Each Day I Wake: A gripping psychological thriller: US Edition

by Seb Kirby

  EACH DAY I WAKE

  Seb Kirby is the author of the James Blake Thriller series (TAKE NO MORE, REGRET NO MORE and FORGIVE NO MORE), the Raymond Bridges sci fi thriller series (DOUBLE BIND) and now the psychological thriller EACH DAY I WAKE. An avid reader from an early age - his grandfather ran a mobile lending library in Birmingham - he was hooked from the first moment he discovered the treasure trove of books left to his parents. He was a university academic for many years, latterly at University of Liverpool. Now, as a full-time writer, his goal is to add to the magic of the wonderful words and stories he discovered back then. He lives in the Wirral, UK.

  By the same author

  James Blake Series

  TAKE NO MORE

  REGRET NO MORE

  FORGIVE NO MORE

  Raymond Bridges Series

  DOUBLE BIND

  Seb Kirby

  EACH DAY

  I WAKE

  First published September 2015 (US Edition)

  © Seb Kirby, 2015

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the author as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and the publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  This eBook is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, businesses, organizations, events and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To Brian, Kate and Leo

  Part One

  CHAPTER 1

  I opened my eyes.

  It felt like someone else had opened them.

  My lungs were on fire. Each breath a screech of pain.

  This broken body, pushed almost beyond repair, wouldn’t let me move except to raise my head from the pillow and snatch a glance around before the agony of this simple action overtook me and I collapsed once more.

  The room was cool and white. The light above was clinical.

  Where was I?

  I touched the pristine sheets.

  I was in a hospital bed.

  Why was I here?

  How long had I been here?

  I realized then that I knew the answer to none of these questions. And that there was another question I was afraid to ask.

  Who am I?

  CHAPTER 2

  He told me his name was Josh Healey and that he was a clinician attached to the Trauma Ward.

  “It’s good to see you’re looking stronger today.”

  “You mean you’re surprised I’ve made it.”

  “Don’t think that way. But if you mean you were badly injured, close to death, then I’d have to say yes.”

  I struggled to understand. “What happened?”

  “You don’t recall?”

  “There’s nothing. Nothing. Until I wake up here.”

  “They pulled you out of the water, from North Dock at Canary Wharf. A near drowning.”

  “Some kind of accident?”

  “No, you’d been beaten, before you entered the water. That’s the cause of the bruising and swelling to your arms, chest and abdomen.” He looked away. “Best not to dwell on that now. You’ve been in deep shock. But you’re now in recovery. The coldness of the water helped, I’m sure. Slowed the possibility of neurological damage. And we’ve restored your electrolyte balance. Your prognosis is good.”

  “How long have I been here?”

  He looked at the chart. “Three days.”

  “And where is here?”

  He smiled to reassure me. “We’re a few miles away from Canary Wharf, in Hammersmith Hospital.”

  “What was I doing there, at Canary Wharf?”

  “That’s what we’re hoping you’ll tell us. Once you’re better.” He took a step back. “No need to worry about this now, build your strength, give it time.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Then it came.

  The first memory.

  Clear, straight from nowhere, like a bright light piercing the darkness.

  I’m seeing it, living it. It’s me, looking on, seeing myself doing all this.

  I’m with a woman.

  She’s young, just turned nineteen, pretty.

  Cathy.

  Smart, sexy.

  We’re talking about our meeting in a pub and how I brought her to this place.

  This dark room with wood paneled walls covered with books.

  Making love to her.

  My adultery.

  No, I’m not that kind of person. Not the kind to lie to my wife.

  I have a wife.

  I have a wife.

  Yet here I am with Cathy.

  Something intense. Something I don’t want to see. Something I don’t want to have to recall.

  My hands round her throat, squeezing the life out of her. Watching her body go limp.

  CHAPTER 4

  I was visited by a young uniformed police officer who sat by the bed and told me her name was Police Constable Daley. PC Daley.

  She looked too young, her uniform too crisp, as if she was on her first assignment since leaving police college.

  She opened a notepad and asked for my name. I took in her look of surprise when I told her I didn’t know.

  “All I know is what the hospital tells me. I can’t recall anything before coming round here, in this bed, in this hospital. I need you to find what happened and who I am.”

  “We’re doing everything we can to help, sir. But it may take time if you’re unable to tell us anything.”

  “All I’ve been told is I was found in the North Dock, a near drowning.”

  She looked back at her notes. “You were pulled out by a colleague, sir. He gave you CPD. Saved your life.”

  “And it was chance that he found me?”

  “Not quite. Someone called.”

  “Who?”

  “They wouldn’t leave a name. An anonymous call.” She paused. “We need your help to find out how and why this happened to you.”

  “I don’t know the how. And before you ask, I don’t know the why. I don’t know how I ended up in the water. There’s nothing I can remember that will help you.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “ID. Did you find any ID when you rescued me?”

  She stopped writing in the notebook. “That’s the thing. We found nothing. No mobile phone. No wallet or driver’s license. You were picked clean.”

  “But you must have witnesses?”

  “We don’t. We don’t know where you first entered the water. You could have floated for some distance before washing up where we found you.”

  I began to understand why they’d sent someone this junior to take a statement. If there were no witnesses and if I was unable to provide them with any other information, the police had nothing to go on.

  “So, you’re no nearer to finding who did this? Who beat me, stripped me clean, dumped me in the water?”

  She made a point of staring down at the notepad once more, even though she had nothing more that needed to be added there. “We’re doing all we can, sir.”

  As she was about to close the notebook, she paused. “One more thing, sir. The hospital tests showed high levels of narcotics in your blood. What do you know about that?”

  CHAPTER 5

  Mr. Healey returned ne
xt day.

  I told him again about my loss of memory. That I had no recollection of how I came to be here, that I didn’t know who I was.

  He was quick to reassure me. “It’s nothing you should be concerned about. With the physical damage you suffered, it’s not uncommon for the mind shut down, to save the body, to minimize the trauma. As your body recovers, you should recall more of what happened.”

  He was trying to be helpful but what he was saying was having the opposite effect. “You mean I might never recall who I am?”

  He came closer and sat on the edge of the bed. “I was going to leave this for another time, when you’re stronger. You see, amnesia is not uncommon in cases like this. It may take time for you to recover your long-term memory, after all you’ve been through. But things will get better from day to day as you build a new stock of memories. They’ll be the key to allowing you to unlock the past. You recall, don’t you, being here in the hospital yesterday and perhaps the day before?”

  I nodded. “But nothing about who I am, where I come from.”

  His voice remained calming. “As I said, don’t worry. Take it one step at a time.”

  He paused to take a call on his phone.

  I could tell the call was about me from the way he kept glancing towards me as he answered.

  When he’d finished he gave a broad smile. “We’ve found your wife. Janet. Janet Markland. She’s waiting outside. Do you feel strong enough to see her?”

  I couldn’t wait. “Of course.”

  I should have felt elated at the prospect of seeing her, the most important person in my life, but all I could feel was fear that she wouldn’t know me, that there had been some kind of mistake and I’d be back where I was, alone and unknown.

  I was trying not to hope too much when she just came in and embraced me.

  She was sobbing with relief. “Tom. I thought I’d lost you and I’d never see you again. It was breaking my heart.” She kissed me. “But now I have you back and I’m never going to lose you again.”

  I was trying to tell myself that I knew her, that I recognized her. But the joy of this wouldn’t come. I wanted to believe. I had to believe.

  I wanted to return her kiss but the pain of moving was too great. “How did you find me?”

  Her voice was soft. There was a cadence in the way her voice rose and fell that I was sure was familiar to me. “The police. They matched the photo of you here with their reports of missing persons. Until then, they weren’t looking in London.”

  “Where do we live?’

  “In Lichfield.”

  “How long have I been missing?”

  “Ten days.”

  “That long?”

  “Don’t worry about that now. All that matters is I’ve found you.”

  Janet stayed at my bedside.

  When I woke from sleep in the middle of the night, she was still there, holding my hand, watching over me.

  “I can’t wait ‘til you’re strong enough to come home. Where you belong.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Another memory. Returning.

  Like the first, clear, out of nowhere. I’m looking on, looking out, seeing these things I’m doing.

  Am I asleep? Dreaming?

  My eyes are open, staring at the overhead light.

  This is no dream.

  I’m with another girl. She’s telling me her name is Rebecca.

  Long, slim, raven-haired. Twenty.

  We’re talking about our time out on the river, on one of those boats that cruise the Thames at night. The way the moon shone, making silver rivulets on the water.

  We’re happy together. She laughs. She smiles.

  We’re in that dark library space.

  We’re making love.

  Another adultery. I’m being unfaithful to Janet again.

  This can’t be me.

  I feel the dread of what might happen next. What I will recall next.

  I feel the chill of knowing that I will kill again.

  I see the death mask of her face as I squeeze the life out of her, my hands tight around her throat. Just as with Cathy.

  Watching the life leave her.

  CHAPTER 7

  I looked beside me.

  Janet was there with me, holding my hand, caring for me.

  How could I tell her what I’d just seen?

  I turned these thoughts away, pretending they were a dream. “You’re still here. Been here all night?”

  Her voice was warm, reassuring. “As if I’d be going anywhere.”

  “Tell me who I am.”

  She didn’t show surprise. Mr. Healey must have been talking with her, telling her about the long road I needed to travel. “Where do you want to begin?”

  “At the beginning.”

  Janet told me my name is Tom Markland. By next month we’ll have been married for five years. I’m a reporter, working for The Herald, making a name for myself as an investigative journalist. We don’t have children yet, though we’re trying.

  It sounded as if she was speaking about someone else. But I trusted her. She was all I had. It must be me. I had to listen and learn these things about myself. Then, and only then, would I find a way to recall it all.

  “Where do we live?”

  She didn’t show any surprise at my question. “I told you that, dear. In Lichfield.” She paused and squeezed my hand. “Mr. Healey says you’re making good physical progress since they admitted you and you can go home in a few days provided you take complete rest. You can see the house then. It will help you piece things together.”

  I held on to those words.

  CHAPTER 8

  Janet travelled with me in the ambulance that took me home.

  To Lichfield. Lombard Street. A Georgian property not far from the cathedral. It had a high-walled garden with fruit trees, flowers and a small summer-house nestling under an ancient elm, an old deck chair beneath it. I lay in bed, raising my head high enough to look out through the window, and tried to imagine myself sitting in that deck chair, feeling that I belonged. But the thoughts of belonging wouldn’t come.

  My body hurt. I knew it would mend. Putting my mind back together would take longer.

  Janet was doing her best to fill in the gaps, telling me more about our life together. How we met while out running in Beacon Park. How she’d been the first to speak.

  She smiled. “I just about picked you up. But I knew you were the one the moment I first saw you.”

  I tried to recall it but I didn’t remember it at all.

  She continued. “It was springtime. And raining. I slipped. You came over to see if I was all right. And I made sure you wouldn’t just go on by asking you to run with me for awhile, until I was sure I was OK.”

  I held her hand. I wanted to believe this was the way it was. “Yes, I remember. I do remember. The park. The rain.”

  She kissed me. “You see, you will recall it all.”

  But I didn’t and I feared I never would.

  How could I tell her that the only memories I had were of being unfaithful to her and of killing those girls?

  How could I tell her what I recalled about the real me.

  The one who had been unfaithful to her.

  The one who had killed more than once.

  CHAPTER 9

  Next day Janet began to take me through my life.

  Where I went to school.

  My friends there.

  She had photographs downloaded to her tablet and she showed them to me. “Class 11, Nottinghamshire High. You’re the spotty one at the back.” She pointed at the screen. “You see this lad at the front?”

  “The blonde-haired one?”

  “That’s Bill Everett. He was best man at our wedding.”

  I searched the young Bill Everett’s face but I didn’t recognize him.

  She stroked the screen. A photograph of our wedding. She pointed again. “Here’s Bill again at our reception. He gave the funniest speech about what you and he go
t up to as students. Made my mother blush.”

  I inspected Bill’s face once more. Likable. Intelligent looking. But no one I could say I’d ever seen before this moment.

  I tried to reassure Janet. “Yes. Bill Everett. What’s he doing now?”

  “He’s a journalist, like you. Comes from you both studying Politics at Essex, I’m sure.”

  I tried to recall being there, studying, taking exams, being the radical student - but nothing came.

  She stroked the screen again. “Your parents. At the wedding. John and Maggie.”

  I stared at the screen, hoping this would be the moment when I started to reconnect with my past, but I had to admit to myself that I might as well have been looking at two strangers. “They look happy.”

  “And so they were. Happy for their son.”

  “Can I meet them?”

  She looked down. “I thought twice about showing them to you, Tom. But Mr. Healey told me it would be better for you to know. They both died. A car crash on the M6. They were cut from the wreckage but they couldn’t be saved.”

  “I’m an only child?”

  “No, you have a sister. Marianne.” Janet stroked the screen and there was a sunlit Marianne, wearing shades, big wide smile.

  “When can I meet her?”

  “She lives in Florida. Out on the Keys. Married to Alan, a health drinks franchise owner. They have three children. She’s trying to find a way to get over here, told me she’s anxious to see you.”

  I was learning everything that Janet was telling me, building a picture of who I was.

  But none of it felt like me.

  CHAPTER 10

  That night.

  Lying in bed next to Janet.

  Wide awake.