Forgotten (In The Shadows, Book One)

by Catherine Gardiner

  “I’m still interested in trying it if it will answer some questions about my past, but I’ve had time to think about it and I don’t like the thought of not being in control. My main worry is that I’ll lose some of the new memories I’ve made with the Sinclairs. So, erm, I guess what I want to know is … is it dangerous?”

  “I would never let you come to any harm, and if by any chance you do get distressed then I’ll bring you back straight away. You have what is classed as retrograde amnesia which means that, due to your head trauma, you are unable to recall most of your past, but it should return given time. From our sessions though I also believe you may have dissociative amnesia that is caused because, subconsciously at least, you don’t want to remember the day of your accident and the events that led up to it. If I am right, hypnotherapy may help unlock significant memories so you can begin to form a clearer picture of who you were, and still are. If it doesn’t work you won’t lose any memories you already have, but it will at least relax you and you may be able to take away a few techniques to use on yourself when you’re feeling overly anxious.”

  Reaching for a tissue, Katrina blew her nose, then stood and forced herself to smile at Doctor Clairmont.

  “Do I take your response to mean that you would like to try hypnosis?” Doctor Clairmont asked from the couch.

  “Yes,” Katrina agreed, nodding.

  “That’s great!” Doctor Clairmont beamed. She climbed from her seat and returned to her desk, adding notes to Katrina’s file. “I really think it’ll help. Now, do you have any questions you’d like to ask about it before we begin?”

  “Only whether I’ll remember anything I say during my trance.”

  “I’m afraid not, Katrina,” Doctor Clairmont said, shaking her head. “But I could video you on my camcorder if that’s alright with you,” Doctor Clairmont continued.

  Katrina gave a nod.

  “Thank you,” Doctor Clairmont replied. “Can you please go and make yourself comfortable on the couch?”

  I hope I’m doing the right thing, Katrina thought as she lay down where Doctor Clairmont had directed her to.

  “Comfortable?” Doctor Clairmont asked, picking her notepad and pen up from her desk.

  Katrina nodded.

  “Good, now can you close your eyes and take a couple of deep breaths,” Doctor Clairmont said, her voice soothing.

  Katrina started to follow the instructions that Doctor Clairmont was giving her, when suddenly a bright violet light invaded Katrina’s brain and began to pulsate to the beat of her heart. Katrina felt as though she was floating, but just as quickly as the light had started, it disappeared, and Katrina felt herself begin to fall.

  When the feeling had stopped, she opened her eyes. What she saw surprised her, as she was still in Doctor Clairmont’s office and yet she was not. It was as though her mind had split into two; her body was still on the leather couch, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling gently, while Doctor Clairmont sat making notes beside where she lay.

  How can this be possible? Katrina asked herself.

  “Katrina?” a voice called through the veil of her thoughts.

  “Yes,” the girl on the couch replied, her eyes still closed and her muscles relaxed.

  “I’m going to ask you a couple of questions. Is that okay?” the voice came again.

  “Yes,” the girl replied.

  This is not happening. How can I speak to you when I am not there in my body?

  “Katrina, relax. Let go of your conscious mind and let your subconscious wake.”

  Katrina obeyed Doctor Clairmont’s instructions. Once again the feeling of falling swept over her, but when the feeling stopped this time Katrina was aware that a picture of her past was opening up in front of her. A meadow.

  “I am now speaking to Katrina’s subconscious. Do you understand?” Doctor Clairmont asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now I would like you to go back to a time where you were happy.”

  “I’ll try,” Katrina responded, and as she said the words, the picture of the meadow began to surround her.

  “What do you see, Katrina?” Doctor Clairmont asked, her voice far away.

  “A meadow,” Katrina answered simply, “and I can see myself sitting underneath a tree.”

  “What do you see yourself doing?”

  “I am looking at the clouds making shapes.”

  “Okay, that’s good. Katrina, I want you to become the girl that is sitting under the tree. Don’t worry; once I count to five and clap, you’ll come straight back and wake up. Just embrace the scene before you,” Doctor Clairmont said, her voice still soothing and as quiet as a whisper.

  “Wait!” Katrina screamed, shaking her head from side to side. “I’m not ready!”

  “Yes, you are. Relax and let go of the fear, you’re in a safe place and nothing can hurt you here.”

  Katrina took a couple of deep breaths, and looked at the girl who was still sitting underneath the tree. With one final look at the girl on the couch, she whispered, “I’m ready now.”

  No sooner had the words escaped her lips than there was another flash of bright violet light and Katrina had merged with the girl who was sitting under the tree.

  “Something’s wrong!” Katrina gasped. Her muscles tensed and her hands gripped the leather cushions on the couch, sweat beginning to plaster her hair to her forehead and face.

  “Nothing is wrong,” the whisper continued, “you’re just scared, that’s all. It’s natural and it will fade soon.”

  Katrina began to slowly relax and accept what was happening to her, but at a small corner in the back of her mind she still felt uneasy. She would be glad when all this would be over and she would be back in her bedroom, talking to Jessica about boys and starting school in a couple of weeks’ time.

  As Katrina slowly began to fall back into her trance, she was aware of sights and sounds around the girl she was becoming. The meadow she was in was filled with sweet-smelling flowers such as bluebells and buttercups, and when Katrina looked down to see what she was wearing, she found that she was in a long old-fashioned dress with several petticoats under the skirt.

  “Katrina, can you still hear me?” a ghost voice whispered.

  Yes, Katrina replied to herself.

  “Can you tell me who you are?”

  Before Katrina could register the question in her mind, her lips parted and she started to speak in a voice unlike her own. “My name is Katrina Elizabeth Harvey.”

  “Now can you tell me how old you are?”

  “Seventeen; in four months I’ll be eighteen.”

  “And do you know where you are?”

  “Yes, I am in a meadow behind my house.”

  “Which country are you in? Are you in America?”

  Katrina began to laugh softly. “No, I am not from the New World, but I have heard father speak of this America. I am in Greendale, Buckinghamshire. In England!”

  “Can you now tell me what year it is?”

  “The year? Why? Do you not know?”

  “Yes, I know; I’d just like it if you told me.”

  “All right then. It is the eighth of June in the year of 1762.”

  For a moment Doctor Clairmont sat in shocked silence, before asking, “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  Katrina did not reply; a noise had broken her concentration and Katrina looked around to see a rabbit hop into the clearing in front of her.

  After the rabbit had disappeared back into the long grass, Katrina returned to looking at the clouds making shapes.

  I must be going mad, hearing voices in my head. I’d better just forget the whole incident ever happened or mother might send me to live with Aunt Emma in Bath. And then who would look out for Suzanne and stop her from doing her silly stunts or cover for her when she disobeys father? Katrina thought absently.

  Two

  Katrina felt the warm, hazy sunshine on her face as she looked up at the clouds and dri
fted off into a daydream.

  A sudden noise startled her. Her spaniel Bonnie rushed toward her with something in its mouth. Katrina squinted, then –

  “How dare you kill a poor innocent rabbit!” Katrina yelled, jumping up in horror.

  The dog dropped the rabbit and looked up at her with its big soft brown eyes.

  Fortunately the rabbit was only stunned and scampered off to safety as soon as it was free. Softening, Katrina stooped and patted the dog’s head.

  “I didn’t mean to yell at you; it’s just that I feel peculiar today and everything’s annoying me.”

  Standing, Katrina began to walk toward her house. To Bonnie she called, “Come on, girl; let’s go home.” Wagging her tail, Bonnie obliged, trotting after her mistress.

  As Katrina neared home she sensed her sister and mother arguing. “Oh, not again.” Katrina sighed heavily.

  When she finally reached the house Katrina tried to hear the argument – but she could not make it out, so she pushed open the door dejectedly. Bonnie sprinted in toward the kitchen.

  “Watch it!” Katrina called down the empty hallway, then made her way to the parlor and went inside.

  “What is it about this time?” Katrina asked as she went to sit down.

  “Well,” her sister began, “Mother has just informed me that she and Father won’t let me go to the midsummer ball and I think they’re being unreasonable!”

  “Why do you want to go to the ball?” Katrina asked, feigning interest.

  “Because next year it’ll be my turn to be presented to society, when we go to London next spring, so I thought if I go to the ball I can see for myself,” Suzanne smiled innocently.

  Katrina rolled her eyes but remained silent.

  “You’re far too young to think about such matters,” Mrs. Harvey interjected.

  “I won’t be next spring! Mother, I am not your baby anymore!” Suzanne shrieked, slamming down the lid on the piano and jumping up to face her mother.

  “Suzanna Louisa Harvey! Sit down!” Mrs. Harvey cautioned.

  “Don’t you want me to have a good match? If I end up becoming a spinster it will be all your fault!” Suzanne screamed before she stalked out of the room, making sure the door slammed on the way out.

  Suzanne was a tall sixteen-year-old with a petite frame and hazel eyes. Her long blonde hair was always worn loose. Although Katrina loved her sister very much, she wished sometimes that she could lock Suzanne in the attic to keep her out of mischief.

  Later that day in Katrina’s bedroom, Suzanne was still talking about the ball to her sister. Katrina tried to suppress a yawn and failed miserably.

  “I’m not boring you, am I?” Suzanne asked.

  “No. I’m just a little tired, that’s all. Please continue.”

  “If you’re sure. Do you think Mother is being fair?”

  “I think that she and Father are just trying to protect you.”

  “Protect me? I don’t need protecting.”

  “Yes, you do. You think that you can take on the whole world, but we live in dangerous times and if you stay at home we know you are safe.”

  “But …”

  “I know it’s hard to understand and that it doesn’t seem fair now, but we have your best interests at heart.”

  “But you’re going to the ball.”

  “If I could get out of it, I would. I would much rather stay here with you.”

  “I just don’t understand why I can’t go.”

  Seeing that Suzanne was close to tears, Katrina reached for her sister’s hand and held it in hers. “Suzanne, do you trust me?”

  “Yes, you know I do.”

  “Then promise me something.”

  Seeing the concern in her older sister’s eyes, Suzanne said, “Anything.”

  “Just drop the notion of going to the Midsummer Ball.”

  Suzanne looked down at the floor and kicked at the rug scuffing the tip of her shoe, before replying in a barely audible voice, “Okay.”

  “Promise me, Suzanne.”

  “I promise.” Suzanne no sooner said the words when the tears she’d been holding in began to slide down her cheeks.

  Katrina pulled Suzanne into an embrace and kissed her sister’s forehead. After what seemed like a brief moment but was probably longer, their father entered the room.

  “Katrina!” Mr. Harvey said quietly. “I am sorry to interrupt you and your sister.”

  “Father, what’s wrong?” Katrina asked, breaking her embrace with Suzanne.

  “There has been an accident.”

  “Is it Mother?” Suzanne interjected, alarmed.

  “No, it’s not your mother. It’s Bonnie.” Turning his attention back to Katrina, Mr. Harvey continued, “One of the maids must have left the front door open. Bonnie saw that I was coming and decided to greet my carriage, but somehow she got caught up in one of the back wheels. Jack tried to avoid her but couldn’t turn the horse in time. It happened so quickly …”

  Katrina began to shake with disbelief. It couldn’t be true; Bonnie had been sleeping on Katrina’s pillow on her bed just earlier! But Katrina knew by the knot in her stomach that when she went to look at the pillow, she would find it empty.

  “Bonnie!” Katrina called hopefully for her beloved spaniel.

  Time seemed to stretch endlessly as Katrina waited for Bonnie to come padding into her room and jump onto her bed.

  “I’m sorry, Katrina,” Mr. Harvey said, reaching out to console his eldest daughter.

  “It’s not true!” Tears began to fall down Katrina’s face. “She is just hiding under the bed,” she continued disbelievingly.

  She knelt to peer under the bed – but there was only dust beneath it. Getting back up, Katrina pushed past Suzanne and their father to get out of her bedroom. Once at the top of the main staircase she rushed down it, nearly knocking over every maid that was in her way.

  When Katrina reached Bonnie, she knelt down, and picked up the bundle of blood-soaked fur. Gazing into the dog’s soft, dark eyes, so full of pain, tears streamed down her face and onto the dog’s matted coat.

  “Katrina?” came a low voice from behind her; her father’s.

  Holding Bonnie tighter in her arms, “Yes, Father?”

  “Give the dog to me.”

  Katrina hesitated, but knew if she handed over Bonnie to her father what would happen to her.

  “No, Bonnie’s mine and I won’t let you or anyone else take her away from me!” Katrina said to her father defiantly, before running off down the path with Bonnie still held tightly in her embrace.

  Moments later, the sound of quickened footsteps could be heard as Suzanne ran to catch up with her sister.

  When Suzanne found Katrina she was by the river at the back of their house, trying in vain to rip her petticoat to make some bandages for Bonnie.

  “Katrina?” Suzanne placed her hand on Katrina’s shoulder.

  Katrina looked up at Suzanne with tears of frustration in her eyes. “I can’t rip my petticoat.”

  Flopping onto the grass, Suzanne revealed her own petticoats and tore off a strip of white linen. Handing it to her sister, she said, “Here, use this. Mother said she would be getting me some more dresses and things the next time she accompanies Father to London.”

  Katrina managed a weak smile as she took the strip of linen from her sister and started to construct a makeshift bandage for Bonnie’s injuries. “Thank you.”

  “It is fine. Do you need any more?”

  “I think what you gave me will stem the blood flow a little but I don’t know what I am going to do. I don’t want to lose her. That’s why I disobeyed Father; if I gave her to him, he would have just shot her.”

  Suzanne winced. “We will figure something out.”

  “But Bonnie is running out of time. She is losing a lot of blood.”

  “I know that, but you getting worked up will not do Bonnie any good. We just have to think.”

  An uneasy silence descended over t
he girls as they tried to think of a way to help Bonnie, when out of the blue Katrina said, “I seem to remember something that my friend, Sarah Danvers, said about her father.”

  Suzanne snapped her fingers as if a sudden memory had come to her, “Yes, I think Victoria, Sarah’s sister, said something about how he had looked after their horses when one had gotten colic. I believe he is a doctor or something of that nature.”

  Katrina rose to her feet and dusted off the damp grass from the back of her dress. She carefully picked up Bonnie so she would not exacerbate her injuries and wrapped her cloak around them both, “We should make our way to the Danvers’; it is only a mile away or so, and we should be back home before nightfall.”

  After a brisk walk, the two arrived at the Danvers’ ivy-covered house, surrounded by sycamores. When the girls had been let inside the house by the Danvers’ butler, Mrs. Danvers came out of the library and approached the girls, who were standing in the hallway.

  “What’s the matter?” Mrs. Danvers asked, with a concerned tone to her voice, her brow furrowed.

  “It’s Bonnie, my dog; she’s had an accident,” Katrina answered.

  “Well take her into the parlor and let’s see what can be done,” Mrs. Danvers said with a smile.

  Mr. Danvers was already in the parlor and stood up when the girls and his wife entered the room; Katrina gently placed Bonnie in a chair that Mr. Danvers pointed to before asking if they had any old blankets.

  “Of course we have, my dear,” Mr. Danvers said cheerfully, as he dismissed one of the maids. A couple of minutes later the maid returned with some warm, soft blankets.

  “There you go, Miss. I hope these will be okay,” the maid said, handing the blankets over to Katrina.

  “Oh, the blankets are perfect. Thank you,” Katrina said with a wan smile.

  After Mr. Danvers had looked over Bonnie, he said, “She’ll be sore for a couple of days and she will need plenty of rest, but apart from that she’ll be fine. She is very lucky not to have any broken bones.”