A Gift to Remember

by Melissa Hill

  Chapter 21

  The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing. Socrates

  Darcy closed her eyes as the wind swirled around her skirts and birds sang overhead. It was as if all of nature understood that this was a magic moment and was required to set the scene appropriately. The smell of lavender filled her nose.

  Yes, she realised. This time it really was going to happen.

  She took a deep breath and hoped secretly that her face was elegantly flushed in a ladylike way, rather than looking like she was suffering from an extended bout of heat rash. Despite her somewhat olive complexion, at times she could seem downright ruddy. Especially during moments like this.

  Don’t think about that now, her subconscious chided her. Think about the man in front of you.

  Darcy opened her eyes briefly to see him leaning forward. There was something different about the way he looked today, but for some reason she couldn’t place exactly what it was. Before she could ponder the difference any further, he leaned in closer to her. They were so close now, the kiss was inevitable. She just knew it. Her lips moved to meet his and as they did so she heard a sound come from his mouth. Some kind of amorous murmur or passionate sigh or . . . wait a minute, was that a growl?

  Waking suddenly, Darcy sat up in bed and strained her ears, listening for the sound again. After a beat, she heard it a second time and decided that yes, it was very definitely a growl, but not a hostile or threatening one. She got out of bed and went to look for Bailey, wondering why he wasn’t sprawled in his usual spot at the bottom of her bed. What was he up to?

  Going into the living room, she saw the big dog lying flat on the ground in front of the TV, his attention fixed on something between his paws. Something, Darcy realised with a sinking heart, that he seemed to be munching on.

  While Aidan’s dog was for the most part dignified and well-behaved, in the few days Bailey had been her house-guest she’d come to learn that when bored, his breed liked to entertain themselves by chewing on whatever random item came their way. He’d tried on numerous occasions to snatch Darcy’s little homemade books down from the Christmas tree, to say nothing of their real-life counterparts on the shelves, and she’d had to move her book piles to loftier locations like the top of her closet or stuff them inside so as to keep them out of reach of prying paws. And as it was no longer safe to leave a book on her nightstand, she’d taken to placing them under her pillow for ‘safe-keeping’.

  But what had he managed to purloin this time?

  Creeping up slowly behind him in her bare feet, Darcy got a glimpse of something long and metallic between his paws, and relaxed a little, since whatever he was gnawing on, at least it wasn’t one of her treasured books. But what was it? Bailey gave another growl of satisfaction and she bent down, trying to get a better look at what was keeping him so happily engrossed.

  And then, when Darcy caught sight of the object’s goldcoloured twin, tossed carelessly beside him on the rug, she understood. ‘Bailey!’ she gasped, her heart going to her mouth as she wrenched a shoe from his grasp. But not just any old shoe, oh no – it had to be from the most expensive pair in her closet or indeed, the priciest items in her entire apartment – the Jimmy Choos!

  He must have swiped them from the closet earlier. Darcy realised she’d stupidly left it open last night. The Neiman Marcus sticker was still attached to the sole, or what was left of it, she thought, horrified by the piercing toothmarks all over the metallic gold leather. The four inch heel was almost completely gnawed through and the ankle strap was in pieces. And as for the dust bag . . .

  Darcy stared at the ruined designer shoe, but when she looked back at Bailey, tail wagging, blue eyes shining innocently and tongue lolling happily, she couldn’t help but laugh.

  ‘I suppose I should be glad somebody’s getting pleasure out of them,’ she giggled, knowing that she was unlikely to have ever had occasion to wear the shoes in any case. ‘But it’s probably best to keep this between ourselves for now, OK?’ she whispered conspiratorially. ‘I have an inkling Katherine wouldn’t appreciate her generous gift being used as a doggie toy.’

  The Husky gave another joyous wag of his tail, and as Darcy cleaned up the mess she couldn’t help but muse that you could take the dog out of the Upper West Side, but evidently couldn’t take the Upper West Side out of the dog. The mutt had taste.

  Afterwards, having made sure there was nothing else in range for Bailey to turn his attentions to, she stepped into the shower, readying herself for the day ahead and thinking about how she was going to spend her time. First up she needed to pay Aidan a visit at the hospital, she mused. Putting her head under the spray, she ran her fingers through her hair and allowed her thoughts to revert to that morning’s dream.

  She recalled the moment she had run her fingers through Mr Rochester’s hair as he bent low to kiss her and how something had been confusing.

  Over the years, Darcy had had countless dreams that featured Edward Fairfax Rochester, and during that time, he had always looked the way her mind’s eye had pictured him and had always spoken with a clipped English accent. Tall, dark, handsome and absolutely polished . . . he looked the way that a Regency gentleman should – clad in a distinguished cravat, waistcoat and breeches. However, this dream had been different. He had been different.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, reddening a little, as understanding dawned. She bit her lip and stood limply in the shower as she worked to come to terms with what her subconscious had done to her dream.

  It seemed her subconscious thought it would be interesting to give Mr Rochester a faint Irish accent. And have him bear a rather close resemblance to the man she was about to visit in hospital.

  ‘Thrill Seeker Holdings means nothing to you at all? Are you sure?’

  Darcy was back at the hospital by Aidan’s bedside. She couldn’t help but remember Katherine’s reference to her last night as a ‘nursemaid’ and felt slightly embarrassed by the notion. To say nothing of that morning’s dream.

  She was still a little confused by that and certainly hoped Aidan Harris didn’t think she had any designs on him, or was helping him out of anything other than the goodness of her heart. That and guilt, of course – and no small measure of curiosity.

  Especially about the gift.

  He was sitting up when she walked in, flipping through the usual Christmas movies, A Wonderful Life, Holiday Inn and A Christmas Story on nearly every channel at this time of year. When he saw her, he turned the set off.

  ‘Hey there.’ His voice was still hoarse, but not as much as last time.

  ‘Me again,’ Darcy greeted him shyly. ‘I hope you still remember me?’

  He chuckled, laying his hands on top of the blanket. ‘Of course I do.’

  Tiny butterflies danced in her stomach. ‘So how are you feeling today?’ she asked. ‘Any improvement at all?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘No, it’s all still a blank. But the doctor says it should improve as time goes on.’

  ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘Not really,’ he replied, throwing the remote control across the bed in frustration. ‘It’s been three days already. How long do I have to wait? It could be weeks – months even, until things get straightened out. In the meantime, I’m still stuck in this dump.’

  Darcy looked at the ground. ‘I’m sorry – I really wish there was more I could do.’ She sensed that he was used to being on the go all the time. The thought reminded her of the company, and its thus-far elusive information.

  ‘I’m sorry. Ah shit, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful,’ Aidan added then, looking chagrined. ‘God knows, you’ve done more than enough, and gone miles out of your way already to help me.’ He gave her a broad smile, and his eyes twinkled. ‘I’ve been trying to think of a way to thank you, actually. I’m not sure if you’re a ballet fan, but . . .’ He took his wallet out of the bedside locker and opened it. ‘Remember I told you I had these?’ Aidan held up two tickets and she recalled him
mentioning something about tickets for the theatre before. ‘Well, I had a proper look and they’re actually for the New York City Ballet.’ He shrugged. ‘Again, it beats me why I’d have them, but seeing as I do and the performance is tomorrow night . . .’ He looked at her, and for one brief moment Darcy’s heart almost stopped as she thought he was about to ask her out. Then she remembered where they were. Or more to the point, where Aidan needed to stay. ‘Like I said,’ he continued, ‘I’m not sure if the ballet is your thing, but maybe you’d like to give these to a friend?’

  All of sudden, Darcy pictured Mrs Henley’s pink and white Christmas tree. She didn’t know the first thing about ballet, so probably wasn’t the best person to appreciate the gesture, but was sure that Grace would. And wouldn’t it be the perfect way to thank her for all her help in taking care of Bailey over the last few days?

  ‘Thank you, that’s really very kind of you.’ Taking the tickets from Aidan, she glanced down at the details. ‘The Koch Theater. I’m never been there; I’ve heard it’s beautiful though.’

  ‘I guess so, I couldn’t tell you.’ Aidan shrugged again, as if such cluelessness was becoming the norm for him. Which of course it was. ‘You’ll take them then?’ he urged and she nodded. ‘Good. Like I said, I really appreciate all you’ve been doing. You’re a lifesaver, Darcy.’

  Well, at least he seemed calmer and a little less frustrated than he had been, Darcy thought. Granted, she might not have been able to find something or someone to help him just yet, but she was sure it was only a matter of time before she did.

  In the meantime, she had to admit that she was enjoying the journey. It was a long time since she’d been on an adventure – a quest of her own instead of vicariously experiencing such escapades through the pages of a story – and she wanted to make the most of this opportunity to take a brief glimpse into another person’s considerably more exciting life.

  ‘I also found this in my wallet – I forgot to show you the other day.’ He held out a small photograph, creased from being folded, and Darcy wondered if the person in it might be the same as one of the others at his house. But it was soon obvious that this was different altogether.

  Shot in black and white, it was a picture of a young woman obviously taken a long time ago – possibly during the 1960s, to judge by the fashion. Darcy smiled at the classic beauty of the woman and the way she posed so elegantly, sitting with a full skirt laid out around her that would likely have been a light pastel colour, her bow-shaped lips sharing a secret smile with the camera.

  ‘It’s my mother,’ Aidan said, and Darcy looked at him, heartened.

  ‘Well, that’s wonderful!’ she exclaimed happily. ‘If you remember her, it means that things are starting to come back, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Not necessarily. I know it’s my mother and I also know she’s dead, but that’s about it.’ His tone was glum once again. How awful that this sad memory was the only thing that stood out for him. And she wondered then if he had perhaps lost his father too, and if so, then clearly they had that much in common, if nothing else. Both were all alone in the world.

  The fact that Aidan carried such a beautiful picture of his mother around with him merely made her like him all the more. She watched him closely as he put it back into the wallet, a strange expression on his face.

  Hoping to move on to happier things, she picked up her messenger bag and carefully withdrew the gift box, as well as a shopping bag from Verizon. ‘I just picked you up a prepaid phone on the way, and this is the package I was talking about before, the one you were carrying before I hit you.’

  Aidan studied it for a moment, but the package, much like the company name, clearly meant absolutely nothing to him, and he seemed much more interested in the phone.

  ‘Maybe you should open it?’ she suggested, trying not to betray her anticipation. But perhaps he wanted to do that in private. Darcy hoped not, as she really wanted to know what was inside. What had he intended to give to the person he was supposed to meet that day?

  He looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure how it would help if it’s supposed to be for someone else. Is it OK to put your contact details on this?’ Much to Darcy’s disappointment, he immediately lost interest in the package and was instead fiddling with his new phone. She couldn’t really blame him – this would be his first lifeline to the outside world in days, but still . . .

  ‘Sure.’ She quickly inputted her own and Chaucer’s details into the prepaid phone. ‘Be sure to call me at either of those numbers if anything happens.’

  ‘I was just thinking about that actually,’ Aidan said, looking thoughtful. ‘You working in a bookshop, I mean. It’s weird, but it’s the only other thing that is sort of ringing a bell for me. Faintly,’ he added, as Darcy looked up.

  ‘Really? How so? Would you have visited our store in the past maybe, or . . .?’

  ‘No, I don’t mean the actual bookstore, just . . . well, it’s strange but I was watching this quiz show yesterday; in here there’s nothing else to do but watch TV, something I normally hate.’

  ‘Oh!’ Darcy said excitedly and Aidan looked at her, his brown eyes widening as he realised it too. ‘You remembered that you don’t like TV.’

  ‘I did, didn’t I?’ He beamed, looking so pleased with himself that Darcy almost wanted to hug him. Instead, and feeling even more like an idiot, she just high-fived him, his big hand warm and firm against her own.

  ‘That really is something.’ He scratched his chin, beneath which signs of dark stubble had begun to appear. It made him look even more attractive and just so . . . masculine, Darcy thought, trying hard to concentrate on what he was saying. ‘Maybe I’ll be out of this place sooner than I thought.’

  ‘I’m so pleased for you,’ she said, meaning it. ‘If you can remember that then I’m sure other things will gradually start coming back to you too.’

  ‘Yes, but as I was saying – about the quiz show – it’s weird but I was able to answer all the literature-related questions, stuff that I didn’t have a clue I even knew.’

  ‘Like what?’ Darcy asked, intrigued. Besides that reference from The Princess Bride, she hadn’t pegged Aidan as the literary type. Far from it, given that his home was apparently devoid of books, and he clearly led much more of an outdoorsy kind of life.

  ‘Well, one of them was about Joyce, something about a certain day?’ He scrunched up his eyes, remembering. ‘Yes, the question was: If you were to celebrate Bloomsday, on what day would you celebrate it?’

  Darcy immediately knew the answer to that one, but he answered ahead of her. ‘June the sixteenth. And not only that but I knew the year too – 1904.’

  ‘Could be it relates to your heritage?’ she suggested. ‘James Joyce was Irish, as is your name, and you do have a touch of an Irish accent.’

  ‘Yes, but that’s not all I knew,’ he continued, sounding mightily pleased with himself. ‘I also guessed correctly that Agatha Christie is the world’s biggest-selling author, that Freeman’s Oath by Stephen Daye was the very first book published in the American colonies, and . . .’ He sat up, as if readying himself for a challenge.

  Or, as it turned out, to offer one. ‘OK, you’re the books expert, let’s see if you know the answer to this one,’ he said, playfully raising his eyebrows as he threw out the question.

  She grinned and sat forward in her chair. ‘Fire ahead.’ Darcy was only too happy to play along.

  ‘It’s a quote. But what book is it from? For Where Your Treasure Is, There Will Your Heart Be Also.’

  Darcy smirked. Easy-peasy. ‘Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows,’ she replied confidently, but Aidan was shaking his head. ‘What? Yes, it’s the inscription on the tombstones of Dumbledore’s mother and sister,’ she insisted defensively, knowing full well that she was right.

  ‘Nope. It may well appear in the book, but from where does it originate?’

  ‘The author’s mind?’ she said somewhat belligerently, not liking to be cont
radicted.

  Aidan was grinning. ‘Actually it’s in the Bible. Matthew Chapter Six, verses nineteen to twenty-four, and it’s also in Luke.’ Then he added: ‘The show contestants didn’t get it right either.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ She was genuinely stumped by this – had had no idea that the phrase had come from the Bible.

  ‘Very sure. Like I said, nobody else got it either. But when the question was called out, I knew right away that it was in Harry Potter but also that it didn’t originate in that story. I don’t know how, but clearly the information must be stored somewhere in the recesses of my brain.’

  ‘Interesting,’ Darcy said thoughtfully. ‘So you think that maybe books and literary knowledge are a part of who you are?’ she asked, now feeling even more of a kinship towards him.

  ‘Hard to say for sure, and unfortunately it doesn’t get me any closer to finding out what the rest of me is about,’ he said, looking dejected once again. Then: ‘Sorry, here I am feeling sorry for myself again, when I know all of this must be a complete pain in the ass for you.’ He smiled, and his eyes did that cute crinkly thing again.

  ‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘Honestly, I’m happy to do it.’ Once again Darcy tried to get him to concentrate on the positive. ‘So how should we deal with Apple’s request for authorisation to get you a new cell phone? I’ve tried tracking down more information on your company, an office address even, where I might be able to get official business literature for you to sign.’

  Aidan scratched his chin. ‘There’s nothing but the house address listed, you say?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well then, I guess that’s where we find the answer.’ He reached towards his keys again and gave her a sheepish grin. Was he flirting with her? Darcy felt that same blush from this morning creeping once again up her neck. Settle down, she chided herself.

  ‘That is, if you’re up for another visit to home sweet home?’ Aidan asked.

  She shook her head indulgently, already powerless to resist that smile.