by Sue Brown
He did get it, although he didn’t like the sound of it at all. “I’m not a John. And I’m not a body.”
Although he very nearly had been. If it hadn’t been for Gabriel, he’d have washed up somewhere for a passing stranger to find, and with no means of identifying him.
“But you don’t remember your name?”
Gabriel’s question broke into his morbid thoughts.
“No, but I’m not John.” He was sure of that. It was about the only thing he was sure of.
“What else can I call you? I’ve got to call you something.” Gabriel got to his feet. “Here, sign this.”
He handed him a pen and paper. He stared at him blankly. “What?”
“Sign it. Don’t think about it. Just sign it.”
Maybe it was motor memory, but he scribbled something on the paper and handed it back. Gabriel stared at it for a moment. “Um… I’m not sure this helps.” He gave him the paper. It was short and illegible, except for maybe an S at the start and maybe an O later on.
“I’ve no idea what it says.”
“It was worth a try. I saw it on a cop show years ago. They couldn’t work it out either, but it proves your memory is still there.”
He had no idea how it was supposed to help, but Gabriel seemed excited about it and that was preferable to his anger. “Well, it’s not John, anyway. What names begin with S?”
“Steve? Steven? Stan?” Gabriel suggested.
“I’m not a Stan,” he said, somewhat indignantly.
Gabriel’s lips twitched. “No, you’re not a Stan.”
Simon and Steven didn’t sound right either, but then, nothing was right about the whole situation. He squinted harder at the paper. “I think the next letter is a T.”
“Let’s call you Steve until we find out what your name is.”
“What?” He wrinkled his nose. He was so not a Steve.
“I’ve got to call you something, and if you won’t accept John, then why not Steve?”
He pressed his lips together. Not Steve. “Call me Sam.”
Gabriel squinted at the signature. “It doesn’t look much like Sam.”
Sam shrugged but wished he hadn’t, because it set off his headache. “I don’t know. That’s the only name in my head that feels right. Not that anything feels right at the moment.”
Gabriel held out his hand. “Hello, Sam. I’m Gabriel.”
He shook it. “Thanks for saving me, Gabriel.”
“You’re welcome.”
They were still holding hands when the lights flickered and died. They weren’t in total darkness because the flames from the fire provided dancing shadows around the room. It could have been creepy, but somehow it was just warm and comforting.
Gabriel sighed and got to his feet. “I’ve got oil lamps in the closet.”
“Does this happen a lot?” Sam asked. He shivered a little, as though the disappearance of the light had reduced the temperature in the room.
“Losing power? Yeah, the joys of living by the coast.” Gabriel left the room, and Sam stared at the flickering flames. He returned a few minutes later with two lamps already lit.
“How do you feel?” Gabriel asked as he set the lamps on the small tables at either end of the sofa.
“My head hurts,” he admitted.
“I’ll find the paracetamol. Can you take it?”
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to take the risk. My head is pounding.”
Gabriel handed him two pills and water, and he swallowed them and grimaced at the taste.
“Sit back and close your eyes for a while,” Gabriel suggested.
There wasn’t anything else to do, so he took the advice and snuggled under the afghan. Sam fell asleep to the sound of the crackling flames muting the violence of the wind and rain outside.
VOICES DISTURBED his sleep. He recognised Gabriel’s but not the other one, and he sat up, not wanting to be caught in a vulnerable position. Light streamed in through the window, but raindrops speckled the glass, and he could still hear the wind whistling around the cottage. He shivered as the night’s events swept over him.
“Yeah, the power’s still out all around the village. All the substations are out. Goodness knows when we’ll get it back on. How’s John?”
Sam frowned as the unknown voice called him John.
Then Gabriel spoke. “Sam.”
“What?”
“His name is Sam, or something like that. I got him to sign a piece of paper.”
“And it said Sam?”
“We couldn’t read it, but Sam felt right.”
Sam heard the doubt in Gabriel’s tone.
“That’s great!” At least the unknown voice sounded excited. “Now the police will have something to work on.”
“He could’ve scribbled anything, and we wouldn’t know if it’s the truth,” Gabriel pointed out.
Sam pressed his lips together as anger built inside him. Gabriel was virtually accusing him of lying.
“You think he’s lying? Faking the amnesia?”
“We know nothing about him other than that I saved him from drowning,” Gabriel said. “And I’m sure he’s very grateful, but he could be faking the whole amnesia thing. We need to get him checked out. He could be a serial killer.”
Oh, too much. “I’m not faking it. I’m not a serial killer,” he called out, “And I’m not deaf.”
There was a startled silence, and then Gabriel and another man, about Gabriel’s age but shorter and with blond hair, entered the room. Both of them had the grace to look embarrassed. He glared at Gabriel, who flushed a deeper red.
“I’m sorry. I thought you were asleep,” he managed, his voice gruff. “I’m sure you’re not a serial killer.”
“There’s always a first time,” he said tartly.
The stranger burst out laughing. “Oh Sam, I like you. You’re going to be good for him.”
Sam had no intention of being good for anyone. He just wanted to get out of here.
“Sam, this is Toby, my brother-in-law. He’s also a doctor, and he just wants to check on you,” Gabriel said. “Toby, this is Sam.”
“It’s good to see you awake,” Toby said.
Sam glared at him. “I’m not faking the amnesia, and I’m not a serial killer. At least I don’t think I am.”
“How do you know?” Toby pointed out as he sat in the chair opposite him, although the grin on his face told him he wasn’t being serious.
Of course, he didn’t know, but wouldn’t he feel it, inside him? “I’ve no desire to kill you. You,”—he stabbed a finger at Gabriel—“I’ll reserve judgement.”
Toby burst out laughing. “He’s got you there. He’s only just met you, and he already understands you.”
Gabriel gave a wry smile. “Okay, maybe I asked for that.”
“Maybe? You’re lucky he didn’t slap you around the face.” Toby winked at Sam, and he smiled, although only at him. Gabriel was still in his bad books.
“I’m not a violent person,” he said.
“As far you know,” Toby pointed out. “Joke, it’s a joke,” he said as Sam turned on him.
“Shut up, Toby,” Gabriel said. “You’re the one who insisted I keep him here instead of taking him to your clinic.”
Sam stared dubiously at Toby. “You did?”
“It wasn’t like I had a choice. The roads are closed, and I needed the clinic free for emergencies. I knew you’d be well looked after by Gabriel.” Toby rubbed his eyes, and Sam could see how tired he looked. “My brother-in-law may have the manners of a pig, but he’s a good guy. He’s always been a dick, but he gets better the longer you know him.”
Sam furrowed his brow. “You’re his brother-in-law?”
“His… um….”
“I told him about Jenny,” Gabriel muttered.
Toby shot him a surprised look and then looked at Sam. “Jenny was my twin.”
Sam could see the sadness and grief in his expression. Gabriel wasn’t the o
nly one in mourning. Sam didn’t remember if he had any family, but he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if a sibling, let alone a twin, died.
“We’ll need to contact the police later this morning,” Gabriel said. “Maybe someone’s filed a missing persons report.”
“Someone must know who I am.” If he went out in the boat, wouldn’t someone be worried when he didn’t return?
“Of course they must. I’ll make coffee while Toby takes a look at you.” Gabriel must have caught Sam’s dubious expression at being left alone with another stranger, because he smiled reassuringly and said, “Don’t worry. Toby’s a good doctor.”
“And I’m much nicer than he is,” Toby assured him.
Gabriel huffed and left the room, although Sam got the feeling it was mostly for show. He turned to see Toby eyeing him with frank curiosity.
“I’m fine,” he said.
“Apart from the fact you can’t remember who you are and you’ve got a killer headache?” Toby asked shrewdly.
Sam slumped back against the pillows. He thought he’d been doing a good job of hiding how much his head was pounding. “It hurts a little, but I’m not sure when I took the last pills.”
“I’ll ask Gabriel. Let me take a look at your eyes and take your blood pressure.”
At his nod, Toby rested practised fingers on his pulse. Sam blinked when Toby shone a light into both his eyes.
“You’re fine,” he assured him, “although I’d like you to get a head X-ray, which I can’t do at the clinic.”
He disappeared for a moment, and Sam heard him talking to Gabriel, although their voices were low and this time he couldn’t hear them. A minute later, Toby returned with a glass of water.
“You can take two more paracetamol.”
Sam swallowed the tablets and leaned back, the throb of his head making him nauseated. “When will I get my memory back?”
Toby shrugged. “Who knows? In the cases I’ve come across, memories have returned in dribs and drabs.”
“Gabriel says I was on a boat.”
“An expensive one,” Gabriel added as he came into the room with a tray. “Someone must be missing the boat.”
“They might not realize it’s gone in this weather,” Toby pointed out.
Gabriel handed Sam a mug of coffee, already filled with milk and sugar. He didn’t really want another coffee, but he didn’t want to offend him by refusing.
Toby accepted his mug and took a sip with a sigh of pleasure. “God, I need this. It’s been a long night.”
The windows rattled as the storm raged on, and Sam shivered as he thought about what a lucky escape he’d had. A touch on his knee disturbed his thoughts, and he looked up to see Gabriel’s concerned expression.
“Don’t think about it. You’re safe now, and we’ll get you back home as soon as we can.”
“I could’ve died.” Sam could’ve kicked himself when he saw the pain on Gabriel’s face and echoed in Toby’s. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Toby said. “You’ve been through a rough night, and we’re just thankful Gabriel found you.”
He focused on Gabriel. “How did you see me?”
“I was on the clifftop. I was about to head back to the cottage when I saw your boat.”
“You were standing on the clifftop in the storm?”
He gave a grim smile. “Yes.”
Sam was about to ask another question when he caught Toby’s warning look and decided to concentrate on his coffee. Then Toby yawned loudly, got to his feet, and stretched and rolled his shoulders.
“I’m off to see old Bob. Then I’m going to catch a few hours sleep before Damien pins me down to the bed.”
Sam choked on his coffee, and Gabriel sighed.
“I’m sorry for my brother-in-law, Sam. He doesn’t have a filter between his brain and his mouth.”
Toby didn’t look remotely cowed as he winked at Sam. “You’ll get used to me soon. I’ll bring Damien over later to meet you.”
“Damien is your partner?” he hazarded.
“Husband. He’s a bit of a dick, but I’ll put a leash on him, and he’ll behave.”
Gabriel herded Toby out of the room. “Go away before you scare him off. Damien’s not that bad.”
“That’s not what you usually say,” Toby said.
“Just go.”
Sam heard a rush of noise from the wind and rain. Then the door slammed, and there was peace again. Gabriel came back into the room and gave him a resigned look.
“I’m sorry, Toby’s….”
“Unique?” Sam suggested.
“I was going to say something else, but unique will do.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “How’s your head?”
He rubbed his temples. The pain had muted from thumping rock to slow, aching jazz, but he was exhausted. “It’s not too bad.”
Gabriel shot him a knowing look. “Do you want another nap? You can use Michael’s… the guest room.”
Sam was about to say he was fine, but as though Gabriel had planted a suggestion in his mind, he yawned and flapped a hand over his mouth.
“Come on.” Gabriel led him to a small bedroom at the back of the cottage, and his hesitation when he’d made the offer was explained the second Sam stepped into the bedroom. It had obviously been his son’s bedroom, and it was equally obvious Gabriel hadn’t touched the room since the day his son died, as toys and books tumbled over each other on the shelves. “The bedding is clean. I hope you don’t mind dinosaurs. I know the bed is small, but I can sleep in it.” Sam could picture the nights Gabriel had spent mourning his son in this room. “But if you’d prefer to sleep elsewhere….”
“It’s fine,” he assured him. “If it’s all right with you.”
Gabriel gave him that odd quirky smile again, and Sam ached at the pain in his expression. “It’s okay. The bathroom is across the hall. Call me if you need anything.”
Sam nodded and watched him walk out. He looked around the little boy’s room and sighed. For a moment, he thought about asking to sleep on the sofa, away from ghosts, but exhaustion overtook him. He slipped under the duvet and closed his eyes. Despite his headache, darkness quickly crept into the corners of his mind, and he fell asleep, unaware of the storm battering its last breath against the cottage.
Chapter 3—Gabriel
GABRIEL WOKE with a start, unsure why. He blinked and looked around, disorientated to find he’d been sleeping on the sofa. A cry pierced the silence and chased away the last vestiges of sleep as he shot to his feet, blood pounding in his ears.
Jenny!
There was another cry, and he frowned. It didn’t sound like his Jenny.
“No! Why? No! Don’t kill me!”
Sam!
He ran to the bedroom and flung back the door. The room was empty apart from the man in the bed, as it had been every time he’d checked on him. But this time he wasn’t sleeping peacefully. Sam cried out again, begging someone not to kill him.
Gabriel recoiled, taken aback by the last sentence. Kill him? Who the hell was trying to kill him? Sam cried out again and smacked his hand against the wall. Gabriel moved swiftly to stop him hurting himself.
“Sam, stop! Wake up!”
“Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. Why can’t I move?” He swung his arm and Gabriel caught it just before Sam smacked him in the face.
He captured both Sam’s hands in his and they struggled. “Sam, you’re safe. I promise, you’re safe. Calm down.” Sam opened his eyes and stared unseeing. Gabriel held on to him, speaking as calmly as he could, hoping his words would penetrate the haze he was in. “Sam, wake up. It’s all right. You’re safe now.”
“Safe?” He sounded doubtful.
“Yes, you’re safe, I promise.” Gabriel traced soothing circles against his inner wrist.
“Don’t kill me,” he begged.
“I don’t want to kill you. Just wake up now.” Gabriel didn’t want to let go of his hands, just in case.
/> Sam blinked rapidly and then looked at him and furrowed his brow as he focused properly for the first time. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel huffed out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Hey, you’re awake now.”
“Uh… is everything all right?”
“You were having a nightmare,” Gabriel said.
He looked confused. “I was?”
“Yeah.”
Gabriel searched for a way to ask what he’d been dreaming about, but before he could ask a question, Sam said, “Why’re you holding my hands?”
“You nearly smacked me around the face.” Tentatively he let go, as though he expected Sam to hit him again.
“I did?” He stared at his hands as though they weren’t connected to him. Then he pushed back his tangled mess of bright copper hair. “I’m sorry for disturbing you.”
He looked distressed, so Gabriel sought to reassure him. “It’s okay. Can you remember anything about your dream?”
“No… no.”
Gabriel wasn’t sure he believed him. “You were begging for someone not to kill you.”
Sam looked bewildered. “I don’t remember.”
Gabriel sat back, not wanting to push him when he’d obviously been so distressed. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”
As though his words were a trigger, Sam yawned and settled back down against the pillows. He closed his eyes, and Gabriel wondered if he wanted him to go away. Still concerned, he studied Sam for a moment. His red hair was in stark contrast to his pale skin, and his lashes swept over his cheeks.
Sam didn’t stir again, and Gabriel left him to sleep and headed for his own bedroom. He needed a couple more hours sleep before he could face the day.
GABRIEL WAS disturbed a second time—not by voices but by loud knocking. He grumbled as he pushed back the duvet and headed to the front door. When he was two steps away, there was another round of thudding against it.
“Okay, okay, thumper. Quit doing that. I’m here.” Gabriel flung open the door and had to duck quickly as Toby nearly thumped him on the nose. “Dammit, Tobes.”
“Don’t call me that,” Toby snapped. “Thumper? Really? You took your own sweet time.”
“I was asleep. You know that thing where you close your eyes and don’t get up for several hours.” Gabriel hastily stepped back as Toby brushed past him.
