I was confused. Why did this complete stranger make such a pronouncement about my life? What did he know about me?
“Am I?”
He must have heard the sharp tone in my voice.
“If you don’t want her to visit we can ask her not to.”
“No,” I said, beginning to panic. “I wasn’t talking about Grace, I assumed you weren’t either.”
I tried to clarify things; I didn’t want them to send her away. They could do anything but that.
He gave a short laugh. “No, I wasn’t. I was talking about your injuries. But I think you’re over the worst, so we’ll transfer you to another ward in the morning. I’ll come and see you once you are settled and we’ll talk more about them then. But for now just sleep, it’s the best thing you can do.”
With that he turned away and began to speak to the nurse hovering in the background. I hadn’t even been aware of her. They spoke very quietly and it was difficult to catch any of the words.
I must have gone back to sleep, because the next thing I remember was waking up and feeling the sensation of movement. When I opened my eyes I saw the ceiling above me. I was being pushed along a passageway and although the lights were on, it was clearly daytime. As we turned a corner, a voice from behind me must have realised I was awake.
“Nearly there mate, another corner and we’ll be in ward 5b.”
I remembered what I’d been told, about being transferred and tried to work up some enthusiasm.
Daylight streamed through the windows of ward 5b and there was plenty of activity going on. As the porter and a nurse lifted me into my bed, I could smell food and my stomach began to noisily remind me of its existence.
“I’m so thirsty...” I croaked.
The nurse smiled. “You can have some tea, but you’ll have to sit up a bit first. Let’s get you into a better position.”
She helped me move and put a pillow behind me. The effort required for such a small change in position was extraordinary and wasn’t helped by the strange frame encasing my left arm. The tea though, was worth waiting for.
I sat and watched the morning routine unfold. In the time I was to spend there, it was one I would become very familiar with and it always interested me. That first morning the hours passed in a not unpleasant stupor; another cup of tea, later a bowl of soup. There was much anxious waiting for me to vomit, followed by genuine pleasure when I did not. Then Grace arrived. I saw her first. My bed gave me a good view of the ward entrance and of course she didn’t know where I was.
She was shy when she realised I was awake, but I must have smiled. I certainly felt like smiling when I saw her. Anyway, she smiled back and walked towards me with a little more confidence.
“I didn’t know they were moving you. I didn’t bring anything.”
She spoke hurriedly, obviously uncomfortable at being empty handed. I looked around and saw that other visitors were arriving with bags, or flowers.
“It doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you came.” I told her.
And I was; she’d brought the sun with her.
She looked behind her and saw the chair, but seemed to be undecided about whether to sit on it or not.
“It’s funny, visiting a complete stranger in hospital.” she said, a little breathlessly. “One that saved my life though, which I suppose makes it different.”
With that she sat down and we looked at each other a little awkwardly for a while, until I broke the silence.
“Is that why I’m here, because I saved your life?”
She smiled self-consciously before answering.
“Yes, not much of a reward really, is it?”
That made us both laugh and I asked her to tell me what happened.
“You can’t remember?” she asked, apparently stunned by this piece of information.
“No, not a thing apart from you.” I said, realising for the first time that this was true.
“Well that’s the really odd thing Jack. You called my name. You seemed to know me, but I don’t know you and yet...”
She leaned forward and stared at me intently, as though she was trying to recognise or remember something about me.
“Maybe I’m just not that memorable?” I suggested.
She laughed and looked embarrassed for a moment, a slight flush colouring her tawny skin.
“You know my name is Jack.” I said, with some feeling.
It felt comfortable and I was prepared to believe that it was my mine.
“Well yes, but only because I asked you while we were waiting for the ambulance.” she said. “I also asked you how old you were. I was trying to keep you from passing out, but I failed.” she finished miserably, looking away.
“You didn’t fail. How old am I?”
I asked because I was curious. At that moment, I felt ancient.
“You said twenty-seven.”
There was a distinct sound of relief in my voice. “Ah well, not so ancient then.”
“No, not at all.”
She was laughing again, but she looked worried.
“Tell me what happened...”
I asked again because I really wanted to know, but I also wanted to distract her from the thoughts that made her lovely eyes look so sad.
I learnt that it was Wednesday 10th May 2000. She even had to tell me that. The accident had been on the previous Friday. I’d lost almost five days of my life in that room with the strange green lighting.
“Does that help you remember anything?” she asked, her soft voice breaking into my thoughts.
“No, not really.” I replied.
“The waitress in the cafe across the street said you’d been in there all afternoon, right up until you ran out to save me. Can you remember that?”
“No, but that does explain why I’m so hungry, if my last meal was almost a week ago.”
“Don’t be silly Jack. Think.” she said, admonishing me sternly and I had to smile at her intensity.
To make her happy I applied myself to the task she had given me.
“There’s you and the figure of an old man in my mind. I’m sorry, it’s all so vague.” I said, causing her to look sad again.
“Maybe that’s it!” she suddenly exclaimed.
I turned to look at her.
“I work in an old people’s home.” she explained.
I said nothing; I wasn’t following her train of thought.
“Don’t you see? If you have the idea of an old man and me in your mind, perhaps we met when you came to visit a relative, although I’m sure I would have remembered you. Maybe it was only in passing.”
I nodded, it seemed plausible.
We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. Then she hit on another idea.
“Wait a minute, maybe you have a driving licence or something in your wallet. Have you checked?”
I shook my head.
“May I?” she asked, only opening the drawer beside me when I told her to go ahead.
“You have a wallet and a watch in here.”
She pulled out the wallet and opened the flap.
“There’s something in here. Oh...”
“What?” I asked, hearing the disappointment in her voice.
“There are no cards or anything, just a receipt. Here...”
I took the piece of paper from her and stared at it.
“It must be because I’ve paid for my operation.” I said slowly.
“Don’t be silly, you don’t pay for your treatment and even if you did, they would wait until you were awake. Here, let me see.”
She scanned the paper quickly, then looked up in surprise.
“You had more than four thousand pounds in cash on you. That’s the hospital receipt so you can claim it back.”
I looked at her blankly; it meant nothing to me.
“That’s a lot of money to have in your wallet.” she said thoughtfully, “And this divers watch must have set you back a packet.”
“So, I’m not ancient
and I’m not poor. It could be worse...” I said, making her smile.
I looked up and saw the doctor standing at the end of the bed. Neither of us had heard him approach.
“I should go...” Grace said, making that sort of half movement people do when they try to stand up, but are not sure if they should or not.
“No, please don’t go.” I blurted out.
I spoke too quickly and she looked startled. I had no idea why she was the only anchor I had in my life, or the only thing I felt in anyway sure about and I wasn’t ready to be left alone in my non-life with my dim-witted brain; not just yet anyway.
She nodded and sat back in the chair, seeming to understand, without me having to explain.
The doctor was charming, full of soothing words.
“All quite normal.” he assured us. “The brain is a very complex organ. A knock like the one you suffered takes time to get over. Don’t worry, it will all come back.”
My arm however, seemed to give him more concern. Apparently I’d broken it in four places. He waffled on for a little while longer, but not much of what he said seemed that important. I discovered that I’d be there for at least a few more days, which made me feel a little better; there would be time for my mind to sort itself out. He told us that he’d ask a colleague to stop by the next day, but I wasn’t really sure why. The best piece of information, as far as I was concerned, was that in a few hours I could try eating something light.
Just before he left he turned to Grace.
“You can help him remember by talking about your usual life together, little things often help bring it all back. Get some of his other friends to stop by as well and family too of course.”
He didn’t stay long enough to see her face fall.
“Jack, how can I do that? I don’t know what your normal life is like and I don’t know any of the people in it.”
It took me a while to lift her spirits again, but after she’d left, I was confident that she was not trying to take responsibility for something that was not hers to take. Later, as I was drifting off to sleep, I mulled over the fact that despite everything I felt optimistic. I could identify the feeling quite clearly, but not the reasons for it. I smiled, sure that in some way the feeling was connected to her.
The following day a police officer arrived on the ward. The Sister introduced him to me and asked me if I was willing to make a statement. I wasn’t able to give much information about the accident, but he explained that if I was willing to provide a current photograph, a blood sample and have my fingerprints taken, they would run some checks to see if they could help with discovering my identity. Of course I was willing. As far as I knew, I had nothing to hide.
After lunch I met Dr Green. She had a further battery of tests and scans done and told me I had another appointment in her office the following day at ten, where we would see if we could reboot my mind or not. She was very efficient and kind and the time passed very quickly, although from my point of view, nothing was really achieved by it, so I had little hope that the appointment the following day would bring happier results.
Grace arrived later in the afternoon with so many bags, I thought she was moving into the bed next door.
“Well, you don’t know what you like, so how am I supposed to? I brought lots of different things; that way maybe you can remember something about yourself.” she explained as she unpacked.
There were books, magazines and a variety of edible things, which immediately caught my attention.
“I think I like food,” I said, tearing open a packet of biscuits and enjoying the crunchy sweetness of them. “Mmm, I like these very much!”
“Good. That’s a start I suppose. Here.” she said, passing a bag over to me, one that was softer than the others. I opened it and stared inside.
“Clothes?”
“Well yes. That hospital gown, well it isn’t really you, so I got you a couple of pairs of pyjamas, some flip-flops, shaving stuff, soap and there’s a comb; you’ll need that when your hair grows back. I had to guess your sizes, I hope they all fit.” she said, looking embarrassed again.
“Hmm, shaving stuff. You don’t like the beard then?” I said, looking at her sideways.
The next few days had a nice routine to them. I woke, was allowed to wash and shave myself and then breakfast, of which there was never enough. I wasn’t allowed to shower until the stitches in my head were out and my arm was given the all clear, but that was ok. After breakfast I spent a couple of hours reading the books that Grace replenished every afternoon when she came to visit. It was only after, I learnt that she’d switched to working the night shift for the whole time I was in ward 5b.
Sometimes in the later part of the morning there was an appointment with one or more of the doctors. There were four of them that were interested in me and they divided their time and mine amongst themselves.
From them I learnt that I had two abnormal bone growths inside my skull, but that they appeared benign and were probably genetic, so were nothing to worry about. I also learnt that my broken bones were healing very quickly indeed. The word ‘accelerated’ was used in a tone that conveyed puzzlement, but overall we agreed that this was a piece of good luck. I was also told that I appeared to have high levels of antigens and something that appeared similar to a complex antibiotic in my system, neither of which they could account for. Dr Green said that the military were always trying new combinations of inoculations, so perhaps I’d been in the armed forces, but it was something I never got round to following up. Grace was never keen on the idea. She was also sure that the very frequent samples of my blood that seemed to be needed, were not all for my benefit.
The sessions to help me regain my memory were the most difficult. I was an enthusiastic guinea pig and more than willing for them to try anything. Sometimes very vague ideas came into my mind. One was looking down at a destroyed, dead planet, knowing that it used to be blue and green. Another time I felt sure that I’d never known my parents. It wasn’t that I’d forgotten them, there was simply nothing to forget. When we discussed adoption as a possibility for my lack of feelings about them, that didn’t seem to fit either. I felt nothing, but it didn’t feel wrong to me; it felt natural.
When they asked me to draw a house, the type a child would like to live in, I drew what we decided looked more like a spaceship; mainly because I drew it above the planet, not in a street or anything.
Under gentle hypnosis I remembered a conversation that I had overheard. It was very distant. Grace was there, talking to someone else and she was very upset. There was something about the war that was coming and I felt that I had to do something to stop it or stop her from joining up in some way. During another session I remembered watching a political rally; everyone was wearing brown shirts and it was a long time ago, I could tell from the cars on the street. I felt that I was actually standing there watching it, not just seeing it on a screen. None of it made any sense and by the time I left the hospital we were all pretty much agreed that I had a very vivid imagination.
There were only two things I felt in anyway certain about: that I loved history and I knew Grace, even if I had as few real details about her life as I had about my own. I knew that I knew her in all the important ways, but that didn’t change the fact that she hadn’t known me at the time of the accident.
Grace and I were not confined to the ward during visiting hours, so we often went to one of the cafes downstairs where we would chat for hours. During my in-patient stay I found I had a knack for getting people to talk about themselves. Most people were very open with me and from them I learnt all sorts of interesting things, but not Grace. I learnt very little about her life and who was in it. Apart from the subject of work, she avoided any questions about anything else and little was offered in conversation.
I did however, learn a lot about her. We talked about what I’d been reading and what we both thought about it. Books were clearly important to her and she often became quite animated as we discus
sed plots and characters of those we had both read. We talked of places that we would like to visit and what we’d do there. For both of us Paris figured high on the list and I had a vague feeling that I’d been there before, but I couldn’t explain it or even be sure about it.
I learnt that she liked watching the rain and looking at the stars. I could draw all the constellations and I taught her them, without the help of the night sky. She liked clothes, but she didn’t buy many. She liked things tidy and organised, she loved watching films and her tastes ran to all kinds. I began to think that she also liked me and that made me very happy indeed.
She was there when I was told that I would be discharged in two days. The nurse suggested that I talk to Social Services, as I couldn’t just leave and go nowhere, but Grace was not all happy about that.
“They mean well I suppose, but things tend to become unnecessarily complicated when Social Services gets involved.”
She didn’t look me in the eye as she spoke and I wondered how her life had been complicated by their involvement in it.
Then she became quite animated. “Look, one of the women where I work rents out rooms to students. I know she’s got a vacancy because she put a card on the notice board yesterday. They’re not expensive and everything’s included except food.” she said, looking at me to see what I thought.
“Well I have to go somewhere and I have to start thinking about building a life until I remember what the old one was like and I do have some money. Do you think it would it be enough?”
As I asked, I realised that I didn’t even remember what a normal lifestyle cost.
She laughed. “If you’re careful, you could make that last a good five months and I’m sure it won’t take that long to get your memory back.”
She tried to sound confident, but I could tell that she was no longer sure that it wouldn’t take months or possibly even years.
Grace arranged everything and I moved into one of the rooms at the top of the house. It was large enough to be more than just a bedroom and it had a TV, which I found I liked to watch and it helped me while away hour after hour. It was just a twenty minute walk from where she worked, so it meant that she often popped in to see how I was doing.
What about us? Page 14