Falling in Love in New York

by HILL, MELISSA

  The conversation came to an end when their respective therapists returned to the treatment room to carry out the next part of their ‘Chocolate Heaven’ experience.

  Next came a luxurious, exfoliating chocolate mint body scrub (which Abby didn’t mind at all), then a pampering manicure where the girls’ hands were dipped in a chocolate milkshake soap, massaged in chocolate whipped cream, and then sealed with heated chocolate paraffin. Afterwards was the pedicure – a warm milk footbath and hot vanilla and brown sugar scrub which left Abby’s toes tingling. Finally, she and Caroline each had a full body massage with warmed cocoa butter oils, making their skin feeling silky smooth and smelling out-of-this-world gorgeous.

  The entire experience was topped off with a mouth-watering glass of hot chocolate and biscotti, and as the girls relaxed in white robes with their treats yet again Abby marvelled at the huge amount of trouble and effort her sister had gone to in order to make this day special.

  “I have never, ever experienced anything like that before,” she said, when later that evening, they finally returned to hotel Both shattered from the day’s adventures, they’d decided to stay in and order a light snack from room service rather than head out again and Abby was lazing around on one of the room’s comfy beds watching Caroline try on her newly bought clothes.

  “Well, maybe you should treat yourself now and again,” her sister replied, before muttering quietly. “God knows nobody else did.”

  “What?” Abby asked, sitting up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Turning away from the full-length mirror, Caroline bit her lip. “Look, I’m sorry, I promised myself I wouldn’t say anything; after all it’s in the past now and today is all about spoiling you really …”

  “Caroline,” Abby said. “Just spit it out, will you? I won’t be annoyed, I promise you.” Or at least Abby hoped she wouldn’t be annoyed.

  “Well...” her sister sighed. “I just felt that when you started going out with Kieran that you lost some of your … I don’t know, your spark or something.”

  “When I started going out with him?” Abby repeated, confused. She knew she’d turned into some kind of dreary hermit by retreating into herself after she and Kieran finished, she realised that now, but what was all this about beforehand?

  “I’m sorry, and look it’s not really my place to say it but Abby, I never really felt that you two were suited, none of us did, the family I mean.”

  “Well evidently you were all right.” Even though it had been a while since the break-up, it still hurt to hear this now.

  “Look I’m not trying to make you feel bad or anything, and please don’t take this the wrong way but long before you two broke up I felt that he’d taken away a lot of your oomph and zest for life.” Caroline paused before adding quietly. “He was quite controlling, wasn’t he?”

  Controlling? Abby supposed that yes that might have been one way of describing him. But not controlling in a bad sense, Kieran was just more of a…perfectionist really. Which was why he’d left Abby for the prettier and much more together Jessica. And essentially she knew now, taking with him every last ounce of confidence she’d possessed.

  “Look, I’m sorry I brought it up,” Caroline said again, when she didn’t answer. “Now really isn’t the time for this, not when we’re having such a lovely time. But to be honest, Abby, since the accident I’ve begun seeing a side of you I thought was lost, the more fun-loving, optimistic, game for anything side. And there’s a side of me – an awful side mind you–that can’t help thinking that maybe that bump on the head did you some good as well as harm.”

  Abby smiled. “Funnily enough, I’m beginning to think the very same thing.”

  Chapter 19

  “So a good day all round then?” Hannah said, when Abby had finished telling her all about her recent exploits.

  “It was great,” she said smiling.

  “Well, your sister certainly sounds like a very generous person, all those clothes and of course your lovely Tiffany bracelet.”

  Abby dangled it on her wrist. “Yes, and I feel so awful now for misjudging her like that.” She’d also explained to Hannah how she’d been wrong in assuming that Caroline was showy and insensitive.

  “It happens in families, don’t beat yourself up about it too much. But apart from all this recent activity,” she said, sitting forward in her chair, “how are you otherwise? Have you had any more headaches or noticed any more changes from day to day?”

  “Nope.” Abby wasn’t going to mention the hairbrush-in-the-fridge incident because she honestly didn’t think that doing such a thing was anything other than a case of simple absentmindedness. Everyone did those kinds of things now and again, didn’t they? Things like searching for car keys when they’re already in your hand, or sunglasses when they’re on your head. So, it was nothing and if she mentioned the incident to Hannah the psychologist would probably only jump on it as more proof that her brain was indeed going mushy.

  “Nothing at all?” She sounded sceptical, almost as if she knew Abby was trying to hide something. Which of course, wasn’t the case.

  “No, absolutely nothing. Yes, the headaches come and go and still I get tired when reading but other than that nothing. And I was thinking…” she began, deciding this was as good a time as any to broach the subject. “I was thinking that seeing as I am OK, we don’t really need to keep doing this, do we? You know having these meetings.”

  “You want to give up our sessions?”

  “Pretty much, yes.” Abby couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Hannah was lovely and it was nice to be able to talk to someone about all this, but at the same time she wanted to move on with her life now and put the injury and more importantly, talk of the injury behind her. Coming in every week to see Hannah and have the psychologist monitor her behaviour made this very difficult to do.

  “Abby, it’s only been a few months since your– ” She paused a little and seemed to be about to say something but caught herself, “since your injury. Medically, it’s still very early days yet. While I’m pleased that you don’t seem to be experiencing any problems, at least none that you can identify – ”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you seem so determined that there’s nothing wrong with you that you may very well be ignoring the signs. Don’t worry, this is perfectly normal behaviour and I see it all the time with my patients and sometimes – even with their families. Nobody likes to admit to problems where their mental capacities or brain function is concerned, which is understandable, but at the same time can be very dangerous.” Then her voice softened. “Abby I’m not accusing you or anything, or implying that this is deliberate on your part, I’m just concerned that the situation is still very fragile. As far as I’m concerned, it’s still very early days and we don’t want to run ahead of ourselves until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  Abby said nothing, and tried hard to fight back her frustration coupled with more than a little disappointment.

  “I know what you’re thinking and I’m sorry. But as your neuropsychologist it would be irresponsible of me to agree to your discontinuing our sessions. At the same time, I can’t force you to attend them either, but you should be aware that in order for us to grant the necessary approval for your eventual return to work, we need to be one hundred percent confident of your capacities.” This was all said in the kind, friendly tone the psychologist always used, but Abby recognised the covert warning in there too.

  While she was disappointed that Hannah wasn’t willing to let her off just yet, at the same time she wasn’t too surprised. Like her mother, the doctors were convinced that memory problems were inevitable.

  They simply didn’t share Abby’s faith and utter determination to overcome this and fight it every step of the way.

  A few days later, she was sitting at home and trying to find something more interesting to do than cleaning the flat (again!) or watching depressingly-boring
daytime TV, when she got a phone call.

  “Hi Ms Ryan, it’s Tina from the American Holidays Travel Centre.”

  “Hi Tina, how are you?”

  “Good thanks. I’m just calling in relation to the payment for your trip to California.”

  Abby had since wasted no time in booking the flights, hotels and of course, the all-important convertible. They would be leaving mid-April and full payment of the holiday was due.

  “Yes, I sent you a cheque at the end of last week,” Abby told her. “Didn’t you get it?”

  “Well yes, we did get it and that’s why I’m calling you actually. It’s just something small and I probably should have noticed it myself when it came in, but we got the cheque sent back from the bank this morning saying that it’s out of date. I had a look at it and it has last years’ date on it instead of this years’. Easy mistake, I’m always doing that kind of thing myself, but you know how fussy the banks are.”

  “Oh.” Abby felt a prickle of anxiety running down her spine.

  “So I’m putting it back in the post to you today, and if you could just cross out the ‘07 and put in the ‘08 and then initial the change, it should be fine. I’ve made a note on the file so there won’t be any issue with late payment or anything. Is that alright?”

  “Sure, that’ll be fine. Sorry about that.”

  “No problem,” Tina was all chat. “As I said, I’m always doing the same bloody thing myself, I never know where my mind is sometimes!”

  Having promised to send back the amended cheque as soon as possible, Abby hung up the phone, unsure what to think.

  Like the hairbrush, this was probably just another case of absentmindedness, wasn’t it? Or could it be, as Hannah had suggested only recently, a symptom of something more? No, Abby thought, pushing the idea firmly out of her brain, of course it was just absentmindedness, everyone did things like that at one time or another especially when writing the first cheque of a new year. But wasn’t this year… Abby’s heart hammered with fear, as a horrible sense of disorientation suddenly overcame her. No, that had to be it, she convinced herself, refusing to entertain any other explanation, it was actually the first cheque of 2008 she’d written and she just hadn’t been thinking straight.

  End of story.

  Her baby brother’s idea of what might constitute a memorable experience wasn’t something Abby was particularly looking forward to, so when almost two weeks after the London trip she found herself zooming around a racetrack doing over a hundred miles an hour in a bright red Ferrari–and loving it–she was completely taken by surprise.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Dermot said, upon explaining to Abby what he’d planned, “and yes, maybe this is as much for me as it is for you. But trust me, it’ll be great.”

  As arranged, she’d called to the apartment he shared with friends earlier that Saturday morning, not at all sure what to expect, as like most twenty-something males her brother’s interests mostly consisted of football, rubgy and lots and lots of beer.

  “I think you’re very brave, putting yourself in his hands,” Caroline had said, when in London she and Abby tried to envision what Dermot had in store for her. “God only knows what he’ll come up with.”

  And although initially she’d been a bit disappointed by her brother’s predictably laddish suggestion, by the time they reached the racetrack in Kildare and spied the impressive selection of high-powered cars lined up in front of them, she began to think that this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Following the head injury, while she wasn’t exactly prohibited from driving, the doctors had recommended she stay off the road other than when absolutely necessary.

  “It’s only in case you become disorientated, and perhaps make an ill-advised manoeuvre.” Hannah had explained.

  Apparently though, Dermot had had the wherewithal to consult Hannah about his plans and according to him, the psychologist had given the idea her blessing.

  And while her own trusty Ford Focus couldn’t hold a candle to the cars here, Abby had always enjoyed driving, and despite herself she couldn’t now help but wonder what it would feel like to really let loose on the open road.

  She soon found out.

  Firstly, she and Dermot each had a trial run doing three laps of the track in a lowly Subaru. While her little brother was happy to tear around pushing speeds of a up to a hundred miles an hour, Abby was more sedate, preferring instead to simply get her bearings on the track before the main event.

  Then the famous Ferrari 360 was wheeled out and when Abby lowered herself into the driving seat normally reserved for Formula One racers or the rich and famous, she couldn’t help but feel a little over-awed and very cool (although this effect was slightly spoiled by Dermot grinning maniacally at her from the sidelines).

  Then, when she’d been belted in, and the instructor directed her to rev the engine and she heard (and felt) the famous Ferrari howl, a vicarious thrill ran down her spine.

  Still, this was nothing compared to the thrill she felt when putting the car through its paces on the open road.

  Barely a brush with the accelerator sent the car zooming straight down the track, and trying to control the speed on the tight corners was terrifying but at the same time heart-thumping fantastic.

  Abby was sure the instructor on the passenger seat could hear her laughing uproariously through her safety helmet as the car zoomed along the tarmac, but then again that was probably the typical reaction of most people, wasn’t it?

  Either way, she didn’t care. This–this hair-raising but at the same time, amazingly liberating feeling of almost complete and utter abandon–was incredible.

  Yet again a member of her family had got it right and as she took the Ferrari around the track for the fourth (and sadly) final time, Abby wondered again if they truly knew her better than she knew herself.

  Her heart was still thumping wildly when she hauled herself out of the driver’s seat and she hoped against hope that Dermot had as per her instructions remembered to take a picture of her zipping along in the Ferrari.

  On the way back to Dublin they stopped for lunch in a service station off the motorway.

  “God that was brilliant!” Dermot was almost dumbstruck from his own experience with the racecar, which took him to the car’s max speeds of one hundred and eighty miles per hour. “And I told you you’d enjoy it.”

  “Well I wasn’t sure about it at first but yes, it was really, really great,” Abby enthused. “And I’m delighted you got photos although I don’t know how I’m going to make out myself from an out-of-focus red strip! But don’t worry, I’ll be transferring the whole experience to my computer diaries later.”

  Dermot was silent for a moment and when he spoke again, his tone was gentle. “It must be strange to think that you’ll forget everything that’s happening now.”

  Abby shook her head. “Not going to happen,” she said determinedly. “Think about what we did just now. How could anyone forget that?” She grinned. “As far as I’m concerned this is all working–I’m really fighting it. I had a brilliant day out with Caroline, I’ve got the road-trip with Erin coming up soon, and then I’m off to Italy with Mum.” She chuckled, thinking again about the list, which had now lengthened considerably!

  “I can’t believe you’re going to do Vegas, you lucky cow – I’d kill to go there.” Dermot said. Then he gave her a sideways look. “To be honest, you’re the last person I thought would go somewhere like that.”

  Abby looked up from her salad. “Why?”

  “Well, don’t kill me, but I always thought you felt you were a bit…beneath all that kind of stuff.”

  “Beneath it?”

  “Yeah, you and …” Then his face reddened, and the rest of his sentence trailed off.

  “Me and Kieran?” Abby finished for him.

  “Yeah. I’m sorry, but you’ve probably guessed by now that me and him never really gelled. I probably just didn’t know him very well and I’m sure
he was a great guy once you got to know to him and all that, but I always felt he was a bit…superior.”

  Abby sighed, realising she was hearing this kind of thing a lot lately. “I’m sorry Dermo, I honestly had no idea you felt that way. As for me thinking that certain things were beneath me … well, I really don’t know where you got that from as it really couldn’t be further from the truth!”

  “Yeah, well I suppose Kieran reckoned that a lowly grease monkey isn’t the same as a high-flying taxman.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? He wasn’t a taxman, he was a tax inspector– and I’m sure he still is,” she added wryly.

  “Anyway, I don’t mean to upset you or anything. And this might sound stupid but I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re much better off without the guy. And what he did was way wrong and–”

  “Yes, well anyway,” Abby didn’t really want to get into that just then. “What about you? Anyone interesting in your life?”

  When Dermot reddened slightly at this, her eyes widened. “What? You mean there is! Well come on, tell me more, who is she and why haven’t we heard anything about her?”

  “Well, it’s nothing really,” her brother said gruffly, but Abby could see that inwardly he was squirming at having to discuss his love life with his older sister. “I’ve known her for a while so… as I said, it’s nothing really.”

  “Nothing my ass. You should see your face!” Abby couldn’t resist milking this for all it was worth. It was obvious her baby brother was smitten with this girl, whoever she was. “What’s her name and when do we meet her?”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake, it’s nothing like that. As I said, it’s just a casual thing and that’s all there is to it. But look, whatever you do, don’t go blabbing to Mam about it. She’d have me driven demented going on about like you are, and I don’t want that.”