by D. S. Smith
The article reported:
“Large Cat expert and Post Graduate Researcher, Lauren Bell, died of Falciparum malaria in Kenya at the age of 24. Miss Bell was working for Anthropologist and Conservationist, Professor Richard Leakey who expresses his deep sadness at the tragic loss of such a promising, young scientist.”
The article was dated from ten years earlier.
Dr Carson pondered over this new information for a moment. She already suspected Stuart connected strongly with Lauren at their first meeting. If he only recently learned of her demise there was a good possibility the shock could have been enough to cause his mind to reject this and create an alternative scenario. She now felt sure it would be more beneficial for Stuart to be in his home environment. Being surrounded by reminders of the life he currently rejected might stimulate his mind to open up again. She revisited her evaluation notes. All of the comments in report were still valid so she sent the email to her colleague recommending an immediate discharge. She would allow Stuart time at home to find his own answers before revealing the news of Lauren’s demise. As hard as it was going to be for him to hear this news it was irrefutable and would give them a highly probable cause for his condition.
Chapter 12
It took just twenty minutes for the Coast Guard to locate the vessel that had been broadcasting the mayday call, but in that short time it had capsized. The conditions were as good as they got in the Gulf, so as they approached the barnacle-encrusted hull, bobbing gently in the slow swell, Captain Durant pondered over what could have caused a ship this size to overturn. The divers were already suited up as they pulled alongside the vessel and the spotters were scanning the area through binoculars. There were no signs of life around the hull, just a scattering of debris, clothing and life jackets. A life boat drifted away slowly about a hundred yards from the stricken ship, but there were no flags and flares indicating survivors The captain ordered the Fast Recovery RIB to be lowered into the water to attend the lifeboat. He turned his gaze to the heavens as he heard the familiar rumbling of the USAF Search and Rescue helicopters approaching the area. He made contact, instructing them to carry out a spiral search, working their way out from the vessel site to a one mile perimeter. It was unlikely any of the crew would have made it that far out but this was standard search procedure. By this time the divers were in the water and the RIB crew were boarding the lifeboat. Over the next sixty minutes Captain Durant received information back from his search parties that left him perplexed. The divers advised that all internal areas of the vessel had been searched but none of crew were found. The helicopters reported no sign of bodies in the water within a mile radius around the overturned vessel. Captain Durant found this hard to believe, so he ordered the divers to carry out a second search and instructed the helicopters to continue flying the area. Of the seventeen crew reported to have been onboard only one was found. The RIB crew reported a man had been discovered on the lifeboat. He was alive but unconscious and in need of medical attention beyond the first aid they could offer. Durant instructed one of the helicopters to evacuate the casualty back to shore while the other continued to search the area. Within a couple of hours several more vessels arrived at the location to assist with the search but hope of finding any more survivors was fading fast. The only explanation, as unlikely as it seemed, was that the whole crew were out on deck when the vessel capsized and they had all sank to the depths. Before Durant had time to consider this further he received a report from the helicopter pilot that the casualty had regained consciousness and was talking about the incident. He claimed he was the captain of the supply vessel. He said he had been inspecting the lifeboat when the incident occurred. He described how the sea had “sprouted up before them” flipping the vessel over like a toy. The information fuelled many theories amongst the rescuers. The two most popular being an old WW2 mine or a terrorist attack.
The search continued for a further four hours before Captain Durant decided to scale it down. The one remaining helicopter needed to return to base for fuel, so he instructed it to do one final sweep before departing. Within minutes of giving this instruction something unbelievable happened. The helicopter reported it had spotted bodies floating within metres of the overturned vessel. Durant had barely been able to digest this information when other reports started to come in of bodies appearing all around the boat, some showing definite signs of life. In the minutes that followed the rescue team were able to recover all sixteen crew members. Eleven were still alive but five had perished. The next call Durant made was his strangest of the day. He put out a request to all vessels in the immediate area to provide any clothing or blankets they could spare. All the survivors they pulled out of the water, and those that had perished, were naked.
Chapter 13
“Mummy it’s that man again. Over there in that car.”
Stuart heard the girl shout to her mother and panic rose inside him. The girl appeared at the door of number 11, spotting him straight away. The mother appeared behind her, pulling her back into the house. She shut the door and headed over to his car, putting on a jacket as she walked. Stuart got out to greet her, hands raised above his head in submission, expecting a heated confrontation, but the women addressed him calmly. “Listen, I know you’ve suffered some kind of loss and I sympathise with you, but you are scaring my daughter by showing up like this. I didn’t press charges last time but if you show up again I’ll have to consider it.”
“I understand how you feel,” Stuart said lowering his arms, “and you won’t see me again after this, but I just want you to answer me one question. How long have you lived at this address?”
“We’ve been here for ten years. We moved in, in 2000 and before us there was an old couple who had lived here since the house was built in the 1970s.”
“Thank you, that’s all I wanted to know. I won’t bother you again.” Stuart offered backing away. The woman regarded him with sympathetic eyes. “Good luck.” she said, heading back to the house. Stuart gave her a final wave and smiled before climbing back into his car and driving away.
He drove for about ten minutes with no destination in mind before pulling into a layby to gather his thoughts. He opened a window to get some fresh air. A strong smell of bacon wafted through from a mobile catering van positioned just a few yards ahead of where he parked. He climbed out of the car and went over to the van, where he ordered a large, black coffee from a woman who looked way too glamorous for the function she served. “That’ll be a pound, lovey,” she said in a strong East London accent. Stuart patted his pockets in sudden panic not having considered how he was going to pay for the drink. The wallet his brother had brought to him at the hospital was in his jacket pocket. He took it out before removing a £10 note which he handed to the woman.
“Don’t you have anything smaller dear?” the woman pleaded.
Stuart looked at her with a blank expression before offering, “That’s ok. Keep the change.”
He headed back to the car without waiting for the woman’s response. Reaching through the door to place the cup on to the dashboard, he climbed into the car. He sat, staring vacantly out of the window. A hedgerow lined the side of the layby forming a boundary between the road and the farmland beyond. A gap in the hedgerow offered him a glimpse into a field otherwise hidden from the constant flow of traffic passing by. Through the gap he saw an old mare standing motionless in the field, its colour as grey as the day itself. The animal’s mane hung limply across its neck, weighed down by the dampness of the air. Its back arched unnaturally, shaped by years of encumbrance. Stuart felt the horse watching him. He stared back, looking into the animal’s large, soft eye. It reflected the misery he was feeling. The windows were starting to mist from the heat of the coffee. He watched the steam condense on the glass, forming tiny droplets of water. Pressing a button on the side of the door, he lowered the window to disperse the steam. He looked toward the gap in the hedgerow. The horse was gone. Lauren was gone. The mist started to clear. Wh
y is there a family I’ve never met before occupying our home? How can that be? Why does no one else see how wrong that is? Why is everyone concentrating my state of mind instead of trying to find my missing wife who is carrying our unborn child? “Where are you Lauren?” he shouted out in desperation.
The restraint he had shown at the house earlier masked an underlying urge to barge in and tear place apart in search of his wife. The frustration caused by everyone’s dismissal of his predicament was becoming unbearable. How could they all believe he had imagined living in that house for all those years? That he could he conjure up such a vivid memory, the address, and the house number and post code, the colour of the door? Surely there was someone who could substantiate his claims. Am I going mad? he thought. Then, a name occurred to him. “Adam.” He said the name out loud.
He started the car a pulled out of the layby, throwing the undrunk coffee into a bin he passed on the way out. If anyone on the planet other than Lauren could help him untangle this mess it would be his lifelong friend Adam. He had known him for more than thirty years. They had grown up on the same housing estate, becoming friends when they discovered each other over the CB radio. Adam was a ‘stay at home dad’ for his two sons, Jack and Lee. He hadn’t worked since the age of eighteen. Back then he was a dispatch cyclist in London delivering documents between various offices and businesses. On one such delivery he was at the curb side dismounting his bike when a courier lost control of his van and careered into him. He suffered severe injuries down his right-side, especially to his right arm and hand. Despite several operations doctors were unable to save his hand, having to amputate it to save the rest of his arm. He received a substantial settlement from UPS for his injuries, including a lump sum and projected earnings for the rest of his working life. ‘Stay at home dad’ was Adam’s self-proclaimed title but it did not reflect what he had actually achieved in his life. Since recovering from the accident, he had bought and renovated three houses, studied for and passed an Open University Degree in Geology and earned a golf handicap of six having switched from right-handed clubs to left-handed. Other than Lauren there was no one Stuart trusted and respected more. Despite Adam’s impressive property portfolio, he chose to live in a humble three-bedroom terraced house just off the high street. Stuart had visited him there just days before his collapse to arrange a weekend golfing trip. His spirits were raised at the thought of seeing his friend.
He pulled up outside of what he thought was Adam’s home. “No, no, this can’t be,” Stuart moaned to himself. He reversed the car to the end of the street to check the sign. It was the right street. He pulled forward slowly counting the numbers on the doors as crept back toward where he believed Adam’s house was. But it wasn’t Adam’s house at all. The building was a hair salon complete with large display window offering various hair and beauty products and a neon sign advertising discount perms.
“This is bullshit,” he complained out loud. Angered by yet another major dent in his quest for answers, he jumped out of the car and strode into the hairdressers. A young girl stood behind a small counter at the front of the shop. “Hi, I wonder if you can help me?” Stuart asked forcing himself to remain calm. “A friend of mine used to live in this building but I don’t know when he moved out. Can you tell me how long it has been a hairdressers?” The girl didn’t answer but instead looked to a shapely, older woman stood over a sink washing a customer’s hair. For a moment his hopes were raised. “We’ve only had the shop for a week dear.” But they were dashed again when she added, “Before us it was a shoe shop for many years.”
Stuart thanked her and left the salon, concealing his frustration. He walked past his car and turned onto the high street on foot. He hadn’t paid much attention when he’d driven along it just minutes before, but now, as he walked along a street he had walked a thousand times, he realised he did not recognise one single shop, pub or restaurant. The street was occupied by the same small, independent business but they all looked different to how he remembered them. All but one had a different name. Stuart felt his anxiety rising again accompanied by the queasiness in his stomach and the white spots swimming before his eyes. His heart raced and he felt like his legs were about to buckle beneath him. He managed to reach the town square and sit down on a bench. He feared he was about to collapse again but willed himself to calm down. He sat on the bench for about thirty minutes trying to compose himself. Slowly the dots in front of his eyes dispersed and his heart rate slowed, but the queasiness remained. He remembered he had not eaten anything since getting up that morning, a factor no doubt contributing to his faintness. There was a bakery in the corner of the square so he headed there to buy a sandwich and some water. As he stood in the queue waiting for his turn to be served he heard someone say his name. “Hello Stuart.” He turned to find the source of the voice was a tall, attractive brunette woman with clear blue eyes and naturally tanned skin. “Oh hi, how yer doin’?” He replied having no idea who she was. The woman looked at him quizzingly for a moment and raised her eyebrows. “God, you don’t recognise me do you?”
“I do yes,” he lied, “I just can’t quite place you?”
“Wait for me outside when you’re finished here. I’d like a quick word.” Stuart wasn’t sure if it was a good idea but he did as she asked and waited outside with his sandwich until the woman joined him a few minutes later. “You honestly don’t remember me do you?”
“Ok, I’ll be honest,” Stuart said embarrassed, “I have no idea who you are.” They sat on the bench eating their lunch. Angela described how they met that night in the pub and what it had led to. Stuart was mortified by what he was hearing. He had no recollection of their encounter but if what she claimed was true it went beyond embarrassment. If what she claimed was true it meant he had cheated on Lauren. He wanted to tell her she was mistaken, that he would never cheat on his wife. But with everything else he had learned about himself over the past few days he could not be sure what was true and what wasn’t.
“I’m so sorry for the way I treated you.” Stuart said, half to her and half to Lauren.
“You didn’t treat me that badly,” she replied. “In fact you treated me very nicely for most of the night,” she added flirting with him, “until you left me on my own in your apartment that is.”
He had no idea why he would do such a thing but if there was an ounce of truth to what she said, the least he could do was offer her some kind of explanation. He didn’t tell her the whole story but he did say he had been in a coma and couldn’t remember anything of the past few weeks. “It’s ok Stuart, your brother’s already told me what happened to you.” She looked at her watch. “Listen, I need to get back to work in a minute, but if there’s anything at all I can do to help just call.” She wrote her number on a scrap of paper and handed to him.
“So, where you off to now?” she asked.
“Actually, I’m trying to find a friend of mine,” he answered. “Trouble is I don’t remember where he lives.”
“Does he live within the county?” she asked
“Well, I think so,” he replied to the seemingly random question. “To be honest I thought he lived just around the corner from here but there’s a hairdresser where his house should be.”
“Today could be your lucky day Stuart,” she said winking at him. “Come on, follow me.”
To his surprise, she told him that if his friend lived within the county she would be able to trace him. She worked at the town hall as an archiver for the Public Records Office. The council had recently decided to digitise all their records. For the past two weeks, and for the foreseeable future, her day involved scanning and data-basing thousands of old registers. Helping him would be a welcome break from this.
Stuart expected the Records Office to be a dark and dingy cavernous hall with rows of shelves stretching to infinity, stacked with tens of thousands of box files and folders. Instead he found himself in a small, brightly lit room containing three empty desks and a large photocopying mac
hine. There was a picture of cross-eyed, hairless cat on the wall with a slogan underneath that read “You don’t have to be mad to work here but we are!” Angela sat down at her computer and instructed Stuart to pull up a chair from one of the vacant desks. She tapped the keyboard of her computer before looking up to Stuart and asking for his friend’s name and date of birth. Stuart grimaced at this as he did not know Adam’s birth date. He knew he was born the same year as him and had a vague memory it was in March or April because he always gave him an Easter egg for his birthday when they were kids. Angela resumed with the tapping and came up with two hits: Adam John White, born 25 August 1970 and Adam Paul White born 2 April 1970. Stuart informed her it was the latter. She scribbled the address onto a piece of paper and handed it to him.
He then asked her to look up Margaret Bell, saying she was an aunty he had not seen for years. He followed this up asking for Lauren Bell, Margaret’s daughter and his cousin. Neither of these produced any hits, a fact that did not surprise him as the hospital had clearly been trying the same searches. With some trepidation, he asked if he could look at his own records just out of curiosity. Angela tapped the keyboard and turned the monitor toward him so he could see it. To anyone else the entry would seem unremarkable stating his name, address, date and place of birth. To him it was another devastating blow in his quest to prove his sanity.
Stuart spent a further twenty minutes talking with Angela who by now was clearly flirting with him. “It’s a shame you don’t remember our night together Stuart,” she purred, “but whenever you feel ready I’m happy to help you relive it.” The flirting made him uncomfortable and he just wanted to get out of there. He was only interested in finding Lauren. He remained friendly but was careful not to lead her on. He said he needed to get back to normal before he could start going out again. One of Angela’s colleagues returned from lunch so he took this as an opportunity to say his goodbyes and make a swift exit.