by Lucy Gordon
“Colly Davids is a stubborn, pigheaded bigot,” Uncle Nick growled. “And if you’ve been listening to him you’ve been wasting your time.”
“When do we see this cabinet?” Sarah asked.
“Soon. I’ll have to borrow Ted’s van to fetch it.”
Soon after supper Justin yawned and said he was going to bed. He wanted to call Greg on his mobile phone, and he thought Sarah would like to be alone with her uncle. Besides, the curious looks Nick was giving him were beginning to make him uneasy.
For a long time after he’d gone Uncle Nick was sunk in thought. A heaviness seemed to have settled over him. At last he said, “So that’s him.”
“Pardon?”
“Darling, I’m not a fool. That’s Nicky’s father.”
“Shh!” she said urgently and went to the door. But the corridor outside was empty. “I don’t know why you should say that—”
“Because his name’s Justin, which is Nicky’s first name, too. Because his eyes are the same. And because you light up for him, which is strange if you only met him yesterday. But you didn’t, did you? You met him two years ago.”
Sarah dropped on her knees beside his chair and spoke urgently. “Uncle Nick, you’ve got to promise not to say a word. He doesn’t know. He told you what’s happened to his memory. He thinks we only met yesterday, and I want to keep it that way for a while. It wouldn’t help to tell him if he can’t remember. He might think I was making it up and go away.”
“And would that be so terrible?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” she said huskily. “Yes, it would.”
He stroked her face. “He hurt you so much once. I don’t want to see him hurt you again.”
“But he’s so different now.”
“And how long will that last?”
She shook her head mutely, for it was the question she asked herself all the time.
“Isn’t he really the same hard man underneath?” Uncle Nick persisted.
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I hope not.”
“People don’t change, love.”
“They can,” she said passionately. “Sometimes they can. Promise me that you’ll say nothing.”
“All right, darling. You must do this your way. But please be careful.”
Next day Ted readily agreed to lend his van. Uncle Nick announced that he was too tired to make the journey again.
“You do it,” he said to Sarah. “Justin, why don’t you go along and see a bit of the country hereabouts?”
So it was settled, and Justin, Sarah and the baby piled into the van to set off for Stanways, the great country house whose contents had been sold at auction. As they were about to start up Colly appeared, on his way to buy some tea. “Are you off to Stanways?” he called.
Sarah leaned out. “Yes, we’re going to fetch something for Uncle Nick,” she said guardedly.
“Ah, yes. I heard he was at the sale. I looked the house over last year. Nothing of interest. There was a cabinet they were trying to pass off as Hepplewhite. Good fake, but I expect Nick saw through it. Bye!” He went into the shop, chuckling.
“Oh, dear!” Sarah said.
Justin drove the first part of the way. They stopped at a café on the coast and drank coffee looking out at the glittering sea. “Why do you keep flexing your hand like that?” Sarah asked.
“It’s a long time since I’ve driven a vehicle so— so…”
“Prehistoric?” she asked mischievously.
“Thank you, yes. I suppose I might have driven one in the last two years, but I somehow doubt it.”
“No, you—” Sarah checked herself hastily. She’d been about to say something about his sleek, gleaming car, forgetting that he didn’t know she’d ever seen it. “You’ve probably never even seen one so old,” she amended hastily.
In fact Justin had said nothing that might connect him with the wealth and power that were his. His clothes were casual, and he’d removed his expensive watch, replacing it with one he’d bought at the newsagent for less than ten pounds. Some deep instinct he hadn’t analyzed had told him to approach this new situation without baggage from the past.
When they restarted the journey Sarah took the wheel. “I’ve driven this thing before, and I’ve got the muscles to prove it,” she said with a laugh. “You don’t mind sitting with Nick, do you?”
The child was strapped into his safety seat at the back, and Justin took his place next to it. He talked to Nicky in a soft voice for the rest of the journey. Sarah couldn’t make out much, but now and then she heard Nicky’s voice raised in a gurgle of laughter. Justin seemed to be explaining something seriously, not talking down, but treating Nicky in a man-to-man fashion that they obviously both found pleasant. She smiled to herself.
They reached Stanways in the early afternoon. It was a magnificent house that had fallen on hard times. All the furniture had been auctioned off, and several other collection vans were already in place. They were taken inside to see the cabinet, which was certainly a beautiful piece with an elegant design and a satin finish. A workman helped Justin carry it outside and load it into the van. He lashed it into place with ropes, and they were ready for the return journey.
“I’m starving,” Justin announced at last. “Let me buy you a good lunch.”
“But I’ve brought things for a picnic,” she said. “You can’t eat indoors on a day like this.”
They found a sheltered spot by a stream. Sarah took a thick blanket from the back of the truck and spread it on the ground under a tree. Justin unpacked the basket, listing the contents as he did so.
“Chicken salad, rolls, pâté, wine, coffee—you thought of everything.”
He buttered the rolls while Sarah fed Nicky. A deep, physical contentment pervaded her. It was bliss to sit there, drinking wine, watching the sun slanting through the branches and listening to the soft bubble of the water over stones. But the greatest happiness was to share these things with Justin and know that he, too, was enjoying what he would once have despised.
“Do you think Colly’s right about that cabinet?” Justin asked after a while. “It looks a wonderful piece to me.”
“I think it’s lovely, too, but Colly knows his subject. If he’s given the thumbs-down, I’m afraid that’s it. Poor Uncle Nick. He’ll be so disappointed.”
“Why does it mean so much to him? Is he trying to make his fortune?”
“Oh, no, it’s not the money. If he ever finds the real thing he won’t sell it, he’ll treasure it as proof that his philosophy of life was right, after all.”
“What’s his philosophy?”
“That no matter how bad life seems there’s always hidden beauty, if you look for it. I remember him saying things like that all through my childhood. Uncle Nick’s lost so many people. He was close to his brother, my mother’s father, but he and his wife were killed in a car crash, so Uncle Nick took my mother in and treated her like a daughter. He loved her so much. He said she was the touch of beauty that made the tragedy bearable.
“My father went away when I was a child, and there was a divorce. Uncle Nick just said that we’d always have a home with him. And when Mom died four years ago, he said to me, ‘Nothing can be really bad as long as I have you.’ I broke his heart when I left because I wanted a more exciting life. But when I came home carrying Nicky, he just welcomed me without question. And he adores Nicky. He’s the touch of beauty now, the good that came out of bad. For me, too. Uncle Nick’s philosophy is catching.”
“And did it help you survive the bad?” Justin asked quietly.
“Oh, yes. I knew I had my miracle, and it would make everything worthwhile. I could never wish Nicky unborn. I only wish—”
She stopped. She’d been carried away by what she was saying and had almost forgotten who she was talking to. For a moment she’d hovered on the verge of saying she wished Nicky’s father could have shared the joy. Justin was looking at her with grave eyes.
“What do you wish?” h
e asked. “That he was here with you now?”
A flash of recklessness made her say, “He is here. He’ll never be far away from me.”
“Because you have his son?”
“Yes—and my memories.”
“Ah, yes, memories,” he said with a touch of bitterness. “You don’t know how valuable they are until you lose them.”
“Justin, I’m sorry. That was stupid and careless of me.”
“Don’t apologize. Why should you guard your tongue because I’m a freak?”
“You’re not a freak,” she protested warmly.
“Aren’t I? I feel like one to myself. I watched your face as you were talking. It was full of memories, happy ones and sad ones, but even the worst of them made up part of an experience that went to create you.”
“But you haven’t forgotten everything.”
“No, but I need to know what I was doing last year, and the year before. I can’t work because I can’t recognize my own decisions or my own thinking. Some of the things I did seem so bizarre to me I can’t believe it was me. I’m like a man’ who came back from the dead. I know my name, but I don’t know who I am.”
He finished on a cry of pain. The underlying tension that ruled his life these days had broken free, and he couldn’t control the feelings of desperation. But the next moment he forced himself to smile.
“Sorry about that. I’ve got no right to dump all this on you. It’s just that I find you so easy to talk to. After two days it’s like I’ve known you all my life. You don’t think I’m crazy, do you?”
“No,” she said tenderly. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I want you to talk to me. I want you to tell me everything.”
“You’d find it pretty weird.”
“Try me.”
Justin ran his hand through his hair. “I hate being confused,” he said somberly, “especially about myself. The doctors said it would start coming back bit by bit, but—nothing. Just a solid block of emptiness. Why? Why those two years? Why not two months? Or five years? Or ten? Why have I blotted out that time and no other?
“I feel as if it’s all there, waiting for me, just around a corner. I only have to turn that corner, but whenever I try there’s something I can’t get past.”
“Isn’t there anyone who can tell you what you need to know?”
“Sure. My brother’s told me a lot, but—in some ways that’s the worst thing, when someone tells you and you still can’t remember. It sounds ungrateful, but you end up wishing they hadn’t said anything. And sometimes—people make it worse by pursuing their own agenda, claiming things that aren’t true, counting on you not knowing the difference.” He was thinking of Marguerite, but he didn’t want to introduce her name into the magical atmosphere developing between himself and Sarah.
Sarah blessed the instinct that had made her keep quiet. How much damage she might have caused by unloading the story onto a man who’d grown suspicious! “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked cautiously.
“It was a day when nothing special happened. That’s the strange part. Everything was the same, except that the work was a little rushed because there was a big reception that day. I’d taken over a firm called Carter Vernon, and I was marking the merger with a shindig at Jaquino’s restaurant.”
Sarah’s heart began to beat faster. She’d known that Justin’s amnesia covered their relationship, but not that the two converged so precisely. His memory stopped just a few hours before their meeting. Could it be no more than coincidence?
“Do you recall anything about that reception?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
“Not a thing. I awoke in the hospital three months ago thinking it was tomorrow. I’ve heard about it. I’ve even seen a photograph that was taken that night, but it’s like looking at a stranger.”
“What did the photograph show?”
“Jack Vernon and me standing together, wearing official smiles. He was trying to look as if he didn’t hate my guts for stealing his firm.”
“Stealing?”
“That’s how he saw it. I paid a good price, but he didn’t really want to merge. I hadn’t given him much choice.” Justin stopped, looking into the middle distance at the things he’d discovered about himself that made him uncomfortable.
Something in his frown and far-off look made Sarah wonder if he was on the verge of remembering, and she was suddenly afraid. It was too soon. He was still too close to the old Justin. If he remembered now, he might leave her. Just a little longer, her heart pleaded. Just a little longer.
Chapter Four
The spell was broken by Nicky, who was beginning to take his first steps and wanted to test his skills. As he’d done before, he seized Justin’s arm and hauled himself to his feet. Justin immediately gave him his attention, as if glad of an excuse to escape his thoughts.
“Go to Mommy,” Justin urged. When Nicky had toddled the two steps to Sarah’s open arms Justin moved to widen the distance between them. “To me,” he said, laughing, and Nicky waddled on his stumpy legs, crowing with achievement.
“Come here, darling,” Sarah called. Her eyes met Justin’s in a moment of shared understanding. This was how she’d longed for things to be, how she’d thought they never would be.
Suddenly Nicky lost his balance and sat down with a thump. The next moment he let out a deafening bawl. Sarah hurriedly picked him up. “Poor darling,” she soothed. “Did you hurt yourself?”
But instead of letting her comfort him Nicky fought to be free, roaring louder than ever.
“Give him to me,” Justin said, moving closer and lifting Nicky from her arms. “Hey, c’mon, now. There’s nothing to cry about. You’ll get the hang of it. Try it this way.” He held Nicky upright so that his feet were on the ground but he was steadied by Justin’s hands. Nicky’s sobs quietened as he stamped his feet up and down and the look of concentration returned to his face. He seemed to understand that he was safe while Justin held him.
“It’s not like him to cry like that,” Sarah said worriedly. “I hope he isn’t hurt.”
“He’s not hurt,” Justin said with a grin. “Just good and mad. He was doing so well, and he’s cross with himself for not doing better.”
“And how do you know that, Mr. Baby Psychologist?”
“I was just the same. My mom used to tell me that, when I was learning to walk, I’d get so frustrated when I fell over I’d yell the place down. I wanted to be able to do it all at once. He’s that way, too.”
“Yes,” Sarah said, half to herself. “He is.”
“Well, I guess all babies are like that, aren’t they?”
No, she thought. Not all of them. But your son is like you.
Nicky was making eager little grunts, stamping his feet. Justin released him, and he floundered to his mother, then back, and back again. But at last even he grew tired. Sarah took him in her arms and settled him against her.
“He’s a great little kid,” Justin said. “A fighter already, and he’s going to grow up ready to take what he wants from the world.” He saw a shadow cross her face. “What is it?”
“I’m just not sure that’s what I wish for him. Surely there’s more to life than taking from the world?”
“Of course. But you have to know how to take, or you’ll be taken from. Fighting is good, Sarah. It’s fight or be crushed.” When she still looked troubled he said, “Don’t you want Nicky to grow into a man folks . respect?”
“Yes, but not because he can make them afraid of him. I want people to respect him because he’s kind and good and gentle, and because he understands that people matter.”
“Well, of course people matter but, well…”
“But you don’t get on in the world by worrying about their feelings?” Sarah asked gently..
Justin reddened. She’d extended his words further than he liked, and done it so accurately it was as though she’d looked into his mind. Uneasily, he sensed that she wouldn’t approve of everything she found there.
Hot, argumentative words rose to his lips. He’d always been impatient with those who disagreed with him, and he couldn’t relax until he’d overcome them with argument. But something in Sarah’s soft brown eyes made him fall silent. It was as though she’d withdrawn from him: only by a little, but he minded.
“I guess maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said awkwardly. He was unpracticed in saying such things.
Sarah pulled on a blade of grass, not looking at him. “I think when it comes to making people do what you want, you know exactly what you’re talking about.”
“Hey, where did that come from?” he demanded.
“Nowhere,” she said quickly. “I’m sorry. I had no right to say it. I daresay I’m wrong.”
“No,” he said after a moment. “You’re not wrong. It’s just kind of unnerving that you can understand-me so well. I am like that. In business it’s not a bad way to be—some of the time.”
Sarah felt she’d come close to revealing her secret knowledge. She cast around for a new and less dangerous subject. “So anyway, your mom taught you to be an expert with babies?” she said in a lighter, teasing tone.
He jumped as though the thought alarmed him. “Expert? No way. I’ve got a younger brother, and there’s seven years between us but I never had to look after him when he was a baby.”
But in a way he had looked after Greg, he realized. He’d taken him into his firm, swearing that his brother would never have to struggle as he had. He’d been protective, teaching him the things a businessman had to know, like efficiency, high standards and ruthlessness. Now he wondered if that was enough.
There were so many other things that mattered, like how it felt to lie back on a summer’s day, smell the new-mown grass and drink coffee with a woman who was special. He’d never taught Greg that these were important, because until now he hadn’t known. For the first time he wondered if his influence on his brother had been good.
The babble of the water and the warmth of the sun were hypnotic. He watched Sarah, her head bent over Nicky, who was grunting contentedly in her arms. As before, the sight of her sent cares from his mind, and the strain seemed to fall away from him.
