Remember Me: The gripping psychological thriller with a jaw-dropping twist.

by Lynda Renham

  ‘It’s not a problem, we phoned your husband when we didn’t hear from you. Your friend, Sharni, brought Ben. Your husband arranged it. We got Ben in for 11.30 after all. All done and dusted.’

  ‘I’d have preferred it if you’d asked me,’ I say calmly but my hands are shaking with anger.

  ‘We understood from your husband that you were both happy for Ben to have his vaccination.’

  I bite my lip. If I argue I will sound like I put my pride before my child’s health.

  ‘Thanks for your help,’ I say.

  I’m shaking and have to fight to gain control before going back into the classroom. How dare Chris arrange for Sharni to take Ben to the surgery without asking me, especially after our argument yesterday.

  ‘I’ve finished miss,’ says Matthew, raising his hand.

  ‘Me too,’ yells another.

  ‘Okay great. Right let’s move on,’ I say in my best teacher voice.

  *

  ‘You don’t think you’re overreacting?’ says Helen as she puffs on her cigarette. I am tempted to ask her for a cigarette even though I don’t smoke. I’m so wound up and I know I can’t take any more diazepam. I’m seeing Dr Rawlins at five and I really want to be calm.

  ‘Surely she helped you out by taking him?’

  ‘Do you think I’m being paranoid?’

  Helen shrugs and checks the time. It’s our afternoon break and the time is dragging. I just want to be home and with Ben.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m thinking maybe she does admire you and just wants to please. I mean, what else could it be? It’s not like taking Ben for his jabs was doing a bad thing was it?’

  ‘I suppose not.’

  She stubs out her cigarette.

  ‘I wish the nursery had a space,’ I sigh.

  ‘Oh well, at least you can take him in the New Year. February isn’t that far off is it? She can’t do that much harm between now and then. Besides, we’ll be breaking up for the holidays soon.’

  I nod and search my bag for my diary. I’ll make a note to phone the nursery the first week of January. As I open it the card with Ben’s appointment printed on it flutters to the floor. I stare at it. The appointment was for next Monday at 11. I didn’t get it wrong. I would never make an appointment for a Tuesday. It’s one of the days I work.

  *

  I wait impatiently as the receptionist studies the screen.

  ‘Yes, here we are. There is a message on the system. It says Mum phoned to rearrange the appointment. It was originally for next Monday but you asked for it to be this week. We’re very sorry for having to rearrange the appointment. It was lucky that your friend was able to bring him,’ the pale-faced receptionist says.

  ‘I didn’t phone and change the original appointment,’ I say firmly.

  ‘It’s here on the system,’ she argues.

  ‘I didn’t phone the surgery to change the appointment,’ I repeat. ‘I certainly wouldn’t have made it for a Tuesday. It’s one of the days I work.’

  The receptionist frowns.

  ‘It says here that you spoke to one of our receptionists,’ she says stubbornly. ‘It states quite clearly, Mrs Ryan phoned.’

  ‘But I didn’t phone. I always bring Ben myself. I wouldn’t have made an appointment for a day that I couldn’t bring him.’

  ‘I can only tell you what’s on the screen.’

  ‘But …’

  I stop and grab the counter. Oh God. Did Sharni make the call? She could have seen the appointment on the calendar and pretended to be me. She must have phoned the surgery and changed the appointment.

  ‘Okay, thanks,’ I say to the receptionist, feeling numb.

  I find a chair and sit down. My legs are weak. I know if I tell Chris he won’t believe it. I can’t tell Dr Rawlins either. There’s no one left to turn to. I struggle to compose myself. I need Dr Rawlins to give me more diazepam. I sit with my hands folded in my lap and try to ignore the looks from the receptionist. People are coughing and sneezing all around me. I hope I don’t catch something and take it back to Ben. I really can’t afford to take time off and I certainly don’t want Sharni looking after Ben when he’s ill. I’m relieved when Dr Rawlins finally calls me in.

  He checks my notes on the computer before turning to me and asking, ‘How can I help you today Mrs Ryan?’

  ‘My anxiety has got worse. I’m very edgy and a bit weepy. I seem to be forgetting things,’ I say and immediately regret it. He’s bound to make the connection with the diazepam.

  ‘I’m not sleeping well,’ I add quickly.

  ‘Ah,’ he nods.

  ‘I’ve been taking the diazepam to help me sleep,’ I lie.

  ‘So, you’re taking more diazepam?’

  I blush.

  ‘But less zopiclone, if any.’

  ‘I see. Why are you more anxious do you think?’

  If I tell him about Sharni’s house he’ll think I’m mad. I’m beginning to think that even Helen thinks I am paranoid.

  ‘I’ve had a few upsets,’ I say, trying not to clench my hands.

  ‘Is Ben okay?’

  ‘He’s fine.’

  ‘Perhaps we should try you on some anti-depressants.’

  ‘No,’ I say more sharply than I mean to. ‘I’m not depressed.’

  ‘Just anxious?’

  I nod.

  ‘But you don’t know what about?’

  ‘I can’t find a nursery for Ben and my neighbour is caring for him and I don’t know her very well and that’s been worrying me.’

  I sound so ridiculous.

  ‘I see. You were supposed to be cutting down on the diazepam …’

  ‘I have, at least during the day.’

  Please let me have more. Please. He looks thoughtful. My heart is pounding so forcibly I feel sure he must be able to hear it.

  ‘I’ll give you some more and an anti-depressant to take at night. It’s been known to help people sleep but I urge you to reduce the diazepam. Try taking one and a half a day and after two weeks reduce to one a day. Don’t increase that dose at any time and keep a record of what you’re taking. I would also suggest some counselling …’

  ‘I don’t want counselling,’ I say sharply.

  ‘It can …’

  ‘I’ve had counselling. I don’t want it again.’

  It’s so easy to say things you don’t want to say in counselling. To remember things you don’t want to remember.

  ‘Think about it,’ he says curtly. ‘We can’t dismiss it. You can’t stay on diazepam. We have to get you off that. Long-term diazepam increases anxiety and that’s what I think is happening to you. I’m not saying stop altogether, but you must start reducing. Therapy is a great way to look at your anxieties.’

  I nod without committing myself. I wait patiently while he prints out the prescription, the sense of relief overwhelming me. I will calm down. Chris is right. I’m getting everything out of proportion. I must get off the diazepam, they’re making me paranoid. But I didn’t phone the surgery. That phone call never happened. Despite what the receptionist said it was not me that changed Ben’s appointment.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The car bumped up on to the driveway and Chris swung his legs out of the car. He was late. The meeting had gone on longer than he’d thought, but he’d managed to get away by two o’clock. What a fantastic outcome. He hoped his breath didn’t smell of alcohol. He’d only had the one glass of bubbly. He’d get another bottle on the way home and celebrate with Clare later.

  He’d barely reached the front door when Sharni opened it.

  ‘Hi, sorry I’m late,’ he said apologetically.

  ‘I didn’t notice the time,’ she smiled.

  ‘I have to be back at four.’

  ‘No worries, it won’t take long.’

  He saw her looking across the street. The old woman from over the road was watching from her window.

  ‘She clocks everything, doesn’t she,’ said Sharni.

  He
raised his eyebrows. God, it looked a bit odd though, him going into the neighbour’s house while her husband and his wife were at work. Shit. He couldn’t even tell Clare, not if these photos were to be a surprise. Hopefully the old girl wouldn’t say anything. He didn’t think Clare knew her anyway. Oh well, he thought, if she did he’d have to open up about the photos. Sharni would admit to taking them and that would be that. Clare couldn’t be jealous of Sharni. She was being so supportive by looking after Ben.

  He walked into the living room where Ben was crawling on the floor. Sharni scooped him up and tossed him expertly over her shoulder. Sometimes he had to admit that Sharni had a confidence with Ben that even Clare didn’t have. She certainly seemed more balanced than Clare at the moment.

  ‘I was going to make a coffee, do you want one before we start?’

  ‘Great, thanks.’

  The living room was scattered with photographs and outlines of interiors.

  ‘Ignore the muddle. I’m working on a fashion shoot for L’Oréal.’

  ‘Wow, that’s impressive,’ he said coming up behind her and taking Ben’s little hand in his.

  ‘Not really, it sounds more impressive than it is.’

  She handed him Ben and emptied the kettle into a cafeteria.

  ‘Thanks for earlier. I don’t know why Clare forgot.’

  ‘It happens to the best of us,’ she smiled at Chris.

  ‘Not with Ben. She’s normally on the ball.’

  ‘Is that right?’ she said and he detected a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

  ‘Has he been all right since the jabs?’

  ‘We’ve had lots of cuddles, haven’t we Ben?’

  Ben reached out his arms to her and Chris handed him over.

  ‘You’re certainly a hit.’

  ‘You hang on to him. I’ll get the camera.’

  Something in her tone made Chris uneasy. He remembered the things Clare had rambled on about. He shook his head in annoyance. Her paranoia was rubbing off on him. There was no doubt about it. He read somewhere that living with an unbalanced partner was not only toxic but left its mark. ‘It can damage an otherwise healthy level-headed partner.’ He needed to detach himself from her paranoia. Sharni was just being businesslike. Getting the job done and after all hadn’t he said he needed to be back by four?

  ‘Naked photos are best,’ she said as she assembled a white backdrop.

  He blinked in surprise but Sharni seemed unfazed.

  ‘Naked?’ he repeated.

  ‘Just your shirt off,’ she said casually, taking Ben from him and removing his top.

  He looked at Sharni’s window. She didn’t have nets and if that old dear was still looking. Sharni didn’t seem worried and he didn’t want to make a fuss.

  ‘Right,’ he said pulling off his shirt. ‘Clare will love these.’

  Sharni didn’t reply but busied herself attaching a lens to her camera.

  ‘I’ve found a great restaurant. It’s French, in the West End. I’ve booked a table for your anniversary. Tom and I would like to take you out. I thought eight would be a good time. I’ll surprise Clare with the photos,’ she says without looking up.

  Chris struggled not to look taken aback.

  ‘Ah right,’ he said. He had hoped to spend the anniversary alone with Clare but felt it would be rude to say no to Sharni. ‘That’s great I’ll tell her. We’ll need to get a sitter.’

  He couldn’t bring himself to say that he and Clare wanted to spend their anniversary alone. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful. It felt strange to be half undressed in Sharni’s living room and he hoped Sharni wouldn’t take much longer.

  ‘Okay, if you stand here,’ she said. ‘I’ll do a few of you first to get the light right. I don’t want to be fiddling around when I take Ben’s photos or he’ll get agitated.’

  ‘Oh right,’ he nodded. She told him how to pose and for the next five minutes she snapped like crazy.

  ‘Best to get everything planned before we put Ben in the picture,’ she smiled.

  Chris nodded but he felt uncomfortable posing like a model.

  ‘Okay,’ she said finally. ‘Let’s get Ben in.’

  Ten minutes later they were done.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ said Chris.

  ‘I hope Clare won’t mind the secrecy, but I’m sure she’ll be okay. We’ve all had secrets at some time in our life, right?’

  Her eyes seemed to bore right into his. He turned away and looked at his watch.

  ‘I better go. I’ve a meeting at four.’

  He kissed Ben on the forehead and moved to the door.

  ‘Thanks for taking those, and for taking Ben to the doctor.’

  ‘My pleasure,’ she smiled but it seemed to him that her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I shove the appointment card under his nose.

  ‘It’s here in black and white. I didn’t phone the surgery. Why would I want to change it to a Tuesday?’

  ‘Maybe they got the day wrong.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake Chris,’ I sigh.

  ‘Why would Sharni change Ben’s appointment, and besides, how could she have known when the original appointment was for?’

  ‘She had my key the first day she had Ben. She would have seen it on the fridge calendar.’

  ‘This is sounding so paranoid Clare,’ he sighs.

  ‘Who made the phone call?’ I say, raising my voice. ‘I didn’t, and I certainly wouldn’t make an appointment for a day when I’m working.’

  ‘You don’t seem to remember much of what you do these days.’

  I stare at him open-mouthed.

  ‘I can’t believe you said that.’

  ‘Clare …’

  ‘I don’t want her to have him any more,’ I say firmly.

  Chris looks at me with pleading eyes.

  ‘Please Clare, not again, okay?’

  I force myself to calm down. I’ve got to cut back on the diazepam. Dr Rawlins will insist on counselling if I don’t.

  ‘The nurseries are full. I checked today,’ I say, trying to sound calmer. ‘They haven’t got space until February so it looks like I don’t have any choice, but in February he goes back to nursery.’

  ‘Okay,’ he agrees, but I can tell that he is hoping that by February I will have changed my mind.

  ‘Have you been drinking?’ I ask. I can smell alcohol on his breath. Very slight, but it’s definitely there.

  ‘That’s what I’ve wanted to tell you but you were at me as soon as I walked in the door.’

  ‘Okay,’ I say.

  ‘They want me to take charge of the Hinski contract.’

  ‘That’s wonderful,’ I say.

  ‘I bought some Prosecco.’

  ‘I’m so pleased for you.’

  ‘It’ll mean some overtime,’ he smiles. ‘So what with your extra hours and this …’

  ‘The dinner,’ I say as I rush to the kitchen.

  ‘What did Dr Rawlins say?’ he asks.

  ‘He thinks I need to go on anti-depressants.’

  ‘Oh.’ He pops the cork. ‘What did he say about the diazepam?’

  ‘He gave me some more and said to continue with the reduction programme.’

  He raises his eyebrows.

  ‘Did you tell him you that you have been forgetting that you’d taken them?’

  ‘He talked about therapy and you know …’

  ‘Let’s celebrate,’ he says changing the subject.

  I clink my glass against his.

  ‘Congratulations Chris,’ I say.

  ‘It does mean I have to go to Amsterdam for a few days.’

  My hands tighten around the glass.

  ‘When?’

  I tell myself not to sound anxious. Don’t ruin the good news by getting worked up. I’m already struggling to fill my lungs with air.

  ‘In a few weeks, I’m not sure exactly when. I’ll only be gone a few days. I have to go. It’s down to me to work ou
t the details with the customer.’

  ‘I know,’ I say squeezing his arm.

  ‘We’ll have Christmas to look forward to.’

  The mention of Christmas reminds me that I’d asked Helen over for Christmas Day. I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t now.

  ‘I asked Helen if she wanted to come to us on Christmas Day.’

  ‘What? Why?’ he groans.

  ‘She’s going to be all on her own.’

  ‘Oh, Clare.’

  ‘I’d rather that then go next door,’ I say irritably.

  ‘Okay, let’s not ruin the evening. Can’t we just celebrate without disagreeing?’

  ‘Sorry,’ I say meekly.

  He wraps his arm around me.

  ‘After dinner and when Ben’s gone to sleep why don’t we watch a movie? Have a real chill out.’

  I nod. I can’t think of anything nicer.

  ‘We ended the last session talking about the car accident. I think we should revisit that,’ Leah said.

  She gave a sarcastic laugh. The word ‘we’ was ironic. If only there had been a ‘we’ at the time. At least then she’d have been believed. No one believed her, they all dismissed her. She struggled to breathe.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘When I think back I feel panicky, it’s the feeling of helplessness.’

  ‘Try to remember what actually happened.’

  She knows what actually happened, she didn’t have to try. She could hear the wind battering the car and the rain hammering on the windscreen. She could smell the dampness of the night and she could see the dazzling headlights that blinded her. She hadn’t got far to go. Her hands had gripped the steering wheel and even now she could feel the ache in her shoulders. She knew the bridge wasn’t far away, knew she had to be cautious going over it. She’d cursed again for leaving so late, but who could have known the rain would come down like that? The deer had come out of nowhere. She was squinting at the flashing headlights and, it was there, its eyes wide and frightened.

  ‘There were headlights,’ she said.

  ‘It’s dark in the country,’ said Leah.

  ‘He was beautiful and so scared.’

  ‘You didn’t hit him.’

  She’d turned the steering wheel so violently that she’d torn the ligaments in her wrist. Her foot had slammed on to the brake but the car skidded. She was going too fast. The world spun around her until she could do nothing but scream.