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Life as I Know It

Page 21

by Melanie Rose


  He brightened visibly at the half promise. “Really?”

  “Maybe… in time,” I repeated. “Now, if you are all ready, we were going to take the children to the cinema, I believe, and we’re going to be late.”

  The children seemed as pleased to see me as I was to see them. Nicole threw her arms around me and told me that she had been playing with Ginny most of the day, but now both the animals were fed, watered, and back in the hutch in the shed. Toby announced he wanted a guinea pig, too, but added that he would make it sit in the cab of his truck or drive his digger. I said I thought he should wait another year until he was a bit better able to look after it.

  I hurriedly emptied the contents of the washing machine into the dryer, realizing that the washing pile was mounting, while Grant was putting on his shoes and Karen was collecting the children’s coats. I felt a tug at my trousers and glanced down to see Teddy grinning up at me. I realized I’d only seen him smile a couple of times before and the sight warmed my heart.

  “We’re going to the cinema,” I told him. “Are you excited?”

  He shrugged and pulled at my trousers more urgently, his ball clutched in his other hand.

  “Do you want to show me something?”

  He nodded.

  I turned the dryer on and followed Teddy into the playroom.

  He dragged me over to the new table and pointed to the picture that he’d drawn. I stared at it and gasped in astonishment.

  “Why, Teddy, is that me?”

  The likeness was uncanny. The picture was unmistakably Lauren, with her features cleverly caught in pencil. The hair had been drawn in yellow and the eyes in green. But they weren’t Lauren’s eyes, they were Jessica’s. My eyes, as I’d first seen them staring out of Lauren’s face in the hospital a week ago.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I checked to see that Grant wasn’t in the room. He might seem unobservant of his wife’s eye color—in fact I wondered how many men, if asked, could say with any certainty the exact color of their wife’s or girlfriend’s eyes—but seeing Teddy’s picture accentuating the greenness might jog some forgotten memory. Grant would almost certainly get a shock if he compared it to the blue of his wife’s eyes in their wedding photo.

  Perhaps I could say I was wearing colored contacts if he challenged me, I thought. I dismissed the idea immediately. Why would I do that? I wondered if there was any documented evidence of people’s eye color changing naturally, maybe even a case of it happening to a lightning-strike victim.

  Teddy was scrutinizing me closely. His grin had faded, replaced by a look of puzzlement.

  “It’s wonderful, Teddy,” I managed rather belatedly. “Really, really good. You are a clever boy.”

  He continued to watch me. I could hear Grant calling us from the hall. Then, very slowly and carefully, Teddy picked up a blue crayon and colored over the portrait’s eyes so that the green was barely visible beneath a sea of blue.

  “Mummy,” he said, pointing at the amended picture.

  “Thank you, Teddy,” I replied. He had drawn a picture of his real mother and not me at all. I took his hand in mine. “That’s much better.”

  The film was a huge success. The children talked excitedly about it and even Grant seemed reasonably content as he drove the packed car homeward.

  “I’ll get the children’s supper and put them to bed if you want to get ready to go out,” Karen volunteered as we sped along.

  “They probably won’t want any supper,” Grant said. “I don’t know why you and Lauren encouraged them to have all that popcorn.”

  “I want Mummy to read the bedtime story when we get home,” Toby announced.

  “Of course I will,” I promised. “We’ll all get ready then I’ll read to you before Daddy and I go out.”

  “Mummy,” Teddy said slowly from the backseat. “Mummy.”

  It sounded as if he were trying the word out, rolling it around his tongue, and I braced myself for what unfortunate revelation might follow.

  “Yes, Teddy?”

  “I like you read my story.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head back on the front passenger seat’s headrest.

  “I will read to both of you before I go out, I promise.”

  Once home, I wallowed in Lauren’s Jacuzzi while Karen gave the children tea. After that, I tried on one or two of Lauren’s fabulous outfits, twirling in front of the mirror in each before selecting a smart pair of black trousers with a clingy long-sleeved top. Next, I sat in front of Lauren’s dressing table and surveyed her cosmetic collection. Her makeup was vastly superior to anything I owned, and I experimented with her foundation and blusher, which were both in shades chosen to complement her English-rose complexion. At home I bought cheaper brands and I needed less foundation on my more youthful skin. Lauren’s Dior eye shadows were in blues and grays, and they looked odd against my eyes. I did my best, however, even though I felt like a small child who had sneaked a try with her mother’s makeup, and the result was far from a disaster. Finishing with blue-tinted mascara and soft pink lipstick, I sat back to scrutinize my face, wishing I’d had more time to play with it all.

  I picked out some pretty costume jewelry, wishing once again that Lauren had pierced ears as I fixed the rather painful clips into place, then I pirouetted in front of her full-length mirror to admire the full ensemble. Lauren’s reflection smiled back at me, and I felt a moment of unease that I had indulged myself so flagrantly at her expense, but there wasn’t time to feel too guilty. Toby was calling for his and Teddy’s bedtime story.

  I read “The Three Billy Goats Gruff” to the boys, then tucked them into their beds. I went to kiss the girls good night and then I presented myself to Grant, who smiled appreciatively.

  “You look great, sweetheart.”

  “Thank you. You look very smart yourself.” He was wearing black trousers, a yellow shirt with a black and gold tie, and a black blazer.

  We climbed into his Mercedes and waved to Karen, who closed the door as we turned out of the driveway.

  “Is it far?”

  He glanced sideways at me. “No. It’s only about fifteen minutes away.”

  I felt sure from Grant’s demeanor that he still wasn’t convinced that I’d lost my entire memory bank. Either that, I decided, or he simply didn’t like to be reminded, each time I asked an innocent question, of the fact that I didn’t remember anything about him.

  We arrived at the restaurant at nine o’clock, and I was thankful for the second time that day that Dan had taken Frankie home with him. By now, I thought, she would have been desperate to be let out—and the evening had hardly begun.

  The Italian restaurant turned out to be very pretty, with pale green tablecloths, crystal glassware, and ornate table decorations. The maître d’ showed us to a table by a window and handed us our menus.

  Grant ordered a bottle of Chablis, and I nudged him and asked if we could have a bottle of mineral water, too. I assumed Lauren must normally drink wine, and while I was happy to have a small glass, I needed water as well.

  When it arrived, the water was sparkling. I liked my water still, just as nature provided it, but I didn’t want to make a fuss, so I sipped at the slightly bitter bubbles and wondered what other compromises I was going to have to make as Lauren.

  Grant turned out to be surprisingly good company. While we were waiting for our starters, he regaled me with humorous anecdotes involving awkward patients he had had to deal with, and I found myself gradually relaxing. By the time the main course arrived I was feeling almost light-headed with the unaccustomed alcohol, and discovered I was enjoying the evening a lot more than I had thought I would.

  Halfway through the main course a couple entered the restaurant and sat at a far table, the woman with her back to me and the man, who was around Lauren’s age with a shock of blond hair, facing in our direction. As my eyes roamed the restaurant behind Grant I realized the man was looking directly at me. My fork wobbled in my hand and
I dropped my gaze immediately. Grant went on talking and I rested my fork on my plate, trying to appear interested in what he was saying, but when I glanced up again the man was still staring and making small eye signals in my direction.

  Oh, please, no, I thought desperately as I tried to concentrate on Grant. Surely I couldn’t be unlucky enough to have run into Lauren’s “other man”?

  chapter twelve

  Throughout the remainder of the meal the man kept sneaking glances at me, until in the end the young woman who was with him turned around to see who was attracting her companion’s attention. She scowled at me and I concentrated more wholeheartedly on my dessert, feeling myself blushing under her hostile scrutiny.

  After coffee I needed to use the ladies’ room. My passage would, of course, take me directly past the other couple’s table, and I held off going until it became absolutely necessary, in the hope that they might finish their meals really quickly and leave the restaurant first.

  They didn’t.

  As I passed their table the man rose to his feet and followed closely on my heels. No sooner had the outer door closed behind us than he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him.

  “Oh God, Lauren!” he choked into my hair. “Why haven’t you contacted me?” I tried to pull away from him, but he held me fast. “I thought you were dead. Why didn’t you answer your mobile? I’ve been leaving message after message, frantic with worry.”

  “Please,” I entreated, while struggling in vain to extract myself from his grasp. “I have no idea who you are.”

  He stepped back as if I’d slapped him. “What are you playing at, Lauren? Don’t do this!”

  At that moment the door opened behind him, and the young woman who had shared his table stood there glaring at me.

  “How dare you make eyes at my husband all evening!” she said indignantly. “Don’t you have a man of your own?”

  Looking desperately from one to the other, I dived for the door marked “ladies,” raced inside, and locked it behind me. Standing there trembling with my back to the door, I tried to collect myself. The woman was shouting at her husband now, telling him she’d had enough of his philandering ways. I decided I might as well use the toilet while I was in there. She hammered on the door once demanding I come out and face her, but when I didn’t respond she must have walked off, because the man’s voice came through the door a moment later, thin and wheedling.

  “Lauren, come out. She’s gone home without me. Please don’t do this, I love you!”

  “Go away,” I said at last. “I don’t know who you are.”

  “It’s all out in the open now,” he continued. “Felicity knows about us. You promised to tell your husband. You were going to leave him. Why have you changed your mind?”

  “I’ve been in the hospital,” I told him through the door. “I don’t remember anything. I’ve lost my memory, so let’s leave it at that. I’m staying with Grant and the children. They need me!”

  “They don’t need you as much as I do,” he countered. “You don’t care about the children anyway, you told me. You said they were driving you mad and that you would come away with me.”

  “No. I wouldn’t leave the children. I don’t believe I ever said that.”

  Not even Lauren would have wanted to leave the children, I thought angrily. This boyfriend of hers must have misunderstood her.

  “You were looking at special homes for that retarded boy of yours,” the man announced suddenly. “As soon as he was taken care of we were going away together. Open the door, Lauren!”

  Angry now, I opened the door to face him.

  “Don’t call him that! And how dare you suggest such a thing! Lauren would never have put Teddy in a home!”

  He stared at me, his mouth dropping open, presumably stunned at my use of Lauren’s name in the third person. “Have you really lost your memory?”

  “Yes, it appears she has,” said a voice behind us.

  Grant was standing in the open doorway, glowering at the other man, then shooting accusing looks at me. He reached around the young man, grabbed my arm, and pulled me out of the door.

  It was almost midnight when Grant parked the Mercedes in the garage and strode around to open my door. We had barely spoken on the way home, but as he helped me out of the car, he suddenly slid his arms around my waist and crushed me against him.

  “Tell me it’s over, for good, and I’ll say nothing more about it,” he murmured. “I still love you, Lauren.”

  I pulled away from him, afraid he’d go back on his word not to touch me.

  “What happened to my mobile phone, Grant?” I demanded. “Did you take it while I was lying unconscious in the hospital? I didn’t even know I had a phone, and all the time you’ve been watching his calls come in, knowing he was worried sick about me!”

  “He had no right to be worried about you. You are my wife.”

  “No wonder you were so suspicious of me. You’ve known all week that some other man existed. What sort of game have you been playing?”

  Grant gripped the tops of my arms with iron fingers. “It is not a game, Lauren. It is my life, the kids’ lives. What did you expect me to do? Was I supposed to give you your phone and say, ‘Oh, by the way, your lover has been ringing you?’ Would you have had me reminding you he was waiting for you to leave us?”

  I shook my head and he loosened his grip. “He said Lauren was planning to put Teddy into a care facility. Is that true?” I asked.

  “Stop talking about yourself in the third person. You’re so melodramatic, Lauren. And no, of course we would never have put one of our children in a home. You might not be the most maternal woman on the planet, but I don’t believe you ever wanted that.”

  We both turned as Karen opened the garage door. “Are you two going to shout at each other all night, or is there any chance I can go to bed without worrying about you?”

  “I’m going to bed right now,” I said, stomping past Grant toward the house. He tried to make a grab for me, but I shook him off.

  “Don’t go, Lauren. We can’t leave it like this. I told you I wouldn’t hold it against you as long as you promise the affair is over. Tell me you don’t love anyone else.”

  I looked at Grant with a pang of guilt at how much he must be hurting, but then I thought of Dan again and realized I couldn’t promise any such thing. How could I ever consider making a commitment to Grant when I loved Dan with all my heart and soul?

  We stared at each other desperately for a second and then I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Grant. I can’t think about this now. I’m going to bed. Good night.”

  I woke up soon after twelve and opened my eyes gingerly, unsure for a brief second which world I was in. Until now, no matter how busy I’d been the previous day in either of my alternate bodies, I had awakened refreshed in the body that had been resting in my absence. Today, however, I felt completely washed out.

  It was a struggle to get out of bed. My mind kept returning to Grant and how hurt he’d looked. I shook the memory away and, after showering and making myself a late lunch, I meandered around the flat looking with new eyes at everything I’d seen from Lauren’s perspective half a day ago. The flat seemed so quiet—not quite the comfortable silence I’d grown used to and taken for granted since moving out of Stephen’s place, but the hush of a void that seemed suddenly unfillable. Today, everything about my life seemed shallow and insular. I knew it wasn’t, of course: I had my job, Clara and my other friends, Frankie, and now Dan. Perhaps it was Frankie’s absence that was making me feel morose, I thought, as I picked up her favorite squeaky toy and stared at it forlornly.

  Shoving the plastic bone to one side, I grabbed the phone and dialed my parents’ number. Mum answered on the second ring.

  “Hi, Mum.”

  “How are you, darling?”

  “I’m a lot better, thanks. I’ve had a couple of days off work but I’ll go back in on Monday.”

  “I’m glad to hear you’re being se
nsible. Are you sure you don’t want your dad and me to come up?”

  I pictured her looking at her diary, wondering if she could fit a visit in between the craft fair and the village jam-making competition. “No, I’m fine. Feeling sorry for myself, that’s all.”

  We chatted for a few minutes before she bid me good-bye. “I’d better go, Jessica; your father’s waiting for his lunch. We’re a bit late, what with one thing and another.”

  “Okay, Mum, give my love to Dad. Take care.”

  As I replaced the receiver, I felt a bitter desolation envelope me. Even my parents seemed to have more going on in their lives than I would normally have, if it weren’t for my other life as Lauren.

  The temptation to sit hugging my knees in misery was overwhelming. I told myself I was being silly. The last week had been such an emotional and physical whirlwind that I was bound to be feeling insecure and somewhat drained.

  Dragging bedding out of the cupboard, I decided to put clean sheets on the bed. There was plenty to keep me busy, I told myself severely, even without Frankie or the legal work I normally brought home at weekends. After pummeling my pillow energetically and fighting to get the duvet into its cover for ten minutes I felt decidedly better.

  My next task was to take the car to the supermarket and load up with a week’s supply of groceries. It took me only half an hour to fill my cart, pay, and have everything loaded into the back of my little car. I’d added six bottles of Guinness for Dan and his father to my purchases, and these I placed carefully on the backseat before heading in the direction of Dan’s house.

  As I drew up to his driveway I was disappointed to see that Dan’s car wasn’t there.

  I rang on the doorbell anyway, and waited while Patrick shuffled down the hall to answer the door. When I saw him again in the daylight I was struck by how like Dan he looked. He was thinner and slower, and his hair was gray, but the facial structure was the same, and he was still good-looking even for a man in his seventies. The most telling feature, though, was his eyes—a penetrating blue with a mischievous twinkle that probably accounted for him having been married several times.

 

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