Déjà Vu

by Stephen Edger

  And then she heard it. The sweet and familiar music she’d heard when the car had struck the water. She still couldn’t place why it sounded so familiar, nor why she knew it. But as the harmony calmed her galloping heart, she felt herself gently swaying to the rhythm.

  And then she saw Rob. Floating directly in front of her, an apparition of some kind, and he was beckoning her. She couldn’t hear his voice, but the ghostly figure was definitely Rob and he was waving for her to reach out to him.

  ‘I can’t,’ Megan cried out. ‘You’re too far away.’

  But still he beckoned. He was smiling from ear-to-ear the same way he had the morning after they’d first slept together. That look of pure love and desire. He seemed to be mouthing for her to take a leap of faith. She saw his lips say, ‘I will catch you.’

  He had come for her. Like she had known he would.

  All she needed to do was jump and he would catch her. Her knees bent and then she leapt with all her might, stretching both hands as far as they would reach, but the apparition vanished and suddenly she was failing.

  Falling deeper into the black abyss, the music from the car’s stereo growing louder as she saw the ground coming up to meet her. And then...

  Megan shot up and promptly fell off the edge of the sofa, as she felt around trying to get her bearings. The tan-coloured carpet; the cushion she’d been resting her feet on. She was at home.

  Forcing herself to sit up took all her strength, but she pushed her back into the base of the sofa, and tried to steady her breathing. Her t-shirt was soaked through, and the only sound was the thud-thud-thud of her galloping heart.

  Suddenly her memory fired and she remembered feeling tired after all the travel she’d undertaken over the course of the day. And having emptied her heart to Wanda, she’d felt sleepy and decided to rest her eyes while she waited for the evening news to come on the television.

  She had to have fallen asleep, but what an intense nightmare to suffer.

  She could still picture the view from the top of that ledge. And seeing Rob’s face calling to her. She’d known jumping would end badly, but in that moment she hadn’t cared. He’d been so close: she’d practically tasted him.

  She closed her eyes, trying to picture the apparition again, but the memory was already fading. She needed to make a note of the dream for Dr Patel. He might have managed to rationalise last night’s dream, but there was nothing in her day to trigger a vision of plunging to her death from an unfamiliar building. Shuffling across the carpet, she pulled at her handbag and removed the yellow exercise book, her heart rate increasing as she closed her eyes and tried to recall everything she’d seen.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Bringing the car to a sudden stop caused the tyres to skid, and the nose of the car only just avoided scraping the bumper of the vehicle in front. Jake glanced at the stopwatch. Three minutes until the end-of-day bell sounded. He hadn’t been certain he would make it in time, but the rising wave of relief began to lap over him. Pushing the door open, he jogged the remaining distance to the school gate.

  He’d sent half a dozen messages to Isabella’s phone, but reception around the school wasn’t great, as he checked the app it wasn’t registering that she’d seen anything he’d sent her all day. Skipping along through the playground, he pushed through the final gate and took his place in the line-up with the other parents, awaiting the throng of excited children to emerge from the various doors.

  Sixty seconds to go.

  He made the most of the opportunity to take a few breaths to compose himself, trying to ignore the suffocating heat. A cool beer would be so refreshing right now, but as he’d have Gabby, he would settle for an ice cream from the van he’d seen parked at the main gate. Gabby loved that soft scoop that they piped on to cones, and if she’d had a good day he’d probably let her have a stick of chocolate in it too.

  The bell rang, and casually glancing at the people stood either side of him, he realised he didn’t recognise either of them. Nor those stood in front of him or behind him.

  And that’s when he saw her. Standing on the other side of the playground, yawning against the boredom of waiting for Gabby; Isabella clearly hadn’t seen any of his messages.

  He was sure she hadn’t mentioned anything about needing to collect Gabby from a different area of the playground, but now that he thought about it, it had been a while since he’d collected her, but had she really moved up a grade since the last time?

  Making his way across the playground as calmly as he could, he moved in to the space next to Isabella.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she scowled, as her eyes fell on him.

  ‘I messaged you this morning to say I would collect Gabby from school this afternoon.’

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘Why aren’t you at work?’

  ‘I told you this morning: day off.’

  She turned away in frustration. ‘Well I wish you’d phoned; I could have gone to the spa today if I’d known I wasn’t needed.’

  She was wearing large sunglasses, the kind not only used to protect the lens, but to save the wearer the embarrassment of everyone seeing bloodshot eyes. Luckily for Isabella, the shades didn’t look out of place on such a sunny day. She was also wearing a figure-hugging white cotton dress, which had already drawn a few furtive glances from the other men in the crowd, and disapproval from the other mothers.

  ‘I did try and message you. I told you that I would take care of it.’

  In truth the first message he’d sent this morning had said he would collect Gabby. But after his meeting with Tosh he’d sent a second telling her he might not make it. Then a third when he’d reached New Milton telling her he was almost certain not to make it, but then a fourth as he’d left Gavin Venables at the cordon, to advise her he was on his way. A fifth had followed when he’d got stuck in tailbacks, before the final message twenty minutes ago to tell her he would definitely make it. Had she read the confusing string of messages, he could have understood her annoyance.

  She snorted. ‘Why do you persist in sending messages? Why not just pick up the phone and call? You know that sending messages messes up my nails. Next time, just call!’

  The heat was causing his own temper to boil, but he ground his teeth to save himself saying something he would undoubtedly later regret.

  ‘Well, I’m here now. I can take her home. You go off to your spa or whatever it is you want to do.’

  Her head snapped round and she clawed off her glasses so she could look him in the eye. ‘How dare you make this about me! You should have called.’

  One of the other mothers took a sideways step away from them, keen to avoid becoming embroiled in whatever spat was about to erupt.

  Jake ground further. ‘You’re right: I should have called. I’m sorry.’

  He didn’t mean a single word of it, but there was no point in causing a scene.

  ‘What about work? Are you going back?’

  ‘No. I told you: I’m done for today.’

  Isabella pushed the glasses back on. ‘Fine! I don’t know what time I’ll be home.’

  So she was going out. Again. He was about to retort something to that effect when he felt a small hand tugging at his own, and as he looked down and saw Gabby’s beaming smile, all the anger instantly dissipated. Dropping to his knees, he opened his arms and embraced her in a tight hug.

  ‘You came!’ she said, her tone excited but tinged with surprise.

  ‘Of course I did,’ he whispered, kissing the top of her head. ‘I promised I would.’

  Confusion fell on Gabby’s face. ‘Mum? You’re here too?’

  Isabella was staring at her phone and didn’t look up to respond. ‘Yes, but now I’m going. Your father will take you home.’

  Isabella pocketed the phone and was about to move off when the petite figure of Miss Croft waved them down.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, her accent from southern Ireland, Jake noted. ‘Mr and Mrs Knight? I wondered if I might have
a quiet word with you before you rush away.’

  Although the dark glasses disguised it from view, Jake was certain Isabella was rolling her eyes at the interruption. ‘What is this about?’ she asked with more than a hint of frustration in her tone.

  ‘I wanted to speak to you both about this young lady here,’ Miss Croft replied amicably, resting her hands on Gabby’s shoulders. ‘It won’t take long, I promise,’ she added hopefully.

  Jake smiled at her. ‘That’s fine with me.’

  ‘Fine!’ Isabella scowled and the three of them followed behind Miss Croft, cutting through those few parents who’d arrived late for collection time.

  Once inside the classroom, Miss Croft suggested Gabby go to the school library and choose a book to read. ‘Don’t worry,’ she assured Isabella and Jake, ‘the library is enclosed so she won’t be able to wander off anywhere. Won’t you both take a seat?’

  Miss Croft waved at one of the student tables, which couldn’t have been more than two feet off the ground, and she pulled out one of the children’s chairs and promptly sat on it. Jake and Isabella did their best to copy the action, but the seat was so low that it was difficult to know where to put your feet. In the end, Jake stretched his long legs under the table, while Isabella seemed to almost hover above the seat.

  ‘I appreciate you coming in at such short notice,’ Miss Croft continued. ‘I was going to send a letter home and ask you to make an appointment, but then when I saw the two of you together, I thought I should take a chance -’

  ‘What’s she done?’ Isabella asked, the glasses still on, despite the fact they were now in doors in the shade.

  Miss Croft, crossed her hands over her lap as she prepared for confrontation. ‘Gabby is not in any trouble. She is a model student. Always helping out the other pupils, listens really well, and always strives to complete the most difficult challenges I set them to do.’

  Jake could feel his heart bursting with pride. He’d never been particularly academic at school, so to hear how well Gabby was doing was always music to his ears. She didn’t get any of that from him, but it still made him want to gush.

  ‘But,’ Miss Croft said, dropping the bombshell, ‘her behaviour just recently has been a bit out of character.’

  ‘In what way?’ Jake asked, before he could stop himself, the pride quickly replaced by anxiety.

  Miss Croft looked like she was sucking a wasp as she searched for the right words. ‘It’s not that she’s being naughty, but some of her creative writing is...it’s causing a bit of concern.’

  She paused and reached for a book from a nearby box, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking for. She flattened the book on the table and twisted it so Jake and Isabella could see.

  ‘Last week I asked the children to draw what they thought their parents got up to at night once they were in bed. Most of the children drew their parents eating dinner at a table, or sat in front of the television. One child even drew his parents playing tennis of all things. But this is what Gabby drew.’

  Jake stared at the picture. The rectangle space was split into four by pencil lines, the two lower pictures resembling a kitchen and living room, but in the two upstairs rooms, the stick figure with long yellow hair was asleep in one bed while the stick figure with short black hair was asleep in bed in the other room.

  ‘Now it isn’t any of my business to know what your arrangements are like at home, but -’

  ‘It’s just a stupid drawing,’ Isabella challenged. ‘I don’t see why this warranted you calling us in like this.’

  ‘It isn’t just the picture,’ Miss Croft replied, the worry in her eyes growing. ‘I overheard Gabby talking to one of the boys in the class, and Gabby was telling him that her parents argue all the time when they think she is asleep. And she added that you used all sorts of cuss words.’ Miss Croft closed the exercise book, willing herself to ask the next question. ‘Are there problems between the two of you?’

  Isabella leapt to her feet. ‘That’s none of your business!’

  ‘It is when home issues begin to affect Gabby in school.’

  ‘I’ve had enough of this!’ Isabella scowled. ‘What goes on in the marital home has absolutely nothing to do with you. Jake, you take Gabby home. I’m out of here!’ And with that, Isabella pushed the classroom door open and disappeared out into the bright light of the playground.

  Jake could feel his cheeks burning, but hoped Miss Croft hadn’t noticed. ‘I’m sorry about my wife. And in answer to your question, things at home...haven’t been good for a while. Isabella and I...are planning to divorce very soon, but we haven’t shared that information with Gabby yet.’

  ‘Forgive my bluntness, Mr Knight, but I think she already knows, or at least senses there are issues.’ She paused and fixed him with an empathetic look. ‘As I said at the start, the issues between you and your wife are really none of my business, but what I wanted to ask of you both is you be mindful of Gabby’s feelings. If you must argue, maybe try and do it outside where she won’t hear. Or make a conscious effort to be civil to one another when you are at home. And if your decision is final about the divorce, the sooner you inform Gabby the sooner she can begin to process the monumental emotional upheaval.’

  Jake’s eyes were still on the closed exercise book, unable to believe that they could have allowed their petty arguments and one-upmanship to be observed by Gabby.

  ‘Mr Knight?’ Miss Croft asked, resting her warm hand on his. ‘Are you okay?’

  Jake pulled his hands away and quickly stood. ‘I’m fine. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. I will make sure that we are more aware of Gabby as we move forward.’ He was already looking for the door out to the corridor so he could collect Gabby from the library. ‘I apologise for Isabella’s reaction again.’

  And as he bailed out into the corridor, closing the door behind him, it was all he could do to keep the tears from building in his eyes.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The taxi gently pulled to a stop, and the driver told Megan to wait while he removed the collapsed wheelchair from the boot. Megan glanced at the ever-ticking price on the metre, thinking it was typical that the driver had left it running, even though they’d technically arrived at the destination. Looking out of her window she could see the flurry of individuals streaming out of the station’s automatic doors, ready to continue their journeys home. Some wore suits and ties, others wheeled cases, all wore the same single-minded determination to move forward.

  It had been ages since Megan had come to the train station. She could still remember the weekend she and Rob had spent in Weymouth, the year before last. They’d caught the train south that day, enjoying a cheeky cider as they’d whispered and anticipated their break away. What she would give to be catching that train all over again, enjoying a life that was far from the current one.

  The taxi driver tapped on the window to indicate he had finished rebuilding the wheelchair, and then he opened the door, moving the chair closer so she could lift herself over. She obliged and handed him a ten pound note for the journey, but waited for him to count her change, before closing the passenger door and allowing him to move on to his next fare. She would have given him a tip had he not left the metre running.

  He had dropped her across the road from the station, on the same side as the tall building she’d seen in her dream. But as she strained her neck to look upwards, she couldn’t see anything over the four storey building nearest to her. Starbucks and Costa franchises had been set up next to each other on the ground floor, and Megan was tempted to call in and buy herself a sandwich, but the taxi fare had all but wiped out the money she had in her purse.

  The area was in the process of being redeveloped. Whilst the road and pavement nearest her had been repaved with pastel-coloured bricks and slabs, red warning triangles and traffic cones lined the road further away, back towards Southampton city centre. Three tall office blocks made up the Nelson Gate complex, with Norwich House the ta
llest of the three buildings. As Megan wheeled herself towards the shadow of the tower, she couldn’t escape how out-of-place the three buildings looked. The brickwork was grey and worn, reminding her of the Trotter tower in Only Fools and Horses. Old-fashioned and unloved is how she would describe the properties. Large ‘To Let’ boarding signs covered each of the buildings, suggesting she wasn’t the only person to share that view.

  And then the tower came into view, and she caught her breath. Two sets of stairs led up to the entrance of the building, so there was no obvious way for her to get inside, but the sheer height was quite the spectacle. Not as tall as the Twin Towers, but high enough to scratch the clouds now starting to gather in the sky as the temperature finally cooled a fraction. She couldn’t even see the ledge she had hopped onto in the dream.

  Her neck was starting to ache, as she continued to stare straight up and try to count the rows of evenly-distributed windows. Crossing the road, she parked up outside the station car park and looked back, beginning the count once again.

  In the dream the lift had ejected her on the fifteenth floor, but counting the rows left her frustrated to see there were only fourteen floors. But did that mean the dream was wrong and she’d come to the wrong location? It had been a silly idea to come here. Somewhere in the back of her mind she’d hoped she’d be able to gain entry to the building and head up to the roof. Not to jump as had happened in the dream, but to see if Rob had left her some kind of message or clue. It was silly, but Dr Patel had told her that dreams could be a way of the brain processing something it didn’t understand. That’s why he’d reckoned she’d relived the fire over and over, but now she’d had two quite different dreams. Okay, she hadn’t seen Rob in the first one, but his apparition had definitely appeared today. Did that mean something?

  Pulling the Dream Journal from her bag, she re-read the few lines of note she’d managed to jot before calling the taxi.