by Dawn Tamayo
Romero looked at the wedding ring finger on her left hand and he couldn’t see any tell-tale signs of a ring mark. So she wasn’t married, but that didn’t necessarily rule out engaged; if she hadn’t been wearing a ring for long then it wouldn’t leave too much of a ring indentation or tan line.
“Helen, I don’t want to ask you, but I have to. There is a possibility that you may have been attacked…”
Helen knew where he was heading and she interrupted him, “No it’s okay Sergeant. The doctor checked and there’s no sign of any sexual assault, thank goodness.”
“Good.” He smiled relieved. Romero took out his phone, “I need a photograph of you to put into the system so we can try and trace who you are. Can I take one now?” He neglected to tell her he had taken a photograph of her when she was asleep earlier. Now she looked like a different person he hoped this photograph would bring up a positive match.
“Go ahead.” She said and smiled for his camera phone.
Helen watched as Romero tapped on the little screen and emailed the photograph across to the police station and then she continued, “A lady from the British Consulate in Benidorm came by earlier, she was sent by the Embassy. She is coming back later to bring me some money from the emergency fund, thankfully I qualify for that. Apparently losing your memory and being without any money or anywhere to stay qualifies as an emergency! Just as well really.” She laughed trying to make light of her situation and then sighed, not quite able to keep the act up. “They are discharging me later today so she is going to come back then and get me.”
“I will need your address when you leave here. I need to know where to contact you.” Romero was uneasy at the thought she was leaving the relative safety of the hospital, he still had no idea how she had ended up with a head injury. “Helen, do you have any idea why you were walking around in that little dress soaking wet with no shoes or handbag? I would assume that you lived nearby, but I don’t think so because you were wet, like you had come in from the sea.”
Helen looked across the tiny table between herself and Sergeant Sanchez, he looked all clean and shiny in his perfectly pressed uniform and shining buttons. His hair was immaculate again, and his eyes sparkled with concern. As much as she didn’t want to, Helen couldn’t help the tears from coming. She had gone all morning without crying and now there was just no stopping them. Quickly she put her hands over her face to hide herself as she tried to stop crying. She really tried, but she couldn’t. Helen could feel her stomach cramping as the sobs came harder and faster. Then she heard soothing words being spoken gently to her in Spanish.
“No llores mi bella nena, no te preocupes. Esperas, será mejor en un pocito tiempo.”
Romero couldn’t help himself as he reached across the table to Helen - his heart felt like it was being crushed as he watched the beautiful woman crumble into tears in front of him. He had never been good with women crying; usually it was just crocodile tears trying to get out of a speeding fine, but this was so much more than that. Normally he would have walked away and not looked back, but not now. Now he wanted to take Helen into his arms and hold her tight, and to make everything better for her.
Helen stopped crying and looked up surprised - so far everyone in the hospital had spoken to her in English, but she realised she understood what Romero said. “I understand you! Not brilliantly, but I can understand you.”
“¿Tu entiendes español?” Romero asked. He sat back in his chair surprised, but he wasn’t sure if he was more surprised that Helen understood Spanish or that he had come close to crossing the professional line with a victim, something he had never done before. He pulled his hands away from Helen, he had to keep his distance and be professional. Romero was always professional, and beautiful or not, he was not about to change that now.
“Si, un pocito.” She said, slowly finding the words she wanted from somewhere in the darkness of her mind.
“What did I say to you?” Romero wanted to see just how much Spanish she really understood.
Helen blushed as she realised he had called her a ‘pretty girl’. She skipped across that part, “You said, don’t cry, don’t worry. Then something like, wait and things will be better in time.”
Romero smiled, she was right.
Helen smiled back and happily wiped away the tears.
They were interrupted by a knock at the door and a woman dressed formally in a white crisp shirt and a black trouser suit walked into the hospital room.
“Sergeant Sanchez, this is Mrs Kendal from the British Consulate.” Helen introduced.
Romero stood up and walked across the room to shake her hand.
“Good afternoon Sergeant.” Mrs Kendal said and then turned to Helen, “You are being discharged now, so shall we go over what is going to happen from here?”
“Mrs Kendal, wait one moment please?” Romero interrupted. He took out his little notebook and pen, and tore out a piece of paper. He wrote his name and the phone number for the police station at Villajoyosa on it and handed it to Helen, “I need to be going to the station now, but I want you to call me when you get to your accommodation and give me your address and phone number. If I am not in the station then leave a message for me Helen.”
“Thank you.” Helen said as she took the little piece of paper and looked into his deep brown eyes hoping this wouldn’t be for the last time. She saw a flicker of something in his eyes and she didn’t know what it meant, but whatever it was made her stomach do an almighty somersault. She watched as Sergeant Sanchez walked out the door, and along with him went her feelings of warmth and assurance that everything was going to be alright.
“Helen we must go now, I have a taxi waiting outside.”
Helen looked at the woman from the British Consulate. Holding her little piece of paper firmly in her hand she followed the woman out of the hospital to the waiting taxi.
“So now I am going to take you to where the consulate has arranged for you to stay until we can find out a bit more about you. After that we will either get you back to England, or to wherever you live out here. It’s a difficult task without having much to go on, even a surname really would help, but let’s just hope you remember something soon or someone reports you missing.”
“Yes, let’s hope.” Helen said taking a seat in the taxi and watching as the hospital disappeared into the distance behind them as the car weaved its way around the small bendy streets.
The taxi had pulled up in a busy road in the middle of Benidorm. Helen got out and followed Mrs Kendal into a small apartment complex above a pharmacy and clothes shop. She walked around the little room taking in the small table and chair by the window overlooking the road below. The kitchen area was tiny but adequate: a hob, a toaster and a sink. She supposed she didn’t need much more than that. The bed looked like it had seen better days but at least it was clean. Helen knew she shouldn’t be fussy, she realised she was lucky that she even had a roof over her head at all right now! And besides, she sighed, it was only temporary – just until she remembered who she was, and then she could go home. Somehow, she was sure that wherever home was it was going to be a nicer place than the tiny apartment. She opened the envelope of emergency money she had been given by Mrs Kendal finding one hundred Euros inside and she wondered how long that would last. She had nothing, not even a hairbrush! Even the flimsy nightdress she had been wearing last night had been taken away for evidence. The only thing she had to her name was the clothes she had on her back, and even those had been leant to her by the hospital. Helen couldn’t believe this was the extent of her possessions right now! That, along with the bottle of water and a sandwich!
“Right, well I think that is about it. Any questions?” Mrs Kendal asked in a chirpy voice which Helen thought didn’t really fit the current situation. She watched as the woman edged her way towards the door, obviously in a hurry to leave, and Helen couldn’t blame here.
Helen shook her head, no she didn’t have any more questions, she was just about processin
g what had happened and where she was, she certainly couldn’t think of anything else for now.
“Well if you do remember something, even the slightest thing, then do give me a call straight away. However, if that doesn’t happen within the next week or so then we will need you to report back to us at the British Consulate and we will re-evaluate things at that time.”
Helen looked at Mrs Kendal, just what did that mean ‘re-evaluate things at that time”? But before she had a chance to ask, the woman from the consulate walked out the door.
Helen watched as the door closed behind Mrs Kendal before turning back to the little room to look around for herself. She had no idea if she had been in better or worse places than this before, and she supposed the little studio was adequate, but she didn’t feel comfortable or safe. Helen took a twenty euro note out from the envelope of money and tucked the rest inside a drawer, she wasn’t convinced it was the safest place to hide her money, but then again she didn’t have many choices.
Helen walked to the front door and took a deep breath, watching as her hand shook on the door lock. She tried to stop it from shaking, and then for the first time she realised that maybe there was a possibility someone might have tried to hurt her intentionally. The cut on her head may have been an accident, but then again it may not! After all, why had she been out in her nightdress in the first place, because now she was coming to the conclusion that the tiny piece of material she had been wearing must have been a nightdress and not a going out outfit – despite having no memory of who or what type of person she was before, Helen had a feeling she wouldn’t have worn such a skimpy outfit out. If someone had tried to hurt her, then what if they were still around? What if they wanted to finish the job? She told herself to get a grip, it was most likely just an accident and she had nothing to fear. So, taking another deep breath, Helen walked out the door, checking it was locked firmly behind her, and walked down the stairs towards the building exit.
As Helen stood at the edge of the opening to her little apartment building the noise of the traffic and people going passed hit her full-on. Despite the loud noise she could swear her heart was beating even louder than all the commotion in front of her. She shook her hands by her side briefly hoping they would stop shaking, but it was no good they wouldn’t stop. She looked down at her hands thinking they looked like some alien-being attached to the end of her wrists the way they were moving with a life of their own and not responding to her mind’s request for them to stop. Helen tried to take a step out of the doorway but her legs wouldn’t move. She could see people in the roadway in front of her going about their business - there was no danger just ordinary life, but Helen felt like she was watching a film which she wasn’t part of at all.
“It’s no good.” Helen muttered under her breath and moved back inside the hallway standing with her back pressed up against the cold wall. She had planned to go to a shop and buy some basic food supplies and get change to use in the payphone near the apartment building to phone Sergeant Sanchez at the police station to let him know where she was, but that was impossible now. She had no change for the phone and she couldn’t bring herself to walk out into the street to get to a payphone anyway. Helen kicked the wall behind her with her heel, cursing when it hurt. She laughed to herself out of frustration; how was she supposed to go about ordinary daily life when she didn’t even know what ordinary life was for her? She wasn’t actually living at the moment. Without knowing who she was, she was merely existing! She couldn’t be a whole person until she knew who she was, where she lived, and what she liked. She didn’t even know what flavour drink to buy, she didn’t know what she liked. Quickly Helen turned her back on the outside world and decided that tomorrow would be another day, she was sure she would be feeling a little bit better by then.
Helen ran back up the stairs and opened the door to her apartment. Closing it firmly behind her she locked it and went across the room to close the curtains too. Looking around the small darkened room Helen took refuge on her bed, climbing into the middle. She pulled the bottle of water and sandwich to her side, then lay down wishing the time to go by quickly. All she wanted now was for the night to come and go, then tomorrow had to be a better day. It had to be!
CHAPTER THREE
Sergeant Romero Sanchez looked at the clock on his desk in the small Villajoyosa police station again, it was getting late and he hadn’t heard from Helen yet, he was expecting her to have called him by now. Romero had telephoned the hospital to check she had left and they confirmed she had, so he knew she should be in her new accommodation by now. He was beginning to wonder why Helen hadn’t telephoned him, he was sure she would want to hear if they had found any more information about her. As frustration began to build inside him he considered telephoning the British Consulate in Benidorm, but it was late and the office would be closed, it would only be the emergency number for the night and he knew they wouldn’t have the information he wanted. Romero knew there was nothing urgent to speak to Helen about, he didn’t have any news to tell her, but he did want to know where she was just in case he got a hit from the information he had entered into the missing persons’ system.
Romero checked again with his front desk sergeant to see if he had missed any messages, but he hadn’t. He telephoned through to the Benidorm police station thinking maybe Helen had lost his phone number and couldn’t remember which station he worked at, but there were no messages for him there either. Romero checked with his colleagues but no one had heard from Helen and no contact details had been added to her file. By the time Romero’s shift had ended at one a.m. he was somewhere in between annoyed with Helen for not calling him and worried that something may have happened to her.
Romero drove out of the little town of Villajoyosa to Benidorm, and stopped off at Juan’s bar just as he did so many nights before. But tonight was different, he needed to ask a favour.
“Hola amigo.” Juan said happy to see his friend again.
“How are you?” Romero smiled glad to see a happy face. “Can I speak to Cathy, I need to ask a favour.” He could see Cathy standing at the doorway to the back and knew she could hear him.
Juan looked at him puzzled; in all the years he had been married to Cathy, Romero had never once asked her for a favour. He called out for Cathy not realising she was so close by, and put a cup of coffee down in front of Romero.
“Hey Romero, how are you doing?” Cathy asked as she came over, “Don’t worry, my Mum’s listening out for the children.” she said to Juan as she walked passed him receiving a playful smack on her bottom.
Romero recounted the events of how he had found Helen after leaving their bar the previous night to both Cathy and Juan. He told them how he planned to contact the British Consulate first thing in the morning to get Helen’s address, they would have no option other than to hand it over to the police, so that wouldn’t be a problem. Then that is where he needed Cathy’s help. Romero knew he shouldn’t get involved, but he couldn’t leave Helen alone without knowing she was alright - he didn’t know how much help the woman from the consulate had given her. Romero hoped Helen was sitting comfortably right now, with a glass of wine in her hand watching the world go by, and just waiting for her memory to come back with not a care in the world. But if not, then he wanted to at least make sure that she had everything she needed for now. Romero had asked himself all night why he was doing this - worrying about where Helen was and planning to ask Cathy for her help - and he couldn’t give himself an honest answer. He had heard people talk about a person feeling responsible for someone who’s life they had saved, but Romero knew it was more than that - he had saved numerous lives throughout his years with the police, in various different units, and he had never once felt like this. He didn’t know why he felt this way, and he couldn’t even explain exactly what he felt, but he did know that he had to do something.
“Por favor Cathy, I know you are busy with your parent’s visiting, but if I give you the address where this woman is staying
can you check on her tomorrow and see that she has everything she needs – you know, from one woman to another, that sort of thing?”
“So, you said she had nothing? Just the clothes she was wearing and that’s it? Nothing else?” Cathy couldn’t imagine being without the generous contents of her handbag at the very least! She didn’t get the concept of travelling light and Juan was always complaining she had far too many clothes and perfume bottles scattered around their bedroom. And don’t even get him onto her make-up, he seemed to find a mascara in every drawer! But then again that was why he loved her; for her crazy girliness and the fact that she was the mother of his children and the only woman he had ever truly loved.
“No nothing Cathy, that’s my concern. She may have gone shopping by now, but I don’t know. I just want you to go and check. Will you do that for me?”
“Sure. What’s she look like, just so I know I’ve got the right woman and I’m not approaching the wrong person.”
“She is about your height and similar size to you, maybe a little curvier. She has long caramel brown hair and bluey green eyes. Look I have a picture of her.” Romero said as he pulled out his phone and passed it across to Cathy. “Her eyes are blue in this photo but they are green sometimes too. I think it depends on her mood and what she’s talking about, they seem to change colour from blue to green and then back again.”
Cathy took the phone and looked at Helen’s photo. Laughing out loud she passed it across to Juan to see, and watched as he laughed too.
“What?” Romero asked. “Do you recognise her?”
“No, it’s not that.” Cathy smiled handing him back the phone.
