The Meant to Be Collection

by Claire Highton-Stevenson

  “Of course, it’s October the 14th.”

  He wrote it down on his pad. “Okay, great, and can you tell me where you work?”

  She squinted at him. What kind of ridiculous questions were these, anyway? “I don’t have a job right now, I just left the army and I am in the process of getting a permanent job.”

  He scribbled away again. “And your address is?”

  She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Look, I feel fine. I just want to go home.”

  “And you can, as soon as you can tell me where home is.” His charming smile was losing its appeal.

  “Fine, flat C, 202, Milton Court.”

  He nodded to himself and then stood up again. “I’ll be right back.”

  She let herself sink back into the pillows and winced a little at the bruising. “Great,” she muttered. “This is just great.” How was she supposed to get a job in this state? Her eyes felt heavy again, so she let them close. She must have drifted off, because it felt like hours had passed. Confusion struck, however, when she looked up at the clock and realised it had been mere minutes.

  “Hey, you’re awake?” A familiar voice caused her to turn her head to the left.

  “Robin, how did you get here?”

  Robin leant forward and took Brooke’s hand. “Miss Blake came and got me.” She looked concerned as she stared down at her sister. “She said you hit your head and you can’t remember stuff?”

  “Pftt, I can remember stuff. I’m just a bit murky on a few things. What day is it?”

  “December 3rd,” Robin answered instantly. “The doctors think it’s just a bad concussion, but they’re concerned that it might be a retrograde…” She thought for the word. “Amnesia?”

  Brooke nodded slowly and looked around the room, trying to gather her thoughts. “December 3rd? So, I’ve lost 6 weeks of my life, of my memory?”

  Her sister nodded. “I think so. But they said it might come back.”

  Brooke tried to sit up and winced again. “Who is Miss Blake? A new teacher?” she asked, grabbing the remote and moving the bed back into a seated position.

  Robin laughed out loud. “No, you…” And then she remembered how hurt Brooke had been about the whole thing. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she forgot about it. “…work with her,” she said quietly.

  Brooke rubbed her head and let her cheek rest on her palm once she was done. Blowing out a breath, she asked, “So, I got a job?” As she spoke, the door opened again, and a woman entered. A beautiful woman in a white dress. In any other situation, she might have taken Brooke’s breath away.

  “Yes, you work at Pollards.” The woman spoke confidently, but the smile was shy, as though she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do.

  Brooke held her stare and tried a smile of her own. She looked familiar, but Brooke couldn’t quite place her. “Miss Blake?”

  Catherine turned to Robin. “I thought they said she couldn’t remember?”

  “She can’t,” Robin said without looking back at the woman.

  “You’re the angel?” Brooke finally worked out why the woman looked familiar.

  “I’m the…”

  Brooke scoffed at how silly that had sounded. “Never mind, So, I work at Pollards?”

  Catherine slowly released the breath she had been holding, “Yes, and of course, you don’t have to worry about anything while you are in need of medical attention. Pollards has a very good insurance policy and maintains an outstanding record…”

  “So, I’m getting paid while I am injured?”

  “Of course, hurt in the line of duty as they say.”

  Brooke sighed, feeling relief that at least something was going her way at last. “Okay, so when can I go home?”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The stark bright white walls and the overhead strip lighting were enough to give anyone a migraine, let alone someone with a concussion. Surprisingly, the painkillers were knocking the edge off the pain; even the bruising down her back didn’t feel as awful now.

  She had managed to go to the toilet by herself, although Robin had had to undo the button on her trousers for her. It was a test. She had walked up some steps unaided; another test. There were no fractures in any of the x-rays. The only concern now was the concussion and the memory loss. Neither of which did Brooke see as reasons why she couldn’t go home.

  “I’d really rather you had someone with you for a couple of days at the very least,” Dr Rishne explained from the edge of the bed, where he had perched himself. “Retrograde amnesia is a very serious thing.”

  “That’s all well and good, but there isn’t anyone, so…I’m a big girl doc, been in the army.”

  He smiled at that, but continued. “I’m just concerned, if you forgot to turn off the gas for instance.”

  Sitting back in the uncomfortable armchair, Robin piped up. “I can look after her.”

  Shaking her head, Brooke regretted the movement in an instant. “No, you need to go to school, I’ll be fine.”

  “I really would advise…”

  “I can do it.” All heads turned towards the voice in the corner. “I can take leave, God knows I have enough of it left to take this year. The office will run fine without me. How difficult can it be?” When she finally finished speaking, she wondered if she was trying to persuade the doctors, Brooke, or herself. She avoided looking at Robin. She could feel the glare being sent her way.

  Brooke clapped excitedly and pointed towards Catherine. “There, see, so we’re sorted then? Can I go home?”

  ~FI~

  “I’ll just go fetch the car,” Catherine said, smiling awkwardly. Robin continued to glare, her arms wrapped around her torso to keep warm. It was cold outside the hospital entrance, an arctic blast of wind doing nothing to help.

  Brooke smiled at her from the wheelchair they insisted she use. “Hey, thanks, but we’re cool from here. Robin can call a cab.”

  Catherine clearly looked confused. “I thought that I was…”

  “Look, I’m not going to hold you to that. You don’t even know me. The last thing you need is to be stuck with a stranger for a couple of days. I’ll be fine, honestly.” She tried to stand up and almost fell over. Pain shot up her spine and she quickly became lightheaded.

  Catherine and Robin both grabbed for an arm. “Woah, Sis, come on, at least let her take us home. It’s the least she can do.” She glared at Catherine as she spoke, but thankfully Brooke missed the unease between them.

  “Fine.” Brooke waved them both off. She was in too much pain and too cold to argue about it. “Fine. Robin, go with her, it’s too cold to be standing here. I’m alright, I’ve got the blanket.”

  Robin huffed, but she didn’t argue; it was cold. Plus, she had a few things she wanted to say to Ms Blake now that she knew Brooke was okay.

  Catherine searched her bag and pulled a set of keys out ready. “Won’t be long.” She pulled her coat collar tighter around her face in an effort to ward off the freezing wind.

  Robin waited until they were out of Brooke’s earshot. She glanced back to make sure that Brooke wasn’t watching before she turned and glared again. “Why are you doing this? It’s a little mean, don’t you think?”

  “Actually, I thought it was a nice thing to do,” Catherine replied offhandedly.

  “Really? What, to flaunt yourself around her just so you can tell her to get lost again?”

  Catherine stopped in her tracks. “Sometimes there is more to a story than you know,” she offered simply before continuing on with her stride.

  Robin doubled her speed to keep up. “If you’re going to do this, then you need to make sure that she doesn’t remember you.”

  Catherine glanced at her before turning back to check for cars so they could cross the road safely.

  “You didn’t see her,” Robin continued with her protest, “It really hurt her the way you treated her. She didn’t deserve that, and it wasn’t even her fault. She didn’t know what me and Jas were going to do.
She didn’t send us.”

  The older woman listened, but she remained silent. They were at her car, and all she wanted right now was to be warm. Robin would just have to suck it up. She hit the alarm button and the car doors unlocked with a loud click, indicators flashing orange. “Get in.”

  The stroppy teen yanked the door open and flounced in. “I’m just saying, if you have no intention of seeing her again, then don’t bring it up, don’t remind her about it.”

  “Alright,” Catherine snapped. “Now belt up,” she said, understanding the double meaning as she pulled her own seatbelt across and locked it into place. She put the car into gear and pulled away. “You know, I am not the monster you seem to think I am.”

  Robin cut her eyes at her and looked out of the window. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I care about Brooke.”

  Catherine nodded. “Believe it or not, so do I.”

  The youngster scoffed. “Yeah, right.”

  They could see Brooke up ahead, just where they had left her. As Catherine pulled into the kerb, she added, “I will drop you both home and then go back to mine to pick up some things.”

  “Whatever,” Robin said, opening the car door with a smile for Brooke.

  “Ready to go, Sis?”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brooke eased down into the couch, grimacing as she sank down onto the battered old cushions. The bruising was becoming more obvious as the day wore on. Dark reds and purples spreading out across her skin in various places reminded her of an ink painting Robin had made for her years ago.

  “Thanks,” she said, smiling through the pain as Robin helped pad her out with more cushions. “Good job you can cook, eh?” She laughed as her stomach rumbled. It was nearing 7 p.m. and she had no clue when she had eaten last. She assumed if she had a job now and had gone to work this morning that she must have had some breakfast, but she had no recollection on what it might have been, or if there was any lunch. “I guess we should wait for…what was her name?”

  “Catherine, Catherine Blake,” Robin answered pulling Brooke’s shoes off. She glanced up to see if the name rang any bells with her sister, but it didn’t seem to.

  “Oh yeah, Blake…Catherine? That’s a nice name, isn’t it?”

  “I guess.” Accomplishing her task, Robin then turned towards the thermostat. It was chilly in the room. “Do you want a blanket?”

  “Nah, I’m good, thanks though. Will you let me know when it’s time to take my painkillers? My head is sore.” She tried to shuffle about a few cushions, but couldn’t quite manage it without Robin’s help again. “Thanks.”

  “Stop saying thanks. You look after me, I look after you, right?”

  Brooke nodded. “Right.”

  “I’ll get some dinner on, wanna drink? I can make a pot of tea or, I think we have some lemonade left.”

  “Lemonade would be great.” She went to say thanks again but caught herself at Robin’s raised brow as she left the room. Brooke grinned and let her head fall back against the cushion. The stitches tugged a little, and she groaned.

  ~FI~

  Catherine sat in her car outside of Brooke’s flat, reminded that she had already been here twice before. Happier times. Her phone rang; Ronnie calling her back.

  “Hen, what kind of garbled message was that?” She chuckled. When Catherine had dropped them off, she had called Ronnie in a panic.

  “Jesus, Ronnie, this is not the time for taking the piss out of me.”

  “Woah, you’re serious? You’ve volunteered to stay with this woman that you’re totally into?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  “Holy hell, are you a glutton for punishment or what?” Ronnie said. There was silence for a moment before she added, “What do you expect is going to happen here?”

  “I don’t know, I didn’t think about it…I just…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I just wanted it to be me…”

  “Sweetie, you need to decide what you want.”

  “I know, I know.”

  ~FI~

  Robin returned almost instantly and pulled the small table closer before she put the glass down on top of a coaster. “Where is she going to sleep?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Catherine, where is she going to sleep?”

  Brooke opened one eye. It was already weird that a complete stranger was going to be staying with them, but she hadn’t considered sleeping arrangements. “I’ll just stay here on the couch.”

  “You cannot sleep on the sofa, Brooke, I will. She can have my bed.”

  “No, Robin. You have school tomorrow and Friday. You’re not giving up your bed.”

  The teen rolled her eyes. “Fine, well we need a solution before she gets back.” The doorbell rang. Both sisters looked to the door and then each other. “I can stay with Jas.”

  ~FI~

  Brooke could hear their muffled voices as Robin let Catherine into the small apartment. There was a lot of hushed whispering, and at some point, she thought she heard Robin very clearly say no. She smiled to herself at that, her little sister being all protective. Of what, she wasn’t so sure, but it was sweet anyway.

  She reached out for the remote and flicked the TV on. A soap opera that she didn’t watch was on, so she flicked through the channels until she found something that half-interested her. Her head was pounding now, and the bruising on her lower back hurt like a bitch.

  Laying her head back down, she closed her eyes again and listened as the voices became louder and clearer. Something was rolling down the hallway, most likely Catherine’s suitcase. The woman intrigued her. She was obviously nice; who else would give up their free time or take time off from work just so they could babysit a virtual stranger? She was attractive too, for someone older than herself. We must be friends at work, Brooke mused, that must be it. Which means it will probably be really nice and a lot of fun to get to know her again. Her thoughts scattered as she drifted off to sleep

  When Brooke woke again, the room was in virtual darkness. The TV was still on, but the show she had been watching was long finished. Now, it was a documentary on penguins. She groaned as she tried to sit up and felt the stiffness from the bruising.

  “Are you okay? Do you need any help?” A stranger’s voice. No, not a stranger, she reminded herself. Someone she worked with: Catherine.

  She licked her dry lips and tried to gather some moisture in her mouth. God, she hoped she hadn’t been dribbling in her sleep. Her hand automatically wiped at the corner of her mouth at the crusty sensation of dried spittle. “I think I am okay. I just…how long did I sleep for?”

  Catherine stood up and moved to squat beside her. She had changed clothing from earlier. Now, instead of the formal dress, she wore jeans and a sweater. She looked more casual and at ease as she smiled down at her. “Only an hour. Would you like something to eat? Robin left instructions on how to reheat the lasagne.”

  “Robin? Where is she?” She felt a little disorientated, like when you’re in a dream and nothing really feels real. Catherine rested a palm on Brooke’s knee as she used her strong thigh for leverage to stand back up again.

  “She went to stay with Jasmine. Mrs Khan came and picked her up about twenty minutes ago.” Her voice got louder as she neared the kitchen. Brooke could hear her pottering about in there, opening cupboards and drawers, searching for all the usual things but not knowing where they were. Plates clanked noisily before the beep of the microwave as it was set into motion. “I put my things in Robin’s room. She said that would be alright.”

  Brooke looked up to see Catherine standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb as she wiped her hands on a tea-towel. “Great, thanks for doing this. I feel a bit bad really, obviously we must be friends and yet, I don’t remember you.”

  Catherine gave a quick smile. “We’ve only known each other a short while.” She looked away, not wanting to be caught in a lie or say too much. Robin was probably right; what Brooke didn’t remember couldn’t hurt her anym
ore.

  “Still. It’s nice of you to do this, and once I do remember, I’ll have to make it up to you.” Brooke reached up and scratched at the side of head. That idea had given her a warm and fuzzy feeling that she didn’t really understand.

  “There really is no need, it’s the least I can do. I don’t think Pollards has ever had a member of security put themselves in the line of fire quite like that, certainly not in the time I have been there.” Or one that I have treated so badly.

  “So, I work as a security guard?” Catherine nodded, and Brooke continued. “When did I start?”

  “Just last month.” Catherine turned back to the kitchen as the microwave pinged. “A couple of weeks, really.”

  The information fitted into its new space inside Brooke’s fractured memory. Just a couple of weeks? That wasn’t very long at all. “So, do you work security with me then?”

  She heard laughter. “Oh, no.” Catherine continued to chuckle; the idea that she could work anywhere but human resources baffled her. “No, I am head of HR.”

  Now Brooke truly was perplexed. “So, I don’t get it. How do we know each other?”

  Catherine cleared her throat before answering. “We uh, well when anyone starts at Pollards, they have to…there is a procedure to learn all of the relevant SOPs.”

  “SOPs?”

  Catherine smiled. Brooke had asked the same thing before. “Yes, Standard Operating Procedures. Lots of…health and safety mainly, and other documents about the workings of Pollards. So, you spent the first week in my office going through all of that.”

  “And in that time, we became friends?”

  “Y-Yes,” she stammered. The microwave pinged again and she disappeared back into the kitchen, grateful for the reprieve in questioning. When she returned minutes later carrying a tray, Brooke forced herself more upright and twisted her legs off from the sofa to the floor.

  “Thank you,” she said, reaching up and taking the tray from her. “This looks great.”

  Catherine smiled. “Robin said it was your favourite.”