What Was Lost

by Jean Levy

  ‘Now, Sarah,’ she began, ‘a number of things have arisen in the last week and we need to discuss their implications.’ She lifted her mug and extended her upper lip into the tea.

  ‘Things?’ I asked.

  ‘It has come to our notice that you have become involved with a man.’ She paused to gauge my reaction. ‘Would you like to explain why you never mentioned this to me during my previous visits?’

  I sat down. ‘We met in the supermarket and we went for coffee.’

  ‘And then, I gather, you allowed him to come here to your home.’

  ‘His name’s Matthew Parry. Dr Gray knows.’

  ‘Sarah, you should take great care when encouraging such arrangements. You’re really not ready for this kind of activity. Things might seem to be going swimmingly well, but men will not be satisfied with coming here for a cup of tea.’

  ‘We went to dinner at Gusto in Primrose Hill.’

  Mrs Parkin’s face contorted with disapproval. ‘When did that happen?’

  ‘Last Saturday. And on Sunday he took me to lunch.’ Mrs Parkin appeared to have been rendered speechless by these details of my burgeoning social life. I was delighted. ‘Then on Monday we had supper at Tony’s Bistro.’

  ‘You’re seeing this man every day?’ Mrs Parkin took a deep lungful of air. ‘Sarah, this can only lead to things that you are not yet ready for. However gallant you think this man is, there will be expectations! Dr Williams’ assessments have revealed that you are completely innocent regarding the physical relationships between men and women. And he is very concerned that you avoid such complications for the time being.’

  ‘Until I’m ready,’ I suggested.

  ‘Yes! Now, since circumstances have brought us to this point prematurely it falls to me to offer you some advice and cautions. So, in anticipation, I have put together a few illustrations to help us understand what might be expected and what it might be best for you to avoid.’ She pulled a small folder from her bag. ‘If at any point, you do not understand, please ask me to repeat myself.’ I feared that if I opened my mouth to speak, hysterical laughter might escape, so I maintained silence, which seemed to satisfy Mrs Parkin. She continued.

  ‘Now, in the clinic it was necessary to explain your monthly cycles to you. Are you completely relaxed now about the significance of these cycles?’ I nodded. Mrs Parkin placed the folder down in front of me. The first illustration was an annotated diagram of the female reproductive system, the second a diagram of the male reproductive system. The third illustration was a photo of male genitalia. Mrs Parkin was clearly unsettled by this third illustration. She paused to take a custard cream and a mouthful of tea. ‘Now, Sarah, I know this must be quite startling for you. But Dr Williams and I think it’s best if you know what to expect.’

  I clutched my mug and stared at the privates of this unknown man. ‘Mrs Parkin, would you mind if I switch the drying on?’

  Mrs Parkin rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, all right!’ she snapped. ‘But, Sarah, these things are not to be escaped.’

  I clicked the washing machine to dry and the metal drum started to turn. It was accompanied by rhythmic banging. ‘Oh!’ I exclaimed. ‘It shouldn’t do that!’

  Mrs Parkin walked over. ‘It sounds as if there’s something heavy inside. She peered in through the glass door. ‘You’d better turn it off. Do you have a linen basket handy?’

  I fetched my laundry basket and we stood together waiting for the click that signalled access. Mrs Parkin pulled open the door and began to drag out the tangled mass of wet linen. The first thing I noticed was that the red roses on my duvet cover were now pink. The second thing I noticed was that something heavier than linen was caught up inside the shroud of pink roses. Mrs Parkin bent over and tugged at the duvet cover. After a moment or two she managed to grapple free the cause of the machine’s previous distress, although at first sight it was not obvious what it was. Clearly, one doesn’t expect to find an iPad embedded in wet laundry. She looked to me for an explanation.

  I leapt back horrified. ‘Is it all right, Mrs Parkin?’

  ‘I would think not. These things are not constructed to withstand laundry cycles. How on earth did it finish up in there?’

  I collapsed onto the nearest chair. ‘It must have been muddled up in the duvet cover.’

  ‘Well, Sarah you must be more careful with your things. I think insurance has been arranged for your possessions. We’ll …’

  ‘It’s not mine. It’s Matthew’s!’

  ‘Matthew Parry’s?’ Mrs Parkin lowered her voice, her uncertainty obvious. ‘Has he leant it to you, my dear?’

  I folded my arms tight over my stomach. ‘No, he was reading a contract when I went back to sleep.’ I looked at Mrs Parkin, who was now supporting herself against the refrigerator. Damn her and her picture book! ‘After we made love.’

  ‘You’ve had sex with this man? Sarah, Dr Williams will be most distressed! You are most certainly not ready for this! You have no idea what dangerous ground you have stumbled upon!’

  I forced myself to stay calm. ‘I am ready. We were lovers before, in the time I don’t remember. Dr Williams can’t stop Matthew coming here!’

  Mrs Parkin looked horrified. She placed the iPad onto the worktop, went to her bag and pulled out her mobile phone. ‘This is totally unacceptable! Has Mr Parry confirmed this previous relationship? What else has he told you?’

  ‘That he’s my agent. And we’ve been lovers for the last two years. But we didn’t live together.’

  ‘And has he explained why that was the case?’

  ‘Not really. I think he was in a relationship already, but I don’t think he was married. Do you know whether he was married, Mrs Parkin?’

  Mrs Parkin was enraged. ‘I have no intention of discussing this wretched man’s details. Has he mentioned anything else?’

  ‘He said he’s been asked not to tell me more.’

  ‘Really?’ she snapped. ‘Sarah, I have to make a telephone call.’

  ‘Mrs Parkin, it was me that seduced him.’

  Mrs Parkin pursed her lips then disappeared into the lounge. I wandered over and started to flick through the photo folder. There were a few interesting illustrations towards the end, although nothing quite as fleshy as my magazines. I walked over to investigate the iPad, pressed the concave recess the way Matthew had. Nothing. It was all very shiny but whatever pieces of information it had once held behind that black mirror screen were probably lost forever. Washed away in a laundry cycle. I touched the shiny glass. I could see my eyes looking back at me. Black eyes that offered no clue to the things they had seen, to the memories they had facilitated. Memories that had also been washed away. Somewhere on a beach in …

  ‘Right!’

  I glanced round. Mrs Parkin was standing behind me, wearing her thin-lipped smile. She sat down, scooped the photo folder back into her bag and took one of her preparatory deep breaths. ‘Now, Sarah, Dr Williams has advised me as to how we might proceed. Given our new circumstances. Firstly, we need to discuss protection. I gather Dr Gray has prescribed contraceptive pills. Have you started taking them?’

  ‘The nurse said start after my next period.’

  The patronising smile continued. ‘So, in the meantime, we’ll need a little back-up.’ She pulled two cellophane-wrapped packets from her bag and placed them on the table. ‘Now, these are condoms …’ My mind began to stray. I imagined Mrs Parkin’s bag might be a mystical bag, a portal to another dimension. Of biscuits and condoms and photographs of people having sex … ‘Sarah, do try and pay attention! This is for your own good!’ Maintaining her smile, Mrs Parkin proceeded to describe, minutely, the application and shortfalls of the condom. I wanted to laugh, not so much at the nature of these male contraceptives, but rather at the thought of Mrs Parkin ever having come into contact with some poor soul’s genitalia wearing such a ridiculous object. But I managed to control myself. ‘Now, you’ll need to use these each time you … and you must insist tha
t Mr Parry agrees to do so. Men can be difficult!’ She moved to reassurances. ‘There are six here so that should keep you going for a while. And I wouldn’t worry about last night. Just once unprotected is not too risky …’

  ‘Three times.’

  Mrs Parkin frowned: ‘You had relations before last night?’

  ‘No, three times last night.’

  Mrs Parkin’s mouth puckered. Then she reached into her vast bag and withdrew another, larger, packet from the biscuit and condom dimension.

  Episode Twenty-one

  Mrs Parkin stayed for another hour during which time she provided a comprehensive opportunity for questions and answers on the complexities of social intercourse and sexual relationships, all of which I attempted to take seriously. One thing I did grasp from Mrs Parkin’s counsel was a vague idea of the chasm that existed between the world that I had been observing this last few weeks and the world as it really was. I was grateful that Matthew had taken the decision to protect me from reality. I hoped he wouldn’t be too angry when he discovered that I’d ruined his iPad.

  Mrs Parkin was pulling her things together when the doorbell rang. The clock said 2:34. I looked at Mrs Parkin.

  ‘You’d better see who it is. I’ll just excuse myself before I go.’

  I paused to gather myself. The doorbell rang again. I peered through the peephole: Matthew! I let him in.

  ‘Hi, gorgeous. The meeting went well. I left them at it. Thought I’d better come over and stop you worrying about the supermarket. We could go now, if you like.’ He stooped to kiss my cheek. ‘Did you find my iPad? I think I left it on the bed.’

  I threw my arms around him. ‘Matthew, I’m so sorry! I boiled it in the washing machine!’

  He looked down and met my eyes, took a few moments to consider the information. ‘You boiled the iPad?’

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘Why did you do that?’

  ‘I didn’t mean to … It was an accident. I washed the sheet and the duvet cover because I didn’t want Mrs Dickson to see the marks on them and I must have got your iPad muddled up in them.’

  An overly tactful cough interrupted our conversation. Mrs Parkin was standing in the dining area. ‘Mr Parry, we haven’t met. I’m Jane Parkin, an associate of Dr Williams.’

  Matthew detached himself from me. ‘No worries,’ he whispered. He approached Mrs Parkin and extended his hand. ‘I presume that you know I went against advice and orchestrated a reunion with Sarah?’

  Mrs Parkin failed to take Matthew’s hand. ‘Indeed, Mr Parry. I also gather that this reunion has escalated somewhat.’

  Matthew lowered his hand: ‘As I told Dr Williams, it could have been anybody accosting Sarah. At least my intentions were rooted in a concern for her well-being.’

  ‘Really? I also gather that you assured Dr Williams that this relationship would remain platonic for as long as possible. Clearly your self-interest triumphed over your promises.’

  I felt the need to redress the situation. ‘Matthew did keep his promise!’ I felt his arm close around me.

  ‘Calm down, love. Losing your temper never helps.’

  Mrs Parkin curled her lip as she spoke. ‘Coming from you, Mr Parry, that is complete hypocrisy!’

  Matthew squeezed my shoulder. ‘Mrs Parkin, I admit I behaved badly, but I was extremely worried about what I thought was bad practice. I’ve apologised. I was wrong to strike Dr Williams. It was the behaviour of a hooligan.’

  I step away from him. ‘You hit Dr Williams?’

  Matthew looked contrite. ‘It was more of a slap, really.’

  Mrs Parkin straightened her jacket. ‘You are fortunate that Dr Williams is choosing not to press charges. As far as I’m concerned it was assault. I would have been more unforgiving.’

  ‘I’m very grateful to him. I’ve written a formal apology.’

  Mrs Parkin closed her eyes in distain then turned her attention towards me. ‘Well, Sarah, I shall discuss with Dr Williams whether I can be of any further help to you in these circumstances. He can decide whether I return this Monday coming, if at all. Thank you for your hospitality, my dear.’ She went to leave.

  I felt a wave of panic pass over me. ‘But … Please, Mrs Parkin, I don’t think I can carry on without you.’

  Mrs Parkin’s thin smile made a brief reappearance. ‘Let’s see what Dr Williams says, shall we, Sarah? If you would prefer it, I’ll advise him that we both feel our little chats have been beneficial.’ I thanked her and watched the door close behind her.

  Matthew folded his arms. ‘Stupid, ugly cow! I thought you hated her.’

  ‘I don’t hate her, I just don’t like her. And they might send somebody worse.’ I stepped close and hugged him. ‘I’m really sorry about your iPad. Was there anything important on it?’

  ‘Nothing irreplaceable. Don’t worry about it.’

  I twiddled with a button on his jacket. ‘I spoiled my sheets as well. Did you really hit Dr Williams?’

  ‘Yes! He said something about the credibility of your condition so I slapped him. It was worth it just to see the look on his face.’

  ‘Credibility of my condition? What does that mean?’

  ‘It doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘It must mean something because you hit him.’

  ‘Come on! Let’s do the shopping!’ He tried to pull me towards the kitchen but I pulled away from him:

  ‘Matthew, why did you hit him?’

  ‘Sarah, for God’s sake!’ He folded his arms. ‘Look, they were supposed to keep me informed. Then the other day you said there were three research associates. There were originally two. So I went over to the hospital to find out what was going on, and I discovered that Della Brown had joined their team of researchers.’

  ‘Dr Brown?’

  ‘Sarah, she’s not Dr Brown. She’s Detective Sergeant Brown.’

  ‘She said she was a forensic psychologist.’

  ‘Bullshit! She’s a fucking cop! Sarah, the police were investigating the possibility that you might be inventing a lost memory to conceal something.’

  ‘Conceal what?’

  ‘I don’t … Don’t worry about it. Dr Gray’s putting a stop to it. I phoned him Tuesday afternoon before I came here.’

  ‘Won’t I see Della Brown anymore?’

  ‘Not pretending to be a doctor, you won’t.’

  I wandered over to the sofa. I’ve always found thinking comes that much easier when I’m sitting down. I grappled to recall Tuesday’s interview. ‘She asked me to go to lunch. We went to a sandwich bar because Dr Williams was having an emergency.’

  ‘Yeah, the emergency was me. Della Brown was probably told to get you out of the way in case you ran into me shouting at your psycho-consultant.’ He sat down next to me. ‘Did you enjoy your lunch?’

  ‘I had a ham sandwich.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Did you eat it?’

  ‘Yes. It was disgusting. But she bought it for me so I had to eat it.’

  Matthew leaned back, his face serious. ‘Sarah, when she bought you the sandwich, she asked you what you wanted, and you said ham, right?’

  ‘No. She said it was all they had.’

  ‘A sandwich bar with only ham sandwiches?’

  I noticed Matthew’s eyes turn to anger. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘She was testing you. She’d have known you don’t eat ham.’

  ‘Why don’t I eat ham?’

  Matthew sighed. ‘Because you’re a vegetarian.’

  ‘I’m a vegetarian?’

  ‘Yes, well a partial one. You don’t eat meat. Just fish.’

  ‘And, if I refused the ham, it would prove I could remember that I didn’t eat meat?’

  ‘Yes!’ He leaned forward into his hands. ‘This whole obfuscation …’

  ‘I can’t remember what that means.’

  ‘It means deceiving people. This cop-doctor thing, it’s an infringement of your rights. I phoned my brother …’

  ‘Have you
got a brother?’

  ‘Yes, Nick’s a barrister. He said they were on very thin ice deceiving you like that. It’s probably why Williams is choosing not to press charges. Anyway, now you know about her so it’s over. Nick suggested you make a formal complaint. He’ll help draft it.’

  I mulled that over. Then I smiled. ‘You’re like my knight in shining armour.’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, but Sir Lancelot never had to deal with the medical profession.’

  ‘There was Merlin.’

  Matthew nodded. Thoughtfully. ‘What do you remember, Sarah?’

  ‘I’m not pretending!’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. It’s just difficult to understand how you can remember Merlin and Sir Lancelot. But you can’t remember me.’