Vic shrugged, uncertain what to say, so the doctor continued.
“I know you do not know the answers, but these are things you need to think about. Today and tomorrow, only a small bit of what I need to do is to confirm this girl has lost her past and along with it her memories. I don’t need to see her to know that, it is abundantly clear from all I have been told. It fits as the only way for her to escape from an impossible situation, short of her own death. I think suicide must have come very close to her, feeling like a best friend she wanted to take control of her life, to let the pain end.
“Still I must make it appear to others, the lawyers, that my purpose is to assess her memory. I must go through the motions. But it is not my reason to see her, any half competent doctor or psychologist could do this part.
Vic asked, “Why then?”
“My first concern is to be gentle. She has suffered enough. Denying her past was her only way through the pain without destroying herself. Neither of us needs to be Einstein to know that.
“But the real question I put to you, the person who carries care for this damaged person the deepest, is: What should we do about it? Do we need to try and join the old and the new? Does she need to reconnect to her old self in order to live a full and happy life? Or is she better to be left to begin again, to have a new life with the old left behind, baggage of another person?
“That is the real question. That is the thing you need to think on before I meet with her. It will help shape what I do at the meeting and after.
“Do I try to find the pieces of her old life and help her mind to connect them to her new life, or do I help her to bury them in an unfindable place, where they can never bring back the pain?”
Now it was Vic’s turn for silence, such responsibility, such a fraught choice. He thought of the girl he now knew. She was utterly beautiful, bewitching, kind and good. Yet, without a past, she was an emotional child.
He loved that child. But when he remembered the adult he had known, just briefly before, he realized the loss, the incompleteness. It was like the colours she was unable to see, her life was missing dimensions of existence that others had. It felt safer to leave her this way but it was not enough.
And in his heart of hearts he knew it was not a safe place for her either. The bright smile that covered the sticky taped pieces, still broken though held together, was inherently unstable. Without making real new joins between the old and new persons there was no resilience, without finding the old the new could never be much more than a shell.
Yes he loved her and she loved him and it was good. But it was not near enough, much more was needed to make her complete. Ultimately his own completeness was inextricably linked to hers, so she needed her to re-know herself too in order to know him.
The “I don’t know you but I want you” song from “Once” was true but it sold them both short. He wanted more than that for them both.
As these thoughts swirled through his mind he remained silent, only half aware of the other’s intense eyes, watching him. Now he had it clear in his mind he could answer.
“You are right, I have thought it through and now I know. We must try and find a way to build a bridge between the old Susan and the new Jane. They are both wonderful people, but they both need to know and value the other to form one complete whole. So, frightened as I am by what this means, we must try to find a way to bring them back together, for the sake of many people who know and love her, but mostly for her own sake.”
Ross Sangster nodded. “I hoped that you would see that. My intuition told me the same. But, not knowing her, it is not something I could know with certainty. I feel much better if we are both agreed on that.
“My real responsibility is of course to her, she is my patient, assuming you and she agree. But I need your help and support. What we must try to do is part exorcism, part healing. It will be hard and painful for us all so I need your belief in this for when the dark days come.
“As we open the cracks to allow the healing to begin so too the pain will come back. It will be hard for her, but in many ways it will be harder for you, watching the bringing of pain to one you love.”
“Now you must tell me all you know of this person, both from before and after, but particularly from after. Even though neither of us can see them now, in the new person are clues to direct our way back to the old.”
The sun had fully set and the room was only lit by light coming in from the river by the time the talking was done. Vic returned to the hotel to find this woman, sitting on the floor with her children on her lap. It was beautiful and touching, a child with her children. He loved her with all he knew, but yet he knew he wanted all of the old to come back along with the new.
Chapter 21 – Memory Flashes
Ross Sangster brought two comfortable chairs into his examination room, separated by a low coffee table, in preparation for his early morning meeting before he and Vic parted last night. Then he set up the camera.
They decided, at the end of their meeting, to tell Jane that the reason for the visit was that Doctor Sangster was going to try and help her remember things from her past. If she agreed, he would begin with trying to help her remember more of her childhood before she came to Australia. Regardless of his agreement to do this assessment of her, he would only go beyond initial introductions if she agreed to this.
Vic had only told Jane thus far that he would like her to come to Brisbane with him and meet a doctor friend of his who had some ideas on how to help people get back their memory. He had said he hoped she would be happy to talk to this doctor.
She had answered that she would meet him though she did not feel she needed to remember her past now that she and Vic were fully together and happy. But she would do it for him if it pleased him.
So, this morning, he helped her feed and dress the children, then he said he would take the children for a walk in the park for an hour while she met the Doctor. After they would meet at a café for a delicious cooked breakfast, bacon and eggs for him, coffee and pastries for her and treats for the kids.
Vic and Jane were staying in a hotel just two blocks away so he and the children walked with her to the meeting place.
As they approached they saw Dr Sangster was waiting at the entrance to the office building where his rooms were. As they parted David and Anne smothered her in hugs before running off excitedly with Vic to play in the park alongside the river. She followed the doctor inside.
Ross Sangster had first thought of bringing in the receptionist early so that she could put a formal face on the process and operate the recording equipment. But, after meeting Vic yesterday, he decided it was better if it was only him there, he would have a meeting transcript from both the audio and video recordings. The machines were simple. He only had to turn them on before he started and they could operate in the background. He was not a techno whiz kid but it was simple stuff; press two “Power On” and “Record” buttons and let them run.
Now he looked at this lady carefully who stood before him. Her hair had auburn blond tresses but darker roots were beginning to show. She wore good quality clothes, but without any intrinsic sense of style or of how they worked to best effect. Her hair was loosely tied, but without obvious care. It seemed as if she looked at her image in the mirror without real recognition and with no sense of how to use her natural beauty to best advantage.
But what struck him most strongly was the almost childlike innocence in her face, open and trusting without the counter-play of those typical more complex emotions of an adult. She looked slightly nervous at the new and unfamiliar place but that was the only discernible emotion.
He brought her to the anteroom and began with his coffee and biscuits routine. He had stumbled on this as a great way to relax uncomfortable people and build first trust. It seemed to work now as her manner softened.
She really was quite lovely he thought as he watched her in the morning light, ethereal and vulnerable were first thoughts but, alongside, damaged.
&
nbsp; He explained to her what he wanted to do. “Vic has probably told you I am a doctor who tries to help people who can’t remember things properly.
“Vic is hoping I can help you remember things from when you were little, not bad stuff, but memories of growing up in England. He thought it would be nice if you could tell your children your own stories from these memories as they grow up, as it will help them to them to know about their mother.
“So I thought the way to start is to sit and chat for half an hour in the other room. You can tell me whether you want to do this or not. If you don’t that is fine, but I promised Vic I would meet with you and talk about it.”
She nodded at him thoughtfully, her face looking unconvinced.
Coffee finished, he brought her to the examination room and showed her to a chair, saying, “I use a camera and microphone to record my meetings so I can remember what happened later. Do you mind if I turn them on now.”
She replied in a small voice, “Yes that is OK”
After he turned on both recording machines he sat down opposite her. He expected that it would be up to him to open up the conversation but instead it was her who began.
“Doctor Sangster, I know this is important for others, so I am doing it for them. But, you see, even though it seems important for these people to know about me from before it is not important to me. I know I was someone else once, but I am not that person anymore. I don’t need to know that person anymore to live a good and happy life now.
“For a little while, when I first met Vic and I wanted to know how to behave as a woman with him, it seemed important. But now I understand about that part, what a man and woman should do together when they are married. So it is not important anymore. All the other things I need to know for my life now I can learn through watching TV or reading books. These things slowly fill my mind with new memories and make me happy.
“So it may be important to others for me to remember from before but it is not important to me. I am happy to talk to you but I don’t feel broken and needing fixing. If it makes Vic happy, I will try to find memories from when I was little, but it is only to please him.”
Ross Sangster nodded and said, “OK, let us just talk about what it is you do remember. Why don’t you tell me about when you met Vic, what you remember from then. Tell me the story about you and your children, how you met Vic, what made you decide to come away with him.”
She recounted the story of the meeting of the helicopter pilot, her son’s instant trust in him, how she wanted to sing for him in the church. It was a simple story, simply told, with a gentle loveliness, but an unreal feel. It felt like a story from a picture book, bright light but without complex emotion.
Then Ross said, “What can you tell me about coming and living in that place before you met Vic?’
She described finding herself standing by the side of a road, with the bag with her name on it and nothing else and how the aboriginal ladies had given her a lift into the town and she had gone and asked the lady in the shop for a job. Then she told how she had lived and worked there and her babies had been born and soon she started to become friends with the people of the town, particularly the pastor and his wife.
He asked her if she had remembered anything about her life before that day standing by the road.
She said, “No, I thought I must have banged my head and got amnesia and the memories would soon return. But they never did.”
He asked her if it worried her.
She said, “No, it is just the way it was. My life was good with my children. The only time I wanted to know more about before was when I wondered about things like how soon my children would walk. Then I thought it would be nice to ask my mother but instead I had asked the Pastors wife, my friend, Ruth. She answered my questions instead.”
Again he found these simple and unemotional descriptions clear but they were unsatisfying, as if she accepted she would never know about another life and felt no desire to look further. It was a tale without colour.
He asked her about the things she did know, like how to do the accounts at the shop, whether it seemed strange that she knew this but had no idea of how she learnt these things. Again she said it was just how it was.
He asked her how she felt when Vic came back and asked her to come away with him. For the first time he felt there was some real emotion, she told how Vic arrived in the middle of the night, that she had been so happy to see him and trusted him. She told of how they had shared the bed that night, him just holding her, and as she lay in the circle of his arms she dreamt again a dream she had had before. It was a dream of an unknown man that she needed to know. This night she had realized that this unknown man was really Vic and it had made her feel very happy. So she had trusted Vic and come with him, happy to be with him and share her children with him too. The time since had been wonderful, even better than she could have ever imagined. The only strange part was, at first, not remembering how a woman should be with a man.
Right from the start she had known, though she did not have the right words, that she loved him and he loved her. Then, once she realized that people like them got married she wanted to marry him and when she said it to him he told her he wanted to be married to her too. So she became his lover as well as his friend and that was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.
Now her emotion was real and vibrant though the rest of the story remained without colour. But, as she told it, he was filled with a sense of her simple goodness and joy. For the first time he had real doubt as to whether he should help her to remember her life from before.
He asked her about the visit to meet her parents. Again she recounted the tale in the simplest fashion, her happiness at meeting them, along with her friend Anne, and knowing, even without remembering, who they were. She told of the tiny memories she now had of parts of her childhood with her parents, mainly of her brother and Anne, just a fragment here and there. It seemed to be enough for her, a connection to a distant past.
It seemed to Ross that, for all the intervening years, her memories had ceased to be important. Instead she was fully happy to have this huge empty space in her life.
He asked her what she most wanted to do with her life from here. Without a moment’s hesitation she answered, “I want to get married to the man I love. That is what I spend most of my time thinking about when I am not busy. Now he has agreed I just want it to happen.” She spoke with a dreamy and beatific smile that melted him.
There was no sign of pain at memories repressed; it felt like a part of her life had been washed clean, as if it had never been. Part of him thought he should just leave it there, dig no further.
But a sense of huge unreality gripped him. She said it was enough, she acted like it was enough, she was clearly happy now. But her emotions, as she talked of her life now, were like the emotions of a child, joy and sorrow, happiness and sadness, but all the complexity was missing.
He asked himself, in his mind, Where have all the shadows gone?
Where are the mixed emotions of love and hate, the envy, jealousy, the anger, the disappointments –the things that make a real human being real.
She said she did not want them, she said she did not miss them, but without them he felt only half a person was sitting in front of him. He asked himself did he have the right to try and open cracks between the old and new if she said she was happy to only have the new. His ethics said he must not. Yet his deepest self, the part of intuition, told him he must.
So he decided to explore the edges of the memories from before they vanished. Those early childhood memories seemed like a safe starting place. He would take her back to them; see if he could get her to step forward, even a tiny bit, to find more of her childhood and life as a teenager in England.
So he asked her to tell him the last thing she could remember from when she was a little girl. It was her first year in High School, when she had met Anne and the two of them had become friends. She said she could only rememb
er the day she first met Anne, two gawky twelve year olds in their first week at High School. They had desks side by side and used to talk when the teacher was not looking. He asked her to try and put herself back into that place now and remember the school holidays she had before that year, to remember where she had been and what she had done.
He watched as her mind drifted into this space, little flashes of light came into her eyes as memories came. Then she began to speak.
“I do remember those school holidays. They were summer holidays. We went to a farm up in Scotland. It was the farm where my Dad had grown up, in a valley between big green hills. His parents lived in one house. His sister, who was married too, lived in another house nearby. Her husband did farm work. My Dad loved to help and I did too. So he would bring me out on the farm with him. My brother Tim did not like farm work much. He had a cousin his age and the two of them would spend hours playing together. There was another cousin, but she was younger than Tim. I felt too grown up to play with her. I liked her and talked to her but I did not play with her much.
“I also remember my Aunt Em, my Dad’s youngest sister. She still lived at home with her parents, she had just finished school. She was the baby of the family, that’s what Dad used to call her. I was twelve and she was eighteen. She was to go off to University after summer. She was really pretty and a bit wild. I would sit with her and talk for hours about boys and going out and things like that. I can’t really remember exactly what we talked about but I just remember how much I liked being with her. She was so excited to be going off to a big city to live and study. It all sounded so exciting to me too. She would talk to me like I was as grown up as she was.
“And I remember how she, me and my Dad would sometimes talk, all sitting around the fire in the evening. Em and my Dad both loved animals, particularly the big wild animals in other countries, the lions and tigers, the elephants and giraffes, the monkeys, chimpanzees and gorillas.
“We all wanted to go to Africa and see them, the lions, leopards and cheetahs hunting in the national parks. I don’t know if we ever did, but we dreamt and talked so much about it, being camped by a waterhole and watching all the animals coming in to drink and how a lion pack would try and ambush them, while we watched from a hidden hide.”
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