With the dreaded phone call over, Angie checked her list. She would need to gather some of Chris’s clothes to take to the hospital. Thankfully, Chris had left most of his belongings here in the apartment. Perhaps as a sign that he hoped to move back in at some point, or perhaps until things became final and he found himself somewhere permanent to live. At present, Chris was staying in a rather run down hotel. It was pretty dismal and shabby, but with Chris working so much, he didn’t have to spend much of his time there anyway. When Angie had suggested he stay somewhere nicer, Chris told her it was good enough for the moment. In his opinion, paying anything more than he had to was a waste of his hard earned money. Some guys might have been able to crash on a friend’s couch, but Chris had lost touch with most of his true friends after they got married. Since Chris’s grandmother had died, he had no relatives to give him a place to stay, so he was on his own. Angie began to think about Chris, and how lonely it must have been as a child. Although Chris didn’t complain about his upbringing it must have been a pretty hard time for him.
Chapter Six
Christopher Morris was born on November 24th 1969, ten days after his mother’s birthday, and in the year that anything seemed possible. The first man had landed on the moon, and Catherine and Michael Morris were having their first child. It had taken nine long years for Catherine to conceive and give birth to a healthy baby boy. It should have been the happiest time for the couple, but by the time Chris was two years old, his father had run off with a girl from the factory where he worked. Chris’s mother moved back in with her parents, Emma and Joseph Scott, and while his grandmother looked after him, his mother took a low paying job in a plastics factory. She worked long hours, and over the next few years, he didn’t get to see much of her, but he always knew that she loved him.
When Chris was five years old his mother became sick. She battled on, going to work each day, taking all the extra shifts they would give her. She would joke that she didn’t have time to be ill. When she collapsed at work she was finally forced to go and see the doctor, but by then it was too late. A seemingly pointless operation only served to temporarily delay the inevitable, and three months later Catherine Emily Morris died from breast cancer at the age of thirty-six.
Chris remained in the care of his grandparents, and after his grandfather died when he was almost twelve, his grandmother soldiered on single-handed. They had very little money but she gave him all the love in the world, and he grew up to be a kind hearted gentle man. The generation gap between Chris and his grandparents had caused pressures at times, but he also had the advantage of gaining an insight into what it was like in his grandparents’ day. They told him how hard things were and he was taught to appreciate everything that he had. The wisdom that only comes through life experience was bestowed on him by both his grandfather and grandmother, but the terrible jokes came solely from his grandfather.
Through his teens Chris tried to balance his desire to move with the times, with his wish to never upset his grandmother. His grandmother tried to keep up with the times too, but struggled to understand the changing fashions and music. So he’d had the dubious advantage of being brought up on a musical diet of Elvis, Jim Reeves, and Burl Ives. Grandma had just about coped with Olivia Newton John, but cringed when he filled their house with the likes of Billy Idol and Soft Cell.
Just before his grandmother died, Chris told Angie how hard it must have been for his grandmother. She had struggled terribly financially, and throughout his teenage tantrums, he had never once felt unloved. Finally Chris told her, “My grandma has so many positive attributes I just can’t count them. She taught me humility, tenacity and tolerance. She’s the most wonderful woman in the world, present company excluded, of course. She never once thought of giving up, Angie, never once.”
Chapter Seven
Angie suddenly realized that she’d been daydreaming for quite some time, and taking a sip of her coffee she winced. The drink was now ice-cold, too cold to drink.
After making a fresh cup of coffee, Angie returned to the sofa and turned up the TV again. It was time to relax to her kind of music, and this channel always played the songs and the videos that both she and Chris enjoyed. They used to love watching the old music videos and reminiscing about the wild fashions and cringe-worthy hairstyles back then.
When the unmistakable sound of guitar strings signaled one of their all time favorites, Angie pricked up her ears. This was the song that was apparently playing at the time of Chris’s crash, and it was uncanny that Michael Stipe should be singing it to her right now. Angie just couldn’t resist turning up the volume the way they used to do, until the wedding photograph on top of the TV stand began to twitch. She allowed the artist to sing the first few lines solo before joining in with the melody, as usual.
“When your day is long and the night, the night is yours alone, when you’re sure you’ve had enough of this life, well hang on,” the haunting lyrics began. “Don’t let yourself go, ‘cause everybody cries, and everybody hurts sometimes,” accompanied Angie.
Angie shakily sang her duet with the far superior lead singer of R.E.M. She hadn’t been into the group as much as Chris had, but she loved that song and the emotion that the lyrics conveyed. Throughout the rest of the song Angie continued to sing along.
“Don’t throw your hand; if you feel like you’re alone, no, no, no, you’re not alone.” It was while singing those words that Angie had the strangest experience of her life. She was glancing towards the oak bookshelves that stood next to the TV. Her eye was drawn to the photograph of Chris, his grandmother, and herself on their wedding day. Chris’ grandmother was beaming with pride that day, and it showed so clearly in the photo. She’d looked at the picture a thousand times over the years, but today she noticed something different. It was as though while she was singing, both Chris and his grandmother were staring right back at her, telling her not to give up, telling her to hold on. There and then, Angie decided that at the first opportunity she would ask Chris if he wanted to give things another go. It would be unrealistic to think they could go back to the way they used to be in the lovey-dovey days, but maybe they shouldn’t give up and maybe they shouldn’t throw their hand.
Packing some of Chris’ clothes into his old sports bag, Angie decided to wait until Nurse Louise got in touch. If the call didn’t come then she would assume Chris was still sleeping. Anyway, the extra sleep would do him good as he had worked far too hard for far too long. One hundred percent convinced that she had made the right decision, Angie settled down to watch TV and wait for the telephone call.
When the hands on the clock noisily clicked on to 11 p.m., a heavy-eyed Angie acknowledged that it was time for bed. Tomorrow would be the beginning of a new day, and hopefully a new chapter in both her and Chris’ life.
Chapter Eight
The sun shone brightly through the curtains and Angie jumped sprightly out of bed, ready for the big day ahead. She hadn’t slept too well, but where normally she might have relished an extra hour in bed, she had important things to do and a renewed determination to do them.
At first, automatic pilot kicked in, and with her mind preoccupied on other matters, Angie had prepared her morning coffee without being aware of it. All through the night she’d been thinking of what she’d say to Chris and what his response might be. Trying out several scenarios and rehearsing her lines for each script, she played out the scenes in her head. Now morning had come and she was growing more anxious by the moment.
Pushing the thick bread down into the toaster, she headed for the closet to choose something nice to wear. She felt like she was going on a first date wanting to look her best for Chris, and she had nervous butterflies in the stomach. Pulling one outfit after another from the crowded closet, Angie struggled to find what she was looking for. Then she spotted the top that Chris had bought her last Christmas. The long sleeved satin top was her favorite shade of blue and it complemented her skin tone perfectly. Teamed up with her black jean
s, she would look both smart and casual at the same time.
The high-pitched squeal of the smoke alarm sent her running to the kitchen, where she found billows of smoke rising from the toaster. Opening the window to clear the air, Angie unplugged the toaster and forced in a knife to release the trapped and somewhat cremated toast. A thin spreading of butter was all she could stomach. Biting gingerly in the dusty blackened toast, Angie washed it down with a mouthful of lukewarm coffee.
The buildup of nerves and excitement had transformed the former fluttering sensations into something resembling her washing machine on a super clean wash cycle. With one eye on the clock and the other on the telephone, she watched and waited for the friendly nurse, Louise, to call.
When breakfast was over, Angie couldn’t wait any longer and decided to get ready to leave. If the call didn’t come by the time she was ready to go, she would call the hospital and get an update herself. She had only just jumped out of the shower when the phone rang. Dripping water onto the off-white bedside rug, she listened intently to Nurse Brannagan.
“Morning, Angie. I’ve asked the staff and Christopher slept for most of the night. You can come in any time you’re ready. If I’m not at the desk when you arrive I’m sure I won’t be far away. We won’t tell him you’re coming; it’ll be a nice surprise for him.”
“Thanks for calling, Louise. I should be there in just under an hour, traffic and public transport permitting,” Angie continued, “I’d be so grateful if you’d come in with me again, just until I see how he is.”
“Yes that’s not a problem, see you soon, bye.”
Angie was so pleased that someone like Louise had been on duty when she had arrived to see Chris, yesterday. From past experience, Angie knew that some nurses could be a little distant or even abrupt. Louise on the other hand was so down to earth and so approachable. She had put Angie at ease almost from the beginning.
Fed and watered, showered, hair dried, makeup completed, Angie was set to go. Grabbing the sports bag filled with essentials for Chris, she hurried to catch the next bus to the hospital. True to her word, in less than an hour, Angie was entering in the hospital doors and heading for the stairs. Yesterday she had reluctantly used the elevator for time’s sake. Today she wanted to remain as relaxed as possible, so climbing the stairs to the fourth floor was the much-preferred option.
Reaching the fourth floor, Angie was slightly out of breath and her heart was beating a little faster, but she was still glad that she had taken the stairs rather than the elevator. This time she knew exactly where she was heading, and once she passed through the double doors, Angie approached the nurse’s station. She was just about to ask the nurse at the desk if Nurse Brannagan was about, when a familiar cheery face appeared from a nearby doorway.
“Hi, Angie, just give me a moment and I’ll walk with you to see Christopher,” she said before disappearing back into the room she had come from. Now that the time had come, Angie couldn’t help feeling even more nervous about seeing Chris. Lately all they had done was bicker, and she wanted today to be different. She was overflowing with things that she wanted to say to Chris, and if he were unapproachable, she wouldn’t be able to unburden herself at all. Just as Angie was beginning to become slightly impatient about having to wait, a flush-faced Nurse Louise reemerged from the room ready to take her to see Chris. Meaningless friendly chatter helped to pass the moments from the nurses’ station to Chris’ room. Arriving at the last door on the left, Louise looked Angie straight in the eyes. “Ready?” asked the smiling nurse.
“Yes,” Angie smiled back, before taking in a deep breath and slowly exhaling. Angie’s hands were quivering slightly. Clasping them together, she hoped this would steady them. Continuing to take slow deep breaths, she was still unable to calm herself and stop the trembling. Determined not to waste time wavering, she decided she’d just have to hope that no one would notice. The two women entered the room and were immediately met by a barrage of chattering male voices. Angie didn’t have to worry about walking quietly today. Today, all four beds were filled, and while three of the occupants were wide awake and chattering, Chris looked miles away. The appearance of Louise and Angie had caused the men to stop their blabbering and stare. Just for a moment there was complete silence.
“Oh Louise, have you come to give me a bed bath,” one voice joked.
“No, but I can find a bar of soap to wash out your mouth,” she quipped back in a flash.
Angie was now even more nervous. The full room might make it much harder to chat properly with Chris, but now what worried her more was the vacant expression on Chris’ face. He looked bewildered as the two women drew closer to his bed. Perhaps he hadn’t expected her to come, or perhaps he’d have preferred it if she hadn’t. There was only one way to find out.
“I’ll leave you two alone. Just press the call button if you need me,” the smiling nurse said, after puffing up Chris’ pillows and smoothing down his covers.
The couple watched as the cheery nurse smoothed down the covers on the other three beds, before speedily disappearing from the room. The moment that the nurse was out of earshot, Angie placed the sports bag on the bottom of Chris’ bed and decided to get straight to the point. “You look surprised to see me. If you’d prefer, I’ll leave right away.” Chris looked blank, hollow. In fact, he stared at her like a complete stranger. Surely he must be a tiny bit pleased that she had come to see how he was?
“I’m sorry, uh, uh, sorry. I don’t mean to be rude. Sorry, what was your name?”
Angie was flabbergasted. Out of all the things that had happened so far, nothing could have prepared her for this. She wondered if it was some sick joke he was playing; some childish form of revenge for the nasty things she had said during their last argument. Surely he wouldn’t stoop to such a low trick, he couldn’t be that cruel. Angie recalled the discussion they had when they’d watched a movie where someone had lost their memory. She’d said how terrible it must be not to recognize even your own family. Chris, on the other hand, had a totally different viewpoint.
“Quite convenient, if you ask me. Say you’re married to some old dragon. She nags about this and nags about that. You fake amnesia, and hey presto, you’ve ‘forgotten’ her and the old witch will be running round in circles trying to make it up to you. Of course I would never do that to you darling,” Chris said as he pecked Angie fondly on the cheek.
That had happened back in the days when things were going great between them, and at the time he had only been joking with her. However, Chris had always been a bit cynical when it came to the subject of memory loss. He questioned whether some people used the mysterious condition of amnesia to escape problems that had become too much for them. Now, Angie wondered if Chris had really forgotten her or whether he was faking the whole thing.
She stared into his dark chocolate brown eyes and was shocked to find that it seemed he was being totally genuine; he had no idea who she was. Angie simply did not know what to say to Chris, so she said nothing. Instead she turned on her heels and headed for the nurse’s station. She galloped like a startled pony back along the corridor. As soon as her eye caught familiar sight of the friendly nurse, Angie began to babble.
“Louise, Louise, he doesn’t know who I am. I thought you said he was OK. We’ve been married for twenty years and he doesn’t know who I am. He looked straight through me, like I wasn’t there. I’m a complete stranger to him. I mean I know we’ve been living apart for a while and we have big issues right now; but we’ve shared a ton of great times too. Dating, our wedding day, holidays together, our apartment; what’s happened to all of that? It can’t just all disappear, it just can’t. I cannot believe that all those memories have just been wiped out by a stupid accident; it’s just not possible. What’s happened to him? What if the doctors have missed something? What if he’s got a blood clot on the brain? Why else wouldn’t he recognize me? Please tell me it’s just the medication.”
Generally accustomed to being abl
e to keep her emotions in check, the unflappable Angie was becoming increasingly perturbed. She knew that she was behaving like some hysterical teenager, almost to the point of hyperventilating; but right now that wasn’t important. She just needed to find out what was going on with Chris, and she needed someone to do something about it, now.
Louise slowly approached Angie, leading her towards the room behind the nurse’s station. In her usual calming tone, she attempted to persuade Angie to settle down.
“Hey, slow down and relax Angie. Try to breathe slowly and calmly. This sort of thing is quite common you know,” she fibbed, “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about at all. But I’ll get one of the doctor’s to come and have a word with you, just to put your mind at rest.” Nurse Louise Brannagan was a levelheaded nurse who didn’t flap, no matter what was going through her head. She didn’t see any benefit to causing further distress by overreacting to a situation. If it was confirmed that there was a more serious problem with Christopher and his apparent memory loss, then that would be the time to deal with it. “You take a seat here for a while. How would you like a tea or coffee, while I go and track down one of our elusive doctor’s to talk to you?”
It Must Have Been Love Page 3
