Eva was still nervous, but there was a sense of calm surrounding Georgie that seemed to put the whole room at ease.
“Tell me, Eva, when did you have your transplant?”
“Monday night.”
“How did you feel when you woke up?”
“Like I could breathe. I’d forgotten how good it felt to breathe so freely. Even with all the tubes in, I could tell the difference. I read in the article that you had DCM, too,” said Eva. Andrew looked puzzled, so she added, “Dilated cardiomyopathy. The heart becomes enlarged, and eventually it is too weak to pump blood around the body.”
Georgie nodded, and smiled. “I was in hospital for three months before they found a heart. They said it went down to the wire. I had only days left. I’d started saying goodbye to my family, but my husband and son wouldn’t let me give up. Then one day as Greg, that’s my husband, was doing his best to talk me into a bite of toast, the nurse came rushing in and snatched it out of his hand. ‘No food,’ she said. ‘There’s a heart coming in. We need to prep you for surgery.’ That was the day I met Jake.”
“I’m sorry?” said Eva.
“Jake,” repeated Georgie, lightly tapping a hand to her chest.
This is a whole new world, thought Eva. A different way of thinking, a different kind of belief. She wasn’t sure she was prepared to be part of this world. There were so many questions, but none she could properly verbalise right now. Luckily, her mother was still in her corner.
“You are convinced of this cellular memory thing, aren’t you?” asked Brenda.
“Yes, I am.” She looked at both of them, a silent request for permission to continue. Eva nodded. “It started with my son, John. I think it mentioned in the article that he was doing a research project for school, and that is how he came across cellular memory. He’s a persistent little bugger, and he was soon convinced that some new habits I’d acquired since the surgery must be coming from the heart. Greg and I ignored him for as long as we could, but he wore us down eventually.
“They let you write letters to the donor’s family, and the family can write to you if they want, as well. Your transplant coordinator probably told you that already. Anyway, we had some correspondence with the family, but it was quite general. We did find out the donor was a young man killed in a car accident just weeks after his wedding. It was a tragic case of someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. John went through newspaper archives for both weddings and accidental deaths around the time of my transplant, and was able to find out the young man’s name. Jake. When he told me, I just nodded. The name sounded familiar. So close to me.”
“Was that when you made contact with his wife?” asked Eva.
“Not at first. I thought about it a lot. I tried to put myself in her shoes. Would I want this person knocking on my door saying she’s alive because my husband is dead. You would understand that now, Eva. It’s a big thing for a transplant patient to accept, that someone else has to die for you to live. I can’t imagine how it feels from the other side. But I couldn’t get Jake, or his wife, out of my mind. In the end I decided I had to contact her.”
“And you arranged to meet?” asked Eva.
“Yes. Jake’s wife’s name is Maria. She came to our house, along with Jake’s brother, Pete. As soon as they walked in there was this rush. I could feel my heart bursting. I knew her. I had such a strong reaction to seeing her face. It was like déjà vu, but one hundred times stronger. There was a real connection between us, and I know she felt it too. I had a similar reaction to Pete as well, but not nearly as strong as with Maria. We embraced. It was natural and I felt like I wanted to hold her forever. I wanted to tell her that everything was all right. I know, it sounds like the script from a bad made-for-television movie, but it’s what happened.”
Eva’s hand sought out the bandages on her own chest. She shifted position in the bed, finding it difficult to get comfortable.
“What did you talk to them about?” Brenda asked.
“We talked for hours about all kinds of things. I think it was good for Maria, some kind of closure for her. The shock of losing Jake just weeks after their wedding, that’s something she’ll never get over. I felt like it helped for her to see me, to see that some good came from his death. But, more than that, I think she could feel a part of him through me. When I talked about the changes in me since the transplant, both Maria and Pete laughed and cried as they recognised parts of Jake’s personality. It was incredible. He was a neat freak, and a big fan of Indian food, both of which were changes in me that John noticed. There’s other things, too. Things only Maria and I will ever know. But I have no doubts. Jake is gone, his family have accepted that, but part of him lives on in my heart.”
Georgie referred to it as “her heart”, not Jake’s, Eva noticed. Would she ever be able to see the new heart in her chest as her own? She felt that she had begun to do just that, before Andrew barged in on her life. As much as she wanted to feel good about Georgie’s story, to be happy that something good came from tragedy, she couldn’t help but compare it to her own morbid circumstances.
“Lucky for you your donor was a nice guy,” she said. “My situation is a bit more complicated.”
“I know. I want to help, Eva.”
“How do you think you can help? I have the heart of a killer. It’s that simple. You can’t change that, no-one can. Your donor heart changed you. Jake has affected your personality — that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? So this killer inside me…” Tears welled, Eva couldn’t possibly finish that sentence. What was this heart going to do to her? What was it already doing?
“You’re right,” said Georgie, “that isn’t going to change. But maybe we can work together to figure out these nightmares. Maybe we can find Amanda before she dies, and something good will have come from your heart.”
Brenda stepped forward. “I’m not sure about all this. Eva’s just had major surgery. You can see how fragile she is.”
Eva closed her eyes, and almost instantly the faceless woman was there. There was no getting away from it; the woman in her dreams was there to stay. She’d always been one to confront her fears, not hide from them. It was time to deal with this.
“No, Mum. It’s okay,” she said. Brenda stepped back, and Eva turned to Georgie. “What do you want me to do?”
At the mention of Amanda’s name Andrew had risen to his feet. He was clearly getting impatient, something that Georgie wasn’t going to tolerate.
“The whole essence of cellular memory is that you have to slow down and let it happen. It cannot be forced.” She turned to Andrew and Brenda. “How about you two go and get a drink or something. Give us a little space.” Both of them looked like they were about to protest, for different reasons, but then thought better of it. After a reassuring nod from Eva, Brenda picked up her bag and she and Andrew walked to the door.
“Call if you need me,” she said. “We’ll be just outside.”
Once they left, Eva asked Georgie to tell her more about cellular memory.
“There aren’t many medical professionals who take this seriously, but there are some. I’ve read books on the subject, and what I’ve learnt from them, together with my own experiences, comes down to this: our hearts store energy and information that help make up who we are. But most people are not cardio-sensitive enough to pick up on this energy.”
“Cardio-sensitive?” It was a term Eva had not heard before.
Georgie nodded. “We live in a brain-focused world. The brain dominates. It has created such a fast-paced, stressful world that the more subtle intelligence of the heart is often lost. In fact, the brain can be so demanding it actually contributes to the failures of our hearts. How many heart attacks are caused by overwork, and stress? Cardio-sensitive means being open to the energy of the heart — silencing the brain, focusing on the heart and being sensitive to what it is trying to tell us, the information and memories it stores.”
“And you think if I can be more cardio
-sensitive, I can help Amanda?” Eva thought she knew exactly what Georgie meant, but was too afraid to say it out loud. If she tuned into these memories of the heart, the nightmare was going to become more vivid, more real. Could she cope with that?
“I believe your nightmares are coming from your heart. That heart is trying to tell you something, to show you something, through its memories. You have to get in touch with those memories in order to let them go. And you have to let them go so you can accept your heart and get on with your life.”
“You’re asking me to let a psychopath take control of me. I don’t think I can do this.” Eva pulled the blanket tight around her body.
“Yes, you can. Trust me, Eva, you are stronger than you think.”
Something about this woman was reassuring. Eva calmed, tried to remember that, physically at least, she was safe here in the hospital. This stuff was all in her mind, or her heart. She nodded. “What do you want me to do?”
“I’m going to go outside. While I’m gone, I want you to be very still. Quiet your mind, as well as your body. Don’t think about the past, or the future, just be in the present. I know that sounds naff, but trust me. If you can’t switch your brain off, then try thinking about your heart. Not where it came from, but where it is now. Feel it beat, concentrate on its rhythm. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Eva took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes. She’d tried meditation in the past, but it had never worked for her. She couldn’t sit cross-legged on the floor for long enough. This felt strange, but she could understand what Georgie had said about getting in touch with the memories of the heart in order to let them go. So she tried to do it, to quiet her mind, and listen to her heart.
By the time the door to her room opened again Eva was almost asleep, but she was aware of Georgie’s presence in the room.
“Keep your eyes closed,” began Georgie, the strong smell of cigarette on her breath contrasting with the smooth sound of her voice. “The last nightmare you had. Why don’t you talk me through that one? As much detail as you can remember, even if it doesn’t sound important.”
“It’s always the same room. It’s empty. There are marks on the bare walls where pictures may have once hung. The woman is standing at the bench in the kitchen. There’s a sink, and benches in an L-shape. There’s a layer of dust, like it hasn’t been used for a while. There’s nothing on the counter-top except a bunch of keys. Lots of keys.”
“Tell me about the woman. What do you notice about her?”
“She’s tall, I have to look up slightly. I can make out long hair, a light colour. I can tell that her face is pale, but it’s still blank. Why can’t I see her features?”
“Keep going. Don’t worry about her face for now. What is she wearing?”
Eva fidgeted with the edge of her blanket.
“I can’t see. I can’t tell what she’s wearing.” The machine monitoring her heart rate was beeping faster now.
“Okay, Eva, it’s all right. Let’s go back to the room. Tell me if you can see anything else about the room.”
“No, I can’t.”
“What about you. Can you see yourself?”
“No,” she cried, opening her eyes. “I can’t. I can’t do this.” She pulled the blanket up tight around her chest. The beeping was fast enough to bring in a nurse, and Brenda and Andrew were not far behind.
“What did you do to her?” said Brenda, positioning herself between Georgie and the bed while the nurse checked the monitor and made some notes.
“It was her first time going through the memory while awake,” Georgie began to explain, before Eva interrupted.
“It’s not her fault, Mum. I got spooked, that’s all. This is going to be harder than I thought. I need some time.”
Andrew stepped up.
“We don’t have time. Amanda’s out there somewhere, dying.” He looked toward Georgie. “Isn’t there something we can do? Some way to speed things up a bit here?”
“No,” she said simply. “We can’t force this. It doesn’t work that way. Eva needs time to connect with the heart.”
The nurse told them all to back off, that what Eva needed was rest.
“I have to go now anyway,” said Georgie. She turned to Eva. “Try not to let all this upset you. It’s your heart now, concentrate on that. It’s trying to help you. You have to find a way to let it.”
Brenda glared after Georgie as she left the room.
“I really don’t think this is a good idea, sweetheart.”
Andrew spoke before Eva had the chance. “Please, don’t give up. You’re my only hope.”
Those desperate eyes. Eva nodded. She’d try, that was the best she could do.
27
Once Andrew had left as well, Brenda fussed around, eyeing the monitor and checking Eva’s drip and chest tubes. She muttered away about the quality of nursing in this hospital, and how if you wanted anything done properly you had to do it yourself. Eva tuned out until finally her mother stopped and sat down quietly beside the bed, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap.
“Mum, you know I have to figure this out, don’t you? I have to listen to this heart.”
Brenda was about to say something, but stopped at the mention of the heart. She sat back in the chair. Minutes felt like hours; Eva desperate to talk about this, to really talk to her mother, but knowing that wasn’t going to happen. Eventually Brenda stood.
“I have to go, dear.” Brenda retrieved her bag from the floor. “I promised I’d call in to see Aunt Myra this afternoon,” she continued, referring to her sister who’d just had a hip replaced.
“How is she?”
“Drugged to the eyeballs, apparently. She’ll probably have no idea I’m even there, but still, I want to check on her. The doctors said it went well, though. Uncle George thinks she’ll be up and about in no time.”
“That’d be right. She’s a tough cookie, Aunty M. Give her my love.”
“I’ll be back in tomorrow morning. Is there anything I can bring you?”
“How about a smile, Mum?”
Brenda managed a half-hearted smile as she busied herself tidying things that did not require tidying. She kissed her hand and touched it to Eva’s forehead.
“Sleep well.” Then she was gone.
* * *
Dinner was delivered after her mother left, and Eva took her time with the meal. Her appetite had not fully returned, but the sooner she ate properly the sooner she’d get her strength and be able to go home. And then what?
Not long after the dinner tray was cleared away Andrew poked his head around the corner.
“Okay if I come in?”
“Sure. The coast is clear. Mum’s gone.”
“It’s not your mum I’m worried about,” he said as he took a seat beside the bed. “I’m sorry. I’ve put you in such a difficult position. I didn’t realise it until I saw how upset you got earlier.”
Eva sighed, not knowing how to react. He was right, of course. It was an impossible situation. It wasn’t until Georgie had explained what she wanted to do that Eva realised the full magnitude of Andrew’s request for help.
“I’ve been walking around outside the hospital, doing some thinking,” Andrew continued. “It’s crazy, what I’m asking you to do. We should forget the whole thing. I should have more faith in the police.”
He was saying the words, Eva realised, but he didn’t believe them. Eyes downcast, he had that little-boy-lost look about him.
“You don’t really mean that,” she said. “And even if you did, it wouldn’t matter. I can’t stop now.”
He looked up, his eyes questioning.
“I have to get in touch with the heart,” she continued, “to find out what it’s trying to tell me. That’s what Georgie said. I have to get close to the evil of that man, because part of him is inside me. Yes, if it wasn’t for you, I’d never have known where this heart came from. But now I do know, and I know the nightmares have something to do with it. I
don’t have a choice. If Georgie is right, then I think these dreams will stay with me until I figure out what the heart is trying to say. And if that helps Amanda, well…”
“Even if it means acknowledging the evil in that heart?”
“You know, when you told me whose heart I received, I wanted to tear open my chest and get it out. I still do. It’s keeping me alive, but it’s killing me as well. Taking it out is not an option, though. I won’t get another chance. I have to find a way to live with this heart. So yes, I have to acknowledge the evil in this heart. The whole idea scares the shit out of me, if you must know, but I have to confront it. It’s the only way.”
For a long time the only sound in the room was the monitor, beeping out the consistent rhythm of the heart it tracked.
Finally, Eva broke the silence. “There are other questions, too,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Like if I have memories from this heart, what else has it given me? And what did I lose when they took out my own heart?”
Andrew nodded. “I never thought of it like that.”
“I’m right though, aren’t I? There’s more to this than either of us imagined. That’s why I’ve got to go through with it. Whatever the cost, I want to know what I’ve got inside me.”
“Do you think Georgie can help?”
“Yes, I do. She talked to me like a person today, not a freak. Everyone else has been pussyfooting around the issue. Especially the nurses and that bloody psychologist. You know what he said?”
“What?”
“That people make up stuff like inherited memories from donors in order to get attention. He practically accused me of attention-seeking. I didn’t ask for a killer’s heart. He thinks I’ve seen an opportunity to make a buck and I’m doing what I can to exploit my situation. Can you believe that?”
“Do you have to see that psychologist?”
“Yes, it’s part of the condition of my release.”
“I get that, but does it have to be him? Can you ask for a different one?”
The Dark Series Page 23