Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist.

by Lynda Renham

  ‘No, of course not, I’ll be home by six. I’ll get a Chinese if you like. Save you cooking.’

  I hug him gratefully.

  ‘That’d be great, Chris. I have my appraisal today.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I forgot. Good luck.’

  He kisses me softly and strokes my hair.

  ‘Don’t worry so much. You’ve got a nice friend in Sharni. How did it go yesterday? Sorry I didn’t ask when I got home. I was so knackered.’

  I smile.

  ‘It was good. She took some photos of Ben and … I’ll ask her not to publish them.’

  He looks startled.

  ‘Why would she publish them? We’re not famous or anything.’

  ‘I know,’ I say as I realise how stupid I sound.

  ‘See you later,’ he says, grabbing his holdall.

  ‘Chris, can you not give people my mobile number before asking me?’

  ‘I haven’t,’ he says defensively, looking for his car keys.

  ‘They’re on the table,’ I say. ‘You gave it to Sharni.’

  He grabs the keys.

  ‘I don’t think I did.’

  ‘The night we went round there.’

  He shakes his head.

  ‘We did drink a lot,’ I remind him.

  ‘Yeah, maybe I did it without thinking. Sorry. See you later.’

  I grab Ben and the playpen, and hurry up to the shower. I slam the door shut. I don’t hear the phone ringing.

  The ringing of the mobile made her jump.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I meant to turn it off.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Do you have children?’

  ‘You always ask that.’

  ‘Not always.’

  ‘Often.’

  ‘And you always say it’s not about you.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘I dreamt about it again last night.’

  Her eyes are clear. She expects them to fill with tears but they don’t. She’s all cried out, that’s why.

  ‘What happened in the dream?’

  ‘Everything was okay in the dream. The end was different. No one died.’

  ‘So, you didn’t really dream about ‘it’?’

  ‘That’s what you say,’ she whispers, fiddling with the tissue box. It’s pink this time. She preferred the flowery one. It was more cheering.

  ‘I won’t let anyone take what I believe away from me.’

  ‘How is it different to everyone else’s beliefs?’

  Everyone else is wrong, she thinks but doesn’t say.

  ‘I want to talk about my mother,’ she says instead.

  The therapist smiles, it’s what she wanted to hear.

  ‘Okay, why don’t you tell me about her?’

  Chapter Seven

  I open the door and hear the shrill ring of the telephone. I grab Ben and hurry downstairs with the towel wrapped around me.

  ‘Mrs Ryan?’

  I recognise the voice immediately. It’s Faye from the nursery.

  ‘Yes, hello Faye.’

  ‘I’m really sorry to tell you this but we’ve had to close the nursery today. There’s been a flood. Someone blocked the sink and left the tap running. I did try you earlier.’

  My heart misses a beat.

  ‘I was in the shower. I have an appraisal this morning.’

  My mobile trills and I grab it with the other hand. It’s the school.

  ‘Can you hold on one second Faye?’

  ‘Sorry to be a pain Clare,’ says the head. ‘Can you stay a bit longer today? I know it’s short notice but we’ve got two teachers off. I hope it’s not too inconvenient.’

  It couldn’t be more inconvenient.

  ‘Erm … yes that’s fine,’ I say without thinking.

  ‘Great. See you in a bit.’

  ‘What’s happening with the kids then?’ I ask Faye.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make other arrangements for today.’

  ‘But I don’t have anyone,’ I say, struggling to keep the panic from my voice.

  ‘I’m sorry, but there is nothing we can do.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I say.

  I replace the receiver.

  ‘Shit, shit, shit,’ I curse loudly. How can the bloody nursery be flooded?

  Ben looks up at me wide-eyed. I tap in Chris’s office number.

  ‘Chris, the nursery is closed, they’ve had a flood. Can you work from home today? I’ve got my appraisal and we’re short staffed.’

  ‘I’ve got meetings all day Clare; I can’t get out of them.’

  ‘I don’t know what to do,’ I sob.

  ‘Christ Clare. Have you tried Kathryn?’

  ‘She’s at college.’

  ‘Shit.’

  I feel tears prick at my eyelids.

  ‘What about Sharni? She said the other night that we could ask her any time. She seemed very keen to help out with Ben,’ he suggests.

  ‘We hardly know her,’ I say, surprised at the suggestion.

  ‘She’s not exactly going to kidnap him is she?’ he says irritably. ‘They’ve just moved in next door. Christ Clare, get a grip.’

  I take a deep breath. I suppose he’s right. Ben isn’t going to come to any harm in one day. I could ask her. I’ve got no one else.

  ‘If she can’t then I’ll have to take the day off and you realise if I do, I’ll lose my job. I had that time off when Ben wasn’t well and …’

  I’m accusing him but I’m not sure what of.

  ‘I can’t come home,’ he says firmly.

  ‘Okay I’ll ask Sharni,’ I say.

  I dress and prepare Ben and then peek out of the window to see there is one car in Sharni’s driveway. I wrap Ben in his jacket and grab all his nursery paraphernalia. I hesitate at her front door. I hardly know Sharni. How can I ask her to look after my child? I knock softly, in some vain hope that she won’t hear. I’m about to turn away when the door opens and she stands there in a blue dressing gown, her hair askew.

  ‘Clare,’ she says. ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ I say and find I am annoyingly tearful. ‘The nursery phoned and they’ve had to close for the day. I’ve got an appraisal at eleven and …’

  ‘You’ve got no one to have Ben,’ she finishes for me.

  ‘I’m so sorry to ask but …’

  ‘Of course I can have him,’ she says, taking the bags from my hand. ‘Come in, it’s freezing out here.’

  I’m pulled into her warm hallway and relieved of Ben. The hall smells of toast and fresh coffee. I remember my bowl of porridge, which I’d left on the coffee table, and sigh.

  ‘You look terrible, are you okay?’ asks Sharni.

  ‘I didn’t get much sleep last night. Are you sure about this, it’ll be a long day.’

  She doesn’t seem to be listening to me and is already cocooning Ben in the warmth of her arms. His little fingers grasp at her fluffy dressing gown.

  ‘We’ll be okay, won’t we Sweet Pea?’ she says to Ben who laughs in response. He seems to like the words Sweet Pea.

  ‘Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,’ she says unbuttoning his jacket.

  I pull a crumpled piece of paper from one of the bags. I don’t know why I still have it. It’s my list of things that Ben needs during the day. I just feel safer handing it over each time to the nursery staff. After all, you never know when they’ll have a new helper.

  ‘It’s all on here. His nap times and what time he has his lunch and …’

  ‘Great,’ she says, smiling. ‘We’ll be fine.’

  She whips the list out of my hand.

  ‘That bag has his training pants and …’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ she repeats, her voice firmer this time.

  I twiddle with my necklace nervously.

  ‘Are you sure?’ I ask hesitantly. ‘I can take him in with me.’

  ‘That won’t look very professional will it,’ she smiles and for a moment I feel reprimanded
.

  ‘No,’ I say.

  She looks at the clock in the hallway.

  ‘You’ll be late’

  I look longingly at Ben who is now playing with Sharni’s hair.

  ‘You can call my mobile as many times as you like,’ she says with an encouraging smile and I feel like a child myself.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, pulling up my collar. I turn to the door and then spin back round.

  ‘Sharni, the photos you took …’

  ‘I’ll print them today.’

  ‘You won’t publish them, you know, in a magazine or anything?’

  I blush as I realise how silly I sound.

  She laughs.

  ‘Don’t be daft. In this day and age, do you think I’m insane?’

  I let out a sigh of relief.

  ‘I’ll phone you later,’ I say, kissing Ben on the cheek. I’ve barely gone through the door when it is shut behind me. I climb into my car and am about to start the engine when her door opens and Sharni calls to me.

  ‘Do you have a spare key to your house?’

  ‘A key?’ I repeat stupidly.

  ‘Just in case, for toys and the stroller, so we can go for a walk.’

  Shit. I’d forgotten all about the stroller. I’m going to be really late at this rate. I yank the door key off my keyring and hand it to her.

  ‘The stroller is in the porch. His toys are in a box in the lounge. Oh, and his playpen is in the bedroom. I should have given you that. I’d better go.’

  ‘Have a good day.’

  I reverse the car and turn to wave but the door is already closed.

  Chapter Eight

  ‘We’ve been very happy with your performance this year Clare, aside from a few absences. I do, however, feel that sometimes you’re not always focused and that your mind is elsewhere and not on your job. Of course, I’m very aware you have a young child,’ says Geoff Markham, the head.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t realise. I’ll try to be aware of that,’ I say.

  I’m finding it hard to focus. I’d turned my phone on to silent just before entering the meeting. At that moment it had flashed up a message and Sharni’s name had popped on to the screen. One half of me tells myself if it was an emergency she would have phoned rather than send a text, but the other half can’t stop worrying about it.

  ‘I’ve been very happy,’ I say.

  Geoff looks at the form in front of him.

  ‘There was a large absence and a couple of short ones after that. Is that likely to happen again? I know your child was unwell.’

  ‘He had an allergy.’

  ‘How is he now?’

  ‘He’s very well, back to normal.’

  A sudden vision of Ben in an ambulance makes me break out in a cold sweat. Please God, let him be all right.

  ‘Great. It’s good you can do some extra teaching today. How would you feel about taking on more hours as a permanent arrangement?’

  I gape at him.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, taken aback. The last thing I’d been expecting was an offer of extra work.

  ‘If you could do Friday mornings too that would really help us and if you could possibly stay longer on your normal days that would be excellent.’

  The thought of the extra money almost has me agreeing right away.

  ‘I’ll have to talk to my husband, Chris.’

  ‘That’s fine. I really need someone next week so do let me know.’

  I nod.

  ‘Wonderful. We’re both happy then. Will we see you and your husband at the Christmas party?’

  My phone flashes again and my heart races.

  ‘Sorry,’ I say.

  ‘The Christmas party, I hope we’re going to see you there with your husband?’

  ‘Oh yes, we’re looking forward to it.’

  I must remember to tell Chris about the party.

  ‘Excellent.’

  I glance at the clock on the wall.

  ‘Almost time for lunch,’ he says, as though reading my mind.

  I scrape my chair back and grab my handbag.

  ‘Is there anything you want to discuss with me?’ he asks.

  ‘No, everything is fine. Thanks Geoff,’ I say before dashing into the corridor and tugging the phone from my bag. I click into Sharni’s message and realise I’m holding my breath.

  Is Ben allergic to anything?

  I feel myself sway. Oh God what’s happened?

  I blink to get the rest of the message in focus. My head thumps and I flop on to one of the chairs outside Geoff’s office.

  I thought I’d puree him some veg. I obviously don’t want to give him anything he shouldn’t have.

  I wipe the sweat from my forehead. Maybe Dr Rawlins is right. Perhaps I do need therapy. But surely after what I’ve been through it’s only natural to be protective. I fight the urge to take some diazepam although I’m sure just one at work wouldn’t hurt.

  ‘How did it go?’

  I turn to see Helen.

  ‘Blimey you look rough, was it that bad?’

  ‘I was up half the night with Ben,’ I smile. ‘Actually the meeting went better than I could have imagined.’

  ‘Let’s get out. I’m desperate for a smoke. Those little buggers have driven me insane this morning. Let’s get a pizza.’

  I tap a message to Sharni and follow Helen out into the cold.

  ‘Christ it’s bitter. I reckon we’ve got snow coming,’ she says lighting up a Benson and Hedges.

  I’ll phone Sharni when we get to Pizza Hut.

  *

  ‘She’s looking after Ben?’ questions Helen.

  I can’t tell if its surprise or alarm on her face.

  ‘I didn’t know what to do,’ I say feebly.

  ‘How can the sodding nursery have a flood?’ she scoffs.

  I pick at my salad.

  ‘I did ask Chris if he could work from home today.’

  ‘You’re not worrying are you?’ she asks.

  I raise my eyebrows.

  ‘You should get an award for worrying. She seemed great. I know what you mean though. You haven’t known her five minutes …’

  ‘I’ll give her a quick ring,’ I say as the waiter approaches with our pizza.

  Helen shrugs.

  Sharni answers on the first ring.

  ‘It’s my lunch break,’ I explain.

  ‘Ben’s absolutely fine. I’m giving him his pureed vegetables and then we’re going to have his sleep.’

  What I wouldn’t do for a sleep. The thought of keeping my eyes open all afternoon feels like an enormous feat.

  ‘You’ve had no problems?’

  Helen rolls her eyes and cuts into her pizza.

  ‘We’re fine.’

  I can hear the smile in Sharni’s voice.

  ‘All okay?’ Helen asks as I hang up.

  ‘She’s very confident. She makes me feel a bit, I don’t know …’

  ‘What does she do that she can be at home all day?’

  ‘She’s a professional photographer.’

  ‘You’re kidding. I’ll look her up on Facebook.’

  ‘Facebook?’ I repeat.

  Helen sighs.

  ‘Facebook, you know that thing that everyone’s on except you.’

  I think of the photos Sharni took of Ben. I never asked her not to put them on Facebook.

  ‘I am on Facebook,’ I say. ‘I just don’t use it.’

  ‘That’s the same as not being on it,’ she laughs and cuts into her garlic bread. ‘Does she work from home then?’

  ‘I’m not sure if it’s every day.’

  ‘We’ve got twenty minutes. No time for a pudding,’ Helen says as she checks her watch.

  I tuck into my pizza and realise I’m starving.

  ‘I lent Sharni a vase,’ I say casually. ‘On the day she moved in. That would be a week ago. Her mother sent her flowers apparently so I lent her my best vase, the one that Chris bought me on our honeymoon. The thing is, it’s a hand-painted origina
l. I don’t imagine we could replace it. She hasn’t given it back but she’s got flowers in other vases.’

  Helen shrugs.

  ‘Maybe she’s put it away and forgotten all about it.’

  ‘But you wouldn’t put away someone else’s vase would you?’

  ‘Why don’t you ask her for it?’

  ‘I feel awkward, even more so now she’s been kind enough to help out with Ben.’

  ‘That doesn’t mean you have to give her one of your vases,’ laughs Helen.

  ‘Maybe I’ll ask for it tonight,’ I say yawning.

  We pay for our pizza and look out of the window at the first flurry of snow. I find myself hoping Sharni doesn’t take Ben for a walk in this. He catches colds so easily.

  ‘You can tell it’s getting near Christmas,’ says Helen. ‘I can’t wait to go to Ikea. I’m going to buy loads of candles.’

  ‘It’s quite heavy,’ I say.

  ‘Let’s wait here for the bus,’ suggests Helen. ‘We can make a run for it as it turns the corner.’

  I huddle in my parka and push my hands into the pockets. Helen lights a cigarette and I wave the smoke away. As I do so, I spot two men and a blonde woman leaving the restaurant on the other side of the road.

  ‘Isn’t that Chris?’ says Helen.

  ‘Yes,’ I mumble.

  ‘Hey Chris,’ she yells but her voice is lost in the noise of the traffic.

  ‘Bugger, he didn’t hear me. Fancy that, you could have had lunch together.’

  I barely hear her. All I can think of is how the woman had leaned close to Chris before throwing her head back and laughing. I pull the bottle of diazepam from my bag and swallow two.

  ‘What are they?’ asks Helen.

  ‘Aspirin,’ I lie.

  ‘Here’s our bus, come on.’

  She grabs my arm and we hurry to the bus stop.

  Chapter Nine

  Chris frowned. He’d texted Clare four times now and still she hadn’t replied. He could see the texts had been delivered. He wondered if he should phone her. But she might be in the middle of a class. He wouldn’t want to bugger things up even more if her appraisal had gone badly, and if it had gone well he didn’t want to ruin it by disturbing her teaching. He checked his phone again and then thought of phoning Sharni. He doubted anything was wrong with Ben but he couldn’t think why else Clare wouldn’t respond to a text. Supposing Ben had been taken ill and she hadn’t had time to contact him? It seemed a bit unlikely. Surely she would ask Sharni to phone him. All the same … He scrolled through his phone and realised he didn’t have Sharni’s mobile number. Damn, he didn’t imagine their landline would be listed.