by Melanie Rose
I remembered the vicar of my childhood telling us that Jesus was in every one of us. Okay, I reasoned, blowing a pile of bubbles gently to one side. If Jesus was part of that force, then maybe the vicar had been right. If all living things were part of it, returning to the main collective energy source when they died, to be reborn as the life force of another living being, we were all connected, all part of the same energy, all part of one another and God. But according to some intricate, sublime design or accident that I didn’t understand, I was now not only a part of Lauren, I actually was Lauren.
“I don’t want to be her!” I shouted defiantly, closing my eyes as I slid down under the bubbles. “Lauren’s dead. I don’t want to do this anymore!”
Even from under the water I could hear Frankie whining and pawing at the bathroom door. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed in, and she seemed to have sensed my despairing mood. I felt a deep warmth rush through my body and I pushed myself upward, the water streaming from my hair. This wasn’t something I could run away from, I told myself severely. I was made of stronger stuff than this. The flow of time and space might be fluid, but that didn’t mean there was no pattern to our earthly lives.
Suppose somewhere in the electrical crackling of the universe, the Almighty had wanted Lauren’s children saved from the anguish of losing her? Who was I to question why she had died and why I was there instead? The children needed a mother, and I was beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, I might need them.
Climbing out of the bath, I wrapped myself in a soft towel hot from the radiator and opened the door to Frankie, who bounded in sniffing at my clean legs and whining as the water growled down the drain. I patted her silky head and felt much more positive about things. I didn’t feel quite so alone. Not only had I reminded myself that I was part of a much bigger picture, but I could see that on a practical level I had a newfound ally in Karen. Between us, we would handle Grant and I would learn how to be a mother to his children, if not his wife. It seemed to me that this was to be my destiny.
Sleep came more easily to me that evening than I had imagined, and soon I was waking in Lauren’s bed to the sound of Elsie vacuuming the carpet outside the bedroom door on Friday morning.
A quick, invigorating shower washed every trace of Grant’s touch from Lauren’s body. I peeled off the wet bandages and decided to forget the doctor’s appointment I’d promised myself because, as Karen had noticed yesterday, the injury seemed to have healed miraculously quickly on its own. All that was left of the burn was a patch of inflamed, angry-looking skin, and there was no sign of blisters or infection.
I dressed and made my way downstairs to find Karen and the children in the kitchen making pancakes.
“Mummy!” Nicole cried, flinging her arms around me and burying her head against the soft material of my skirt. “Can we take down the table thing you bought for Ginny and Blackie’s hutch? Can we put them in the shed today?”
“I’m sure we can,” I laughed, bending to kiss the top of her shining head.
“Auntie Karen has put up the board you bought yesterday for our pictures,” Sophie told me with a smile. “Come and see.” I gave her my hand and allowed her to drag me into the playroom, where the large board now hung on the center of the wall.
“Can we put our pictures on it?” she asked, watching me as if she thought I might suddenly change my mind.
“Of course. What happened to the pins we bought? Ah, thank you, Toby. Right, Teddy’s picture first, I think!”
I soon had the children’s drawings pinned up and immediately the playroom took on a more cheerful air. “Now, let’s finish those pancakes,” I said, chasing the girls and Toby back to the kitchen.
Teddy was already sitting at the breakfast bar pouring syrup on his pancake. He looked up when I ruffled his hair and grinned lopsidedly at me. I noticed that his ball was on the floor beside him rather than on his lap. It was the first time I’d seen it out of his grasp.
Karen had noticed, too, and we smiled at each other, acknowledging the change.
I was feeling happy and more comfortable being Lauren this morning, despite what had happened last night, and was about to suggest that we set up the new playroom table with the paints when Grant appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Lauren, would you come here a minute?”
I must have looked frightened, because he was immediately contrite.
“I’m not going to hurt you, for goodness’ sake!”
I glanced at Karen and she nodded, so I followed him reluctantly out into the hallway.
“I had a chat with your sister this morning,” he began hesitantly. I noticed he was cracking his knuckles nervously, but he saw me watching and thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “She has explained to me what it must be like for you, losing your memory and everything. I don’t think I realized how difficult it has been for you. To me, you’re just the wife I’ve been married to for the last ten years. And I’ve been reluctant to believe you’ve really lost all your memories…”
“You’ve made that patently clear,” I retorted before I could stop myself.
He held up his hand. “But Karen has made me understand that I really am like a complete stranger to you, and that we need to get to know each other all over again.”
He stared at one of the paintings on the wall as if he’d never seen it before, then dragged his gaze back to me. “What I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved. I drank much too much, which was inexcusable, and I’ve been clumsy and insensitive. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me? I want you to know that until your memory comes back, or we get to know each other again, I won’t be bothering you… in that way.”
“Well, it’s a start,” I said woodenly, trying to keep the relief out of my voice.
“I thought, maybe, we could try again. Perhaps we could go somewhere today, just the two of us?”
I reminded myself I had resolved to make a commitment to this family for the sake of the children and decided not to throw the olive branch back in his face. “It would be good for the children if we spent the day as a family,” I said carefully.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple working up and down.
“That wasn’t really what I had in mind. I mean, where could we go that the whole family would be happy with?”
“What about a farm, you know, one that’s open to the public? The girls seem to like animals and these places usually have play equipment and things.”
Grant paled.
“I’m not sure I can cope with animals, Lauren. They’re so dirty and smelly.”
“What do you suggest then?”
“I hadn’t thought that far. I thought it might be just the two of us.”
“I want to go to a farm,” Sophie said from the kitchen doorway.
Grant turned to look at his daughter and raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s been eavesdropping, I think.”
“I want to go where Mummy said,” Sophie replied stubbornly.
“I think we should let Daddy decide,” I said.
Sophie scowled at her father, turned her back, and flounced away into the kitchen.
“Look, you and Karen can take them to the farm,” Grant said wearily, turning away as if it were all too much for him. “I’ve got work to catch up on.”
“I think we should all have that day out,” I said, warming to the notion. “It was a good idea, Grant. And it doesn’t have to be a farm. Sophie can’t always have her own way, and she shouldn’t have been eavesdropping anyway.”
Grant appeared somewhat surprised and mildly pleased by my support. But then he looked pointedly at his watch. “I said I might pop into the practice again today anyway. The locum isn’t working out too well. You and Karen go ahead and take them to the farm.”
He leaned over to kiss me, and I forced myself to stand my ground and accept the peck on my cheek despite the feelings of panic I felt at his closeness. He was a good-looking man, and in differ
ent circumstances I might have been attracted to him. I quelled a pang of guilt about not having accepted the offer of a day out with him. I knew he had been trying to make amends for his behavior the previous night, but the thought of being alone with him filled me with trepidation.
I leaned against the wall when he had gone, drained by all the emotional upheaval. What he’d done the night before was unforgivable, but then he had thought I was his wife, after all. And he was the father of the children. Closing my eyes, I allowed my mind to touch on the question of how far I would be prepared to go to make this family work. Could Grant ever mean anything to me in the romantic sense? At the moment I certainly didn’t think so, but these were early days. Perhaps I had hardly given him a fair chance.
There wasn’t much time to dwell on my shortcomings as a wife, however, as Karen was calling from the kitchen and I was sucked swiftly back into the daily whirlwind that had been Lauren’s life. At home all I had to think about were Frankie and myself, I thought ruefully, as I wiped syrup off the counters and loaded the dishwasher. As Jessica I cooked simple meals for one, did my washing once a week, and visited my parents once a month. And I went to the cinema or the theater with Clara or clubbing with the rest of our group of friends whenever I wanted, whereas as Lauren I’d have to fit any sort of social life around the children’s bath and bedtime story.
I thought again of how intolerant I’d been of some of my friends’ domestic problems and groaned. I supposed now I’d be at the mercy of babysitters who might or might not show up. I fell to wondering how Lauren had ever helped out at Grant’s dental practice, when one of the children might be ill, or couldn’t go to school for any reason. If I stayed here as Lauren indefinitely, and refused to employ a full-time nanny, I didn’t see how I could ever leave this house again.
My working hours at Chisleworth & Partners suddenly seemed very tame, I thought half an hour later, as I stepped around Elsie’s vacuum cleaner with an armload of dirty laundry and hurried down to load the washing machine. Elsie had changed the children’s bedding and piled the dirty sheets and duvet covers onto the clothes I’d gathered off their bedroom floors. At a rough guess I reckoned there were at least five loads of washing to get through today alone.
“Mummy, when are we going to move the hutches to the shed?” Nicole asked as I passed her, dropping socks and vests from the pile as I hurried to the utility room.
“As soon as the washing is in.”
“I want to play in the sandbox,” Toby whined, jumping up and down. “Can I go out now?”
“Yes, go on, Toby. Close the door behind you.”
“I thought we were going to the farm,” Sophie reminded me.
“We’ll go at lunchtime and get something to eat there,” I told her as I shoved sheets into the machine and closed the door.
I looked around as I hurried into the playroom and saw Teddy sitting on one of the beanbags. He was rocking to and fro, talking silently to himself again. I went and crouched down beside him, noticing that he still had pancake syrup on his chin.
“Would you like to draw again, Teddy?”
He gazed up at me as if only just registering my presence, so I stood up and fetched the drawing pencils and paints and put them on the new table.
“Come and draw something,” I coaxed. “You did such a lovely picture yesterday. Look, Teddy, I’ve put it up on the wall.”
His gaze wandered to the peg board and stopped at his picture. His eyes widened slightly and I thought I detected a faint smile.
“Come on. We need lots of lovely pictures to make the room look colorful.”
Teddy got up and shambled over to the table, then sat down on one of the blue plastic chairs I’d bought and put his ball on the table next to him. I watched as he picked up a crayon and bent his head over the paper, then I slipped quietly back to the kitchen to find Nicole standing impatiently with her hands on her hips.
“Can we go and move the hutch now, Mummy?”
I groaned. I’d thought Stephen’s demands on my time at Chisleworth & Partners could be exhausting, but trying to balance the needs of this family was like organizing a military operation. Putting things into perspective, however, I realized that although I felt I was being run ragged, each child was only requiring a reasonable amount of my time. It was when everyone’s needs had to be considered simultaneously, while I was also planning ahead for the next meal, the next event, the next day, that I felt completely overwhelmed.
I took a deep breath and looked out the window at the thin autumn sunshine. You can do this, I told myself firmly as I hurried off to find a jacket. Returning a moment later, I squared my shoulders and gave a bright smile. “Okay, Nicole, let’s go.”
Karen pulled on a shaggy cream and gray jacket above a black ankle-length skirt that had metal rings hanging on it and clumpy Doc Martens–style boots. She lifted the other end of the new wooden folding table and followed us outside.
“There were two phone calls while you were asleep,” she informed me as we walked down the garden behind Nicole, who was jumping around like an excited colt. “One was from a woman reminding you that Sophie is supposed to be sleeping over at her daughter’s house this evening.”
“Did you take a name and directions?” I asked anxiously over my shoulder.
She nodded. “Yes, it sounded easy enough, and Sophie seems happy to go.”
I could hear the hesitation in her voice and glanced around at her anxiously.
“And the other one?”
“Was from a man. He wouldn’t give his name. He just asked if you were okay, and when I told him you were recovering, but asleep, he hung up.”
I grimaced.
“Sounds like it might be the man from the park.”
She nodded again. “That’s what I thought.”
We’d arrived at the gap in the conifers, and Karen gasped, staring round her. “I didn’t know this section of the garden existed! It’s almost as big as the back lawn.”
I grinned as I let the table down. “I know. Wonderful, isn’t it?”
“Look at my digger, Auntie Karen,” Toby called. “I’m making roads and a tunnel.”
I left Karen bending over the sandbox and went to the toolshed. I was about to open the door when it opened of its own accord and an elderly man came out with a rake in his gnarled hands.
“Mornin’, Mrs. Richardson,” he said. “Looks like someone’s been having fun and games down here.”
“The children needed something to do,” I said with a smile. “I hope you don’t mind if you have to share the toolshed with the rabbit hutch. It’s getting rather cold at night to keep them outside.”
“It’s your shed, missus,” he said, walking off through the conifers.
The next two hours passed in a blur of hutch moving, pegging washing on the clothesline, reloading the machine, and dispensing drinks and cookies to the children and coffee for Karen, myself, and Jim. Teddy spilled some of the newly purchased children’s paint on the playroom floor and went into a fit of hysteria, apparently thinking he was going to be smacked, but I cleaned it all up and assured him that accidents were bound to happen.
At twelve o’clock, despite the fact that my shoulder was beginning to feel quite sore again, we all bundled into the car and Karen and the children guided me on the twenty-minute journey to an open farm. Once there, we started our visit by trooping into the old barn restaurant for filled jacket potatoes and cola drinks. The afternoon passed in a pleasant haze of feeding animals with paper bags full of sheep nuts, petting the small animals, watching the children play on the hay bales and pushing Teddy endlessly on the swing in the children’s playground.
“Do you know, Karen,” I commented as I swung Teddy back and forth, being careful to use only my good right arm,” I think we ought to have a swing at home. I mentioned it to Sophie when I first saw the size of the back garden. Teddy obviously loves it, and if we get one of those big contraptions with more than one swing and a glider thing, they won�
�t have to fight for a turn.”
Karen turned to check on where the other children had gotten to, and seeing they were out of earshot, she said quietly, “You know, sis, I can understand that your memory was wiped by that lightning strike, but the strange thing is that your whole personality seems to have changed. All these years and you wouldn’t let them have a swing in the garden, and now you’re suggesting it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’m not criticizing, believe me. I like the new you. But, I mean, didn’t you say the hospital had referred you for some therapy? Don’t you think you should go and talk to someone? They can’t have intended for you to just walk out of there so completely changed, with no backup or anything.”
“Yeah, I’ve got that appointment for next week,” I replied, shoving the swing high into the air with Teddy hanging on tightly. “I’m to talk to someone in the psychiatric clinic. I’ve got the details somewhere.” I took a deep breath and kept up the rhythmic pushing of the swing. “The thing is, I don’t want to go. I’m happy as I am, Karen, and I think the children are happy, too.”
“Last night,” Karen continued in a low voice, “when Grant was trying… you know. You told him you weren’t Lauren. I heard you.”
“I meant I can’t remember being Lauren,” I said, keeping my eyes firmly on the back of Teddy’s Wellington boots as they came and went.
“What I don’t understand,” she went on, “is why you have changed so dramatically. Just because you lost your memories of who you were before, it doesn’t mean you’re not actually still the person you were before. I mean, how come you suddenly don’t mind handling animals? You hated them before, Lauren. What has changed that? And what about your newfound attentiveness to the children? I don’t mean to be unkind, but the Lauren I grew up with was selfish and vain. As long as she looked good and did what she wanted when she wanted, she was happy. How can you have altered so much?”
