Clean Slate

by Andrea Bramhall

  Morgan cleared her throat. “So are you ready to go back to school next week?”

  He shrugged and sawed a large section off his pasta.

  “What year are you going into?”

  “Nine.”

  Morgan frowned. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Third year at secondary school. They changed the system in 1992, but you probably wouldn’t remember any of it.” Erin smiled at Tristan as she filled in the blanks. “Later this year, Tristan gets to decide what he wants to study for his exams.”

  So much to relearn. “Oh, okay. So what subjects will you pick? Do you know yet?”

  He shrugged again.

  Erin frowned. “Tristan, answer your mum.”

  “It’s okay. He doesn’t have to.” Morgan smiled sadly, first at Erin, then Tristan. “I’m sorry this is so hard for you, but thank you for trying.” She looked down at her plate, wondering how she was going to eat enough so she wouldn’t insult Erin, while her stomach was telling her it wasn’t going to cooperate.

  “PE, geography, French, and art. Those are the ones I get to choose, because we have to do math, English, and science.”

  Morgan turned her head. He was using his fork to worry a slice of tomato across the plate, but his eyes kept flicking up to her. “Art?”

  He shrugged.

  “Would you show me sometime?”

  This time his eyes met hers and held as he nodded.

  Progress. Baby steps, Morgan, baby steps. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll show you mine, too, Mum.” Maddie spoke around a mouthful of pasta.

  “That would be wonderful.”

  Maddie carried most of the conversation through the rest of the meal, and Morgan felt she understood the finer workings of the British education system by the time they were done. Tristan’s input was minimal, but he was visibly more relaxed and his plate was clean when he left the room.

  “Can I help clean up?” Morgan pushed her chair back and started to gather dishes.

  “No, Maddie’s loading the dishwasher tonight. In fact, she’s doing it for the next week.” Erin grinned at Maddie, and the barest hint of a dimple creased her cheek. It was the first time Morgan had seen it, and she was fascinated. She wanted to smooth her finger over her skin and feel the softness she was sure she’d find.

  “Aw, Mum!”

  “It’s dishwasher duty or no TV for a week, you pick.”

  “Dishwasher duty.”

  “I thought it would be. Go on, scoot.” She tapped Maddie’s bottom playfully as she got out of her chair, and winked at Morgan.

  Her face felt hot, and she knew her cheeks were burning red. “I should get going then.” Morgan opened her arms and lifted Maddie as she hugged her, the child’s giggles warming her neck. “Phone me next time, and I’ll come for you. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Go finish your chores.” Maddie skipped back toward the sink and slowly rinsed the plates. “Thank you for having me.”

  “You’re welcome.” Erin’s smile was warm and friendly.

  She put her jacket on. “You said there was some stuff for me to get?”

  “Oh, God, yes, just a minute.” She climbed the stairs and Morgan heard a door open. She took a few minutes to study the photographs up the wall. Pictures of them all in staged poses, playing football, blowing out candles, and living their lives covered so much of the space she didn’t have time to look at them all before she heard footsteps down the stairs.

  She turned and was surprised to see Tristan. “Oh, I thought you’d be your mum.”

  “I’ve got her eyes, but that’s about it.” He smiled, a crooked little smile that made his face look younger.

  “No, you’ve got her good looks too.” She started to reach out, wanting to ruffle his hair, but she stopped, uncertain if her touch would be welcome or not.

  “I’ve got something for you.” He held out a slim square box.

  She took it and slowly turned it so she could read the title. Tristan and Maddie’s baby films. She didn’t think as she pulled him into her body and held him tight. His arms were slow to come around her, but they did. His tears mingled with her own.

  “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

  “It’s just a DVD, Mum.”

  Morgan’s heart soared. “No, it’s not. But I didn’t mean that. I meant this.” She squeezed him tighter. “It’s everything.” She kissed his hair, stroked his precious face, and slowly let him go. “Thank you.”

  He looked down at his feet then sauntered off to the kitchen.

  She wiped her eyes and stared at the box.

  “Looks like he’s forgiven you.” Erin’s eyes were bright with her own unshed tears.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but I’ll take it.”

  Erin handed her a bag. “I didn’t open it, but I think it’s just your clothes from the night you were attacked. I thought about washing the clothes for you, but…” She shrugged slightly. “It just didn’t feel like—it didn’t feel right.”

  “I understand. Thank you. For this.” She held up the bag. “For tonight. For everything, I guess.”

  “I’ll call you tomorrow about the kids’ schedule. I’m glad you’re up to helping out more often.”

  Morgan dropped her chin to her chest and left the house. The blow of the separation stung her to the core.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Laughter greeted her as Morgan opened the door and stepped inside. The plastic bag containing her clothes banged against her leg as she dropped her keys onto the table and hung up her coat.

  “It’s just me.”

  Amy poked her head round the door. “Good. Glad you’re back. We thought of something else that might stir some memories.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “A night out on the town, baby!” Nikki’s voice reached her from the sitting room.

  Amy’s body jerked as if she were slapping at Nikki, then she started giggling. “Stop it!”

  Morgan walked into the front room, laughing. Nikki was tickling Amy’s stomach as she was slapping at her and trying to pull away.

  “Nikki…stop. I mean it!”

  “I thought you guys were old now?” Morgan grinned as both their heads snapped round.

  “Who are you calling old?” Nikki looked outraged.

  Amy managed to wriggle out of Nikki’s grasp, and retaliated with a swift slap on her arm. “Yeah, you’re older than both of us!”

  “By six weeks!”

  “Ow.” Nikki rubbed her arm. “Six weeks, those make a huge difference, my friend.”

  Amy stretched her feet onto Nikki’s lap. “So do you feel up to it?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Yeah, why not. It’s not as if I have to get up for work tomorrow.”

  “Good point.” Nikki pointed at the bag in her hand. “What’s that?”

  “A bag.”

  “Oh, a comedienne.” She turned to Amy. “Look, baby, our little girl’s all grown up and trying to be funny.”

  Amy arched her eyebrow, a sardonic smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  “Yeah, so anyway.” Nikki turned back to Morgan. “What’s in the bag, M?”

  Morgan laughed. “Pressies.”

  “For me? You shouldn’t have.”

  “Good, because I didn’t.” She pulled the DVD case out and waved it. “Tristan made me a video.”

  “We call them DVDs now that we’re out of the dark ages.”

  “Amy, slap her again please.”

  Amy giggled as she complied and Nikki rubbed her arm as she pouted.

  “Thank you. Tristan made me a DVD of them when they were little.”

  “Wow. Breakthrough.” Amy smiled.

  “I know.” She bowed her head staring at the slim case, prying open the cover, only to snap it closed, over and over again.

  “Want to watch it now?”

  Morgan looked at the plastic disc. Such an innocuous looking thing, with its shiny refle
ctive finish and matt underside, but she knew that this would be both crushing and overwhelmingly uplifting.

  “Not right now, thanks. I think that’s something I want to do when I can savor it.”

  She expected to see Tristan’s first steps, with his chubby little baby legs running to keep him balanced. She wanted to hear the first words from Maddie’s cherubic lips, her dimples etched in her cheeks, grinning at her own accomplishment. She knew all these moments, she’d seen them, heard them, known them before, but to discover them anew was something she needed to do alone. She already knew that she’d need time to mourn the loss of the memories even as she discovered the wonder of recapturing them.

  “I understand. What else do you have there?”

  “Clothes. The nurses gave Erin my stuff while I was in hospital. I’m going to put this all in the wash. Do you have anything to go in the machine?”

  “Yeah, I’ll go grab the basket.” Amy left the room.

  “You okay?” Nikki asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” She pulled herself out of the chair and headed for the utility room. There wasn’t a great deal in the bag. A pair of black ankle boots, a black denim jacket, and a pair of jeans. Where’s my top? She unfolded the clothes to see if things had been tucked inside. And my bra? She checked inside the boots and squeezed the pockets in the jeans. She let her arms fall heavily back to her sides, causing a twinge in her healing shoulder. They probably had to cut it all off and threw away the ruined stuff.

  She shook her head and stuffed the jeans into the washing machine. Morgan grabbed the jacket and checked the pockets. Something crinkled as she squeezed the fabric. She frowned as she fished the paper out and glanced at it as she stuffed the jacket into the drum, ignoring the blood that had dried around the collar and down the front.

  It was an envelope. It was obvious the adhesive flap on the back had been opened repeatedly, since parts of it were torn and the edges refused to lay flat. There were dirty, smudged fingerprints in the corners and along the top edge. She frowned as she turned it over.

  The red postal stamp, top center, caught her eye. June thirteenth. Manchester. Her name and address were hand written in neat block capitals. The second-class stamp, with its blue background and white Queen’s head, looked slightly worn. Everything neat and proper and in its place, including the black box stamp in the top left hand corner. Four letters stood out, white on black.

  H.M.P.S.

  Her Majesty’s Prison Service.

  She felt as though the air in the room was too heavy, pressing down on her chest, making it harder and harder to breathe. Instinctively she knew the letter was a doorway, a passage to her father. He was the only person she knew in prison. I think.

  Her hands shook. The writing blurred as she stared at it, her eyes glazed and unseeing. It had to be important. Why else would she be carrying it on her at the end of July, when it’s dated June?

  “Morgan, what’s wrong?” Amy put the basket down.

  She turned and held the envelope out. “Do you know what this is?”

  Amy looked down but didn’t reach for it. “Other than a letter, I have no idea. What is it?”

  Morgan pointed to the stamp in the corner. “Did I see him?”

  “No.”

  “Did I want to?”

  Amy shook her head and led Morgan out of the small room. “No. You didn’t have any contact with him at all, and to the best of my knowledge, he didn’t try to contact you either.”

  “So why do I have this?” She waved the envelope before dropping her arm back to her side and sitting on the sofa. “Do you know?” She turned to Nikki.

  Nikki took the envelope and looked it over. “Not a bloody clue.” She started to peel the flap.

  “Stop!” Morgan’s heart pounded wildly in her chest.

  Nikki’s hands froze and she looked up, startled. “We won’t know what it is unless we open it.”

  Morgan stared at the white square of paper, but couldn’t find the words to explain.

  “Maybe that’s the point, Nikki.” Amy took the envelope from her and gave it back to Morgan. “Maybe she doesn’t want to know right now.”

  Amy was right. She didn’t want to know. Morgan Masters, the failed wife and mother, knew what was in that letter, and she kept it with her, guarded it more closely than she had her own children. The date on the envelope told her that. June thirteenth. It had to mean something to me to be carrying it on me six weeks later.

  Secrets. Whatever was in the envelope was something she had kept from everyone who loved her. The secrets of a man, whom she hadn’t even spoken to in twenty years, had been more important to that Morgan than anything else in her life. Morgan didn’t know how she knew, but she was certain of it. Would she feel the same way knowing what was in the letter? Would she choose it over them again? It was a risk she wasn’t willing to take.

  “I don’t want to be her.”

  Nikki frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Before the amnesia, I knew what was in that letter. I knew and I didn’t tell anyone about it, but I left my family. Coincidence?” She shrugged. “Maybe. But I don’t think so. What happens if I open that letter now, read it, and I feel like I did before? I don’t want to be her.”

  “The old Morgan?” Amy sat next to her. “Why not?”

  “I’ve already told you, she was a fucking idiot. You told me she was miserable. I don’t understand why. She had a wonderful family, a good job, good friends. Everything that would be on my wish list, she already had, and she blew it. Why would I want to be her again?”

  “But what if this is important?” Nikki frowned.

  “How important can it be? You told me I hadn’t had anything to do with him for twenty years. Now he wants to be pen pals? Well, I’m not buying it.”

  Nikki shifted forward in her seat. “M, hear me out. Your dad’s not exactly going to be a spring chicken anymore; what if this is because he’s ill, or maybe even the prison telling you he’s died?”

  “Nikki, don’t say something like that!” Amy gripped her hand.

  “I still don’t want to know.” Morgan didn’t falter.

  “How can you not want to know? He’s your father.”

  “He is not more important to me than my children. I will not—cannot—do anything to screw up with them again. I honestly don’t want to know anything about him. I know that probably makes me sound like a bitch, but he made the choices he did and he has to live with the consequences. I’m choosing not to be drawn into that old history. My old history.”

  Nikki was incredulous. “But aren’t you even curious?”

  Morgan laughed. “Curiosity is not what I’m feeling right now.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’m terrified.”

  “Of a letter?” She waved the envelope.

  “No. Of the possibilities. That letter is the proverbial can of worms. The second I open it, I know that I’m going to need to know things that I don’t remember. Things I don’t want to remember. Things that might make me her again.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “No. But I have a choice now. I can choose to learn the things she knew, and risk becoming her again. Or I can leave it all behind and be the woman she could never have been.”

  “Is that why you haven’t read the transcript yet?”

  “Yes.” She grabbed the letter back from Nikki. “I don’t want to be her. And now I don’t have to be. I’m sorry if that’s annoying for you. I’m sorry if you’re dying of curiosity. And I know you want answers to why I left the way I did. Maybe those are in there.”

  “Maybe?”

  “Okay, probably. But I still don’t want to be her. I want to be better.”

  “Maybe that’s good enough for you, M. But I don’t think it’s ever going to be good enough for Erin. She wants to know. She needs to know.”

  Morgan looked at the envelope in her hands, turning it over again and again. She knew Nikki was right. She knew that Erin w
anted—needed—the answers.

  “Maybe I should just let her read it and see if that explains everything to her.”

  “You want to just give it to her without even reading it?”

  “It doesn’t really feel like it’s mine anyway.”

  “Of course it’s yours. It’s got your name on it.”

  Morgan shook her head. “No, it’s hers.” Morgan folded the letter in two and slid it into her pocket.

  “You know, I can’t get my head around this. One minute you sound like we did twenty years ago, and the next minute you sound more mature than you did a month ago. My head’s starting to ache with it all.” Nikki scrubbed her hand over her face.

  Morgan laughed. “If that’s true, then it’s about time I grew up.”

  “Come on. Let’s get ready and go have some fun. I need a break before my head explodes.” Nikki stood and pulled Amy to her feet.

  Chapter Twenty

  The doorbell rang and Erin looked at the clock. Eight p.m. “It’s open.” She dried her hands on a dishtowel and left the kitchen.

  “Mum, I got a new badge at Brownies!” Maddie came bustling in with a panda mask on her face.

  Erin smiled down at her. “You did? Which one?”

  “World cultures. I made this panda mask on a balloon.” She pointed to her covered face. “Pandas come from China and I like Chinese food. But I won’t eat panda’s ’cos they’re endangered.”

  “I know.” She lifted the mask and kissed Maddie’s cheek, then hugged her tight. “I’m very proud of you.” She looked up and caught Morgan watching them, a sad smile on her face. She patted Maddie’s bottom. “Now go find a place to keep your mask safe and get your PJ’s on. We’ve got your homework reading to do.”

  She waited while Maddie hugged Morgan and scampered up the stairs.

  “You okay?”

  Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know. Can we talk?”

  “I was just going to make some tea. The kettle’s already boiled. Do you want a cup?” Erin made her way into the kitchen without waiting for an answer, her heart thumping. What does she want to talk about? Has Tristan said something? She made the tea and led them into the sitting room. It still felt strange seeing Morgan. Seeing a stranger in the eyes of a face she knew better than her own.