suddenly remembered cutting out a picture of such a wardrobe from a magazine when she was a teenager. She couldn’t help but think that this wardrobe was almost identical. The door had been made from large panels of a shiny material, and incorporated a large mirror on one side which was surrounded with a wood grain effect. Her bed frame, her dresser and the chest of drawers had the same modern look. There was a large cow hide on the floor, and her bed linen was covered with a luxurious silky cover. Vera thought that everything looked so incredibly stylish that it could easily be featured in an interior design magazine.

  After some more time spent upstairs, opening various compartments of the wardrobe and drawers, Vera was ecstatic to find that she owned a couple of pairs of designer sunglasses, a mini collection of Marc Jacobs wallets, and that she had kept her old diaries. But nothing could prepare her for the discovery of a quilted Chanel bag, or give her more pleasure than touching it’s calf leather, the gold brass logo and the matching chain. When she was ready to let it out of her hands, she carefully put it back in the dust bag and returned downstairs with her cheeks burning.

  Her mum and dad were drinking their favorite – a milky cup of tea. Her phone rang and Vera looked at the handset lying on the dining table; it was Suzy.

  ‘We’re meeting Ed from UltraBook tomorrow in his office in central London,’ she exclaimed into the handset. ‘You somehow need to sneak out of hospital.’

  ‘Hi Suzy,’ Vera replied, laughing, as Suzy, obviously tremendously excited, launched straight into her news in her rather forthright manner.

  ‘I don’t have to,’ Vera said calmly. ‘I was discharged this morning. I’m home.’

  CHAPTER 16

  On the way to the publishing house, the rain was so heavy that the wipers in Stanley’s car were barely able to keep up; with Vera’s lack of knowledge now, of London’s transport system, her father had offered to drive her to central London.

  For most of the morning, Vera had been on the phone to Suzy, discussing the latest details and possibilities of various outcomes the meeting could deliver. Although the publishing agent had already told her that he wanted the book off the market, didn’t want anyone else to bid for it, and that the deal was definitely on the cards, she wanted to make sure that no area of negotiations was left uncovered, and prepare Vera for every eventuality she could think of. As they arrived in central London, Vera got out of Stanley’s car, and made her way through the downpour into a mansion-style building off Tottenham Court Road. Suzy was already waiting for her, so together they headed for the main desk in the foyer.

  ‘Good morning, how can I help?’ asked the friendly girl manning the desk when they approached.

  ‘We’re here to see Mr. Ed Flanagan from UltraBook.’ Suzy pushed her black locks behind her ears and glanced at Vera. Only then did she realize how nervous Vera was.

  ‘Of course, may I ask your names?’ she said, as she handed them their visitor badges.

  ‘Suzanne Reynolds of Remington literary agency, and Miss Vera Smith, my client.’

  Suzy smiled at Vera and said, ‘Don’t worry.’ She nudged her with an elbow. ‘Everything’s going to be just fine. You’re not alone, you’ve got me, remember?’

  Vera was nervous at what the day would bring, but above all she felt an unexplainable sadness. She couldn’t remember how her book had come about, or the inspiration behind it, so she felt oddly detached from the whole event. But before she had the time to dwell on it some more, Suzy edged her forwards towards the elevator. She then pressed the ‘Floor 3’ button, and on arrival the door opened to reveal another foyer. Before Suzy had even managed to say one word to the girl behind this desk, a man with longish dark blonde hair, and a short beard, wearing a tight fitting suit and a pink shirt, emerged from a corridor.

  ‘Morning Suz! Good to see ya, darling!’ He then pecked her on both cheeks. ‘So this must be Miss Smith,’ he said, turning to Vera. ‘It’s great to finally meet the author of A Fair Affair.’ He smiled and shook her hand.

  After eventually freeing her hand from his, Vera said, ‘Please, call me Vera.’

  Than, the three of them proceeded down the corridor to a conference room. When they walked in, the place was freezing – the air conditioning was on full-blast. There were two lawyers sitting at the long table, both drinking coffee and both looking through their respective documents. One of them was a guy called Barry; Suzy had arranged for Barry, an agency solicitor, to oversee the deal on Vera’s behalf.

  During the next half an hour Vera, Suzy and the lawyers read through every document that was passed down to them from Ed, and after agreeing the last details, they were ready to proceed. It was all done and dusted within an hour. And as they left the building, Suzy stopped outside, and in a dramatic gesture, she threw herself at Vera.

  ‘Congratulations, darling!’ she said, hugging her. ‘Didn’t I tell you the book was pure gold? You’re a millionaire!’ she exclaimed. ‘Of course, when you take into account my cut, the sum goes back to six figures ...’ she added. ‘But that’s still amazing, isn’t it, Vera?’ she asked.

&nb
sp; But Vera seemed miles away.

  ‘Vera, are you okay?’ asked Suzy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ answered Vera. ‘I’m fine. But I need to go for a walk, take it all in. All of this is seriously overwhelming.’

  ‘Of course,’ Suzy nodded. ‘Do you want me to wait for you?’

  ‘No.’ Vera shook her head. ‘I think it’s best if I say goodbye for now. I’ll call you tomorrow.’ And not waiting for Suzy’s response, she walked away, determined to find her own way home.

  As she walked down a busy Tottenham Court Road, she only had one thought: she had to solve an inner dilemma that she was facing. The situation was as such: she had fulfilled her childhood dream and in quite spectacular manner - she was soon going to be a published author - yet instead of celebrating, she was here, walking alone in one of the busiest streets in London. Her life had been transformed at the stroke of one signature, yet she didn’t seem happy at all. Apart from Suzy, none of the people she encountered today knew that she didn’t really know who she was. She stood at the point in her life where something great was about to happen, yet she had a weird feeling of not deserving any of this, and couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a fraud - because she wasn’t the same person who had written that book, and wished that the other Vera - the one from before the accident - was here to enjoy this moment.

  But just as she was about to feel even more sorry for herself, she remembered the words of Doctor Skelker, and she knew she now had two choices; to give in to the feelings of unworthiness and continue to mope around, dragging everyone else to her level, or to believe in the possibility that, someday, somehow, she’d remember everything she was missing today. But if only she could find it in herself to feel that joy, that sense of accomplishment that was absent, right now.

  Suddenly Vera knew exactly what she should do. She was not going to be defeated. There was more to her than a seventeen-year-old girl going on thirty-one-year-old woman. And her change of heart about her attitude fuelled her desire to concentrate on the future and see what the next weeks and months would bring. But then the familiar sound of the phone going off in her bag interrupted her thoughts. It was Shane.