At least Sam had known his parents properly. She’d been heartbroken when her grandad had died, and Dan liked to think that, in spite of her illness, his mum had always recognised Sam. Margaret loved children but had thought she couldn’t have any, until Dan came along in her mid-thirties. His father was nine years older.
‘Our little miracle,’ they used to call him. He’d hated it as a child, but now it made him misty-eyed.
‘Bill, there you are,’ she’d said as he’d walked into her room on his latest visit.
She often mistook him for her late husband.
‘It’s Dan, Mum,’ he replied. ‘Your son.’
She nodded. ‘Have you mowed the lawn?’
‘No, Mum. It’s winter. The grass doesn’t grow at this time of year.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, it’s Christmas Eve. You’ve seen all the decorations, haven’t you?’
‘Of course, dear.’
Dan hated these conversations. It was awful seeing her so confused; so helpless. Where had his mother gone? She was still in there somewhere, wasn’t she?
‘Is Danny coming to visit?’ she asked. ‘I never see him any more.’
‘It is me. It’s Dan. I’m here now, Mum. Listen, they told me you’ve not been eating much. It’s important that you do to keep your strength up. You’ll get turkey and all the trimmings tomorrow. You like that, don’t you?’
She smiled at him, but her eyes were vacant.
‘Where’s Samantha?’ she asked him later in the visit.
‘Sam couldn’t make it today,’ Dan replied, ‘but she sends her love.’
‘She’ll do all right, that one.’
Dan winced at the tragic irony of her words but did his best not to let it show. He had tried telling her about Sam’s death on a couple of occasions, longing for the kind of comfort a mother can offer her son, but it never sank in. Eventually he decided it was kinder that she didn’t know the truth.
He’d stayed for an hour or so at the home, which as usual was roasting hot and smelled of bleach. Then he’d wished his mum a happy Christmas, receiving a confused stare in return, and left feeling miserable and guilty.
He’d not visited again over the festive period, which only added to the sense of guilt. Mind you, it wasn’t like she’d notice.
‘How has your New Year’s Eve been so far?’ he asked Ruby as he removed his jacket and loosened his tie.
‘Good.’
‘You went to Amelia’s for lunch, didn’t you?’
She nodded.
‘Was it fun?’
‘Yep.’
‘What did you get up to?’
‘Playing and stuff.’
‘Where’s Mummy?’
‘She’s cross with me.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Come on. You must have some idea. Have you had an argument? Did she ask you to do something that you didn’t do?’
Ruby shook her head.
‘So what happened?’
She looked at the floor.
‘Come on, love. What was it? It can’t be that bad.’
She answered without looking up. ‘Mummy’s hidden all the photos of Sam.’
‘What?’ Dan looked around and his heart sank as he saw that it was true. They’d all gone. As far as he could see, there wasn’t a single photo of Sam left on display. ‘Why has she done that? Where are they?’
Ruby shrugged. ‘I dunno. I told her it was mean. I said it meant she didn’t love Sam. That’s when she got mad.’
Dan’s mind was racing, trying to work out what on earth had happened. Surely she hadn’t destroyed them. Just the idea of this made his blood boil, but he fought to suppress his anger; to keep his cool. There was no way she’d do that. No way. ‘Where is she now?’
‘In Sam’s bedroom. I tried to go and see her there, to say sorry, but she told me I had to stay out.’
‘Right. I’ll go and have a word with her.’
‘Can you tell her I’m sorry? I didn’t mean it.’
‘Of course. Don’t worry, love. It’ll be fine. Would you like a drink?’
‘Yes, please.’
After pouring Ruby some cordial, Dan took a deep breath and climbed the stairs. The door of Sam’s bedroom was shut. He gave a gentle knock and pushed it open.
‘Maria. What’s going on?’
He spoke in a near whisper, not wanting to startle his wife nor make things worse. He may as well not have spoken at all, for she showed no sign of having heard him. She was sitting on the carpet, facing away from him; staring at the large wardrobe full of Sam’s clothes. At her side, to Dan’s considerable relief, was a cardboard box full of the missing framed photographs.
‘Maria?’ he said, kneeling at her side.
Still she gave no indication that she’d heard him. Her body was rigid. Her face, visible to him now for the first time, was devoid of expression, like she was in a trance.
‘Are you okay, love?’
Nothing.
He held his right hand out in front of her face, ready to click his fingers, to snap her out of it. ‘Ruby said you were cross with her. She told me about the photos. I don’t know what—’
‘Why can no one ever leave me the hell alone?’ she said in a violent crescendo from growl to scream, meeting Dan’s gaze with wild eyes. ‘Of course I’m not bloody all right. My daughter’s dead.’
Dan’s heart was racing, but he held his ground, fighting to keep his voice calm and steady. ‘She was my daughter too. And Ruby’s sister. We’re all hurting, Maria.’
‘Get stuffed! You’re never here. What do you know?’
‘I can see you’re upset, Maria, but this won’t help. Whatever’s happened, we can work through it.’
‘Sometimes I want to burn this room to the ground,’ she said. ‘Did you know that? I imagine myself pouring petrol all over the place; dropping a match and watching it go up in flames.’
Dan was shocked by his wife’s words, but he’d seen her angry like this several times since Sam’s death. He knew she could lose her temper, spout fury and vitriol, only to be calm again an hour later. As for the best way to deal with her now, he had no clue. He wished he’d never come into the bedroom in the first place. And yet here he was, staring into the eye of the storm. He wondered about backing away and leaving her to it, but she didn’t give him a chance.
‘I have to get out of here,’ she said, snapping to her feet and racing to the door. ‘I hate this bloody place.’
‘What are you talking about, Maria?’ Dan called after her. ‘Where are you going? It’s New Year’s Eve.’
‘Don’t you dare touch that box of photos!’ she shouted back. ‘Just leave it alone.’
He followed her downstairs, nearly slipping in his haste. Maria already had a coat on and was scrabbling around the kitchen, looking for something. Silently signalling to Ruby that everything was all right, he asked Maria again what she was doing.
‘Where the hell are they?’ she yelled in reply.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Maria. Will you please calm down?’
‘My keys. Where have you put them?’
‘What? I haven’t even seen them.’
She charged into the hall, muttering something unpleasant under her breath, and the next thing Dan knew, she’d gone out of the front door. Just as he was thinking to himself that it was good she hadn’t found her keys, he heard the sound of a car starting. Out of the window he saw her reversing his Focus off the drive. She was away down the road by the time he got outside to try to stop her.
‘Oh, come on!’ he shouted. ‘Really?’ Kicking out with one socked foot, he stubbed his toe on a terracotta plant plot and yelped in pain.
‘What’s wrong, Daddy?’ Ruby’s anxious face asked from inside the open front door.
‘I banged my toe.’
‘Where’s Mummy gone?’
‘She had to pop to the supermarket. She won’t be long.’<
br />
Hoping for his words to come true, Dan hobbled to his daughter, placed an arm around her and led her back inside. ‘Come on, love. Let’s sort you out some tea. What do you fancy?’
‘Pizza?’
‘That sounds like a good idea. I think we might have some in the freezer, but if not, we could always order a takeaway.’
‘What about Mummy?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Can’t she get some from the supermarket?’
‘Oh right. I see what you mean. No, let’s get takeaway. It tastes better, doesn’t it? I’ll order enough for all three of us and then Mummy can have some too when she gets back.’
‘She’s still cross with me, isn’t she? Does this mean I’m never allowed in Sam’s room again?’
‘Oh, Ruby. Of course not. You can go in your sister’s room any time you like. It’s as much your space as it is any of ours; if it helps you feel closer to her, then all the better. None of this is your fault. Mummy’s just feeling extra sad today about Sam, that’s all. I’m sure she had a good reason for moving the photos and she’ll explain it to us later. In the meantime, they’re all safe and sound. She’s put them in a box. We’ll just leave them there for now, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Dan could see tears forming in the corners of his daughter’s eyes and he pulled her into a hug to comfort her.
‘I didn’t mean what I said to Mummy. I know she loved Sam.’
‘Please don’t worry about it, darling. She didn’t mean what she said to you either. I promise.’
Dan sighed to himself. He couldn’t bear it when Maria got like she was today, especially when it impacted on Ruby. He could understand his wife having bad days. He had plenty of those too, albeit in a more subtle way. He also understood that grief affected everyone differently. But she was like another person altogether on these occasions: manic, ferocious, irrational. It was horrifying to behold – and so different from how she once was. Maria used to criticise people who spoke out in anger, unable to control their temper. To do so now would be hypocritical.
Part of him was glad she’d gone. He’d rather she didn’t return until she’d had a chance to calm down, but he knew she shouldn’t be driving anywhere in that state. She was literally a road accident waiting to happen.
He wouldn’t rest until she got back.
CHAPTER 29
‘Hello?’
No answer. Sitting in the Land Rover, I pull the mobile phone away from my ear and confirm that the call has connected.
‘Is anybody there? Sam?’
I hear what sounds like a gasp on the other end of the line.
‘Hello? If you can hear me, please say something.’
Still nothing. I’m not sure what to do.
It occurs to me that it could be Miles. Maybe he’s watching me from inside the house. Or even closer. The thought panics me and I find myself scouring the rear-view mirror. I look all around, searching for some sign of him. But what about the name displayed on the screen: Sam. Did I imagine it? Was it some kind of mental projection from the flashback? I look again at the screen and it’s still there. I’m on an active call with Sam.
Mind you, that doesn’t mean much. Miles could be playing with my mind. If that is my daughter’s name, I could have told him so before my accident. It would be easy enough for him to program any number he liked into this mobile and save it under her name. He told me that he didn’t have a mobile, but if it’s not his, whose is it? I don’t know what to believe any more.
‘Listen,’ I say. ‘I want to speak to you. I really do. But if you’re not going to say anything, I’m going to have to hang up.’
‘Wait,’ the reply comes at last. A tiny voice. Female. Sounds a long way off.
‘Okay, I hear you. I’m listening.’
‘Who is this?’ she asks.
‘Sorry? I’m, er … Who were you calling?’
‘My father. I was calling my father. I’ve been trying to get hold of him for a while.’
Her words set my heart racing. Could she really be talking about me? I want to believe so, but I daren’t get ahead of myself. I remember Miles mentioning his daughter once or twice. Could this be her? What did he say her name was? I’m sure it wasn’t Sam. Or was it? Why can’t I remember anything? Why am I so bloody useless?
I’m looking forward through the windscreen and, all of a sudden, an image flashes in front of me – a spider’s web. Just for a second. Startles me. Then it’s gone.
‘Hello? Are you still there?’
I shake my head. Rub my eyes with one hand. ‘Yes, I’m still here. I was thinking, that’s all.’
‘What were you thinking?’
‘Wait. I haven’t even told you my name yet.’
‘What if I already know your name, but it’s not what you think it is? That leaves me in a fix. If I tell you, you’ll think I don’t know, because it’s not the name you expect.’
‘Why don’t we start with your name, then?’ I suggest. ‘Is it Sam? I think it is, because I heard you gasp when I said it for the first time. Like you didn’t expect me to know that.’
‘Where did you get the name from?’
‘It’s displayed on the phone.’
She laughs. It’s unexpected but warm and genuine. ‘Oh, right. How funny. I love it when things are that simple.’
I scratch the back of my head nervously. ‘So, Sam. Why are you calling me?’
I want to ask her if she’s my daughter, but I don’t dare. Not yet.
‘Damn. I’m going to have to go,’ she replies.
‘What?’ Panic grips me. This could be the key. I could finally be speaking to someone who knows me – knows who I was before my accident. I can’t let her slip away.
‘Keep hold of the phone, but don’t let him see it. I’ll contact you again soon.’
‘Miles, you mean? Don’t let him see it? Why not?’
But the phone’s gone dead. Totally dead. There’s no display at all on the screen any more, as if it’s run out of battery.
‘Shit,’ I say, pressing the power switch and every other button I can find, but it makes no difference. Then I glance in the rear-view mirror and my heart sinks as I see Miles walking towards the car. I shove the phone into the pocket of my jeans and wonder what the hell to do next.
Part of me remains tempted to drive off. Miles is still a little distance away and I could probably make it. Probably. But I’m not confident enough in my ability behind the wheel. What if the muscle memory I’m relying on doesn’t kick in? I need to find a reason to explain the fact that I’m in the driving seat with the key in the ignition. Well, that last bit is easily solved: I remove the key and throw it back in the glovebox. Now I have to think of something to tell him about why I’m sitting in his car.
I rack my brains for something – anything – and then it comes to me. I reach for the pocket of the passenger seatback, hoping and praying. My hand finds what it’s looking for not a moment too soon, pulling it out as Miles’s shadow announces his arrival at the side of the Land Rover.
I turn to face him and meet his puzzled look with a grin.
‘Hi there,’ I say, opening the door and climbing out of the ever mud-caked car. ‘Damn. You caught me. I was about to drive off.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Only joking. I was looking for this,’ I say, holding the portable radio aloft. ‘I’ve been searching for it everywhere. Then it occurred to me that I might have left it here last time we went to the village.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yeah. I had it in my pocket. It must have fallen out.’
‘Right. I see. How’s the stomach? I thought you were—’
‘Well, it all came out in one big gush. I feel better now, but ask me again in half an hour.’
Miles winces. Nobody likes to hear the details of someone else’s diarrhoea. Not even a doctor.
‘So what’s the plan for today?’ I ask.
‘Um, I left you a note in the house. I though
t you were upstairs. I need to head out for some supplies.’
‘To the village?’
‘No, the supermarket. Food stocks are getting low. You can come if you like.’
‘Sure. I can do, if you need my help, although I would rather stay in the vicinity of a toilet for the time being. I wouldn’t want to be caught short.’
‘Fair enough. You stay here then, lad.’
‘Stuff it. I’m being a wimp. I’ll come. Let me grab my jacket.’
‘No, no. That’s not necessary. Better to err on the side of caution, especially if it was that crab we had.’
‘Whatever you think is best. You’re the doctor. I can get on with some stuff here in the meantime. Floorboards maybe?’
‘Only if you’re up to it.’
‘Of course I am. I need to earn my keep.’
I enter the house a few minutes later, having waved Miles off. So what now? Things might not have turned out as planned, with him going off in the car and me being the one left behind. But it’s not all bad. I have time to myself to find some answers; to better understand what’s going on.
I pull the mobile phone out of my trouser pocket and have another look at it. It still doesn’t appear to have any power. Is the battery dead? How many bars was it showing when I was talking on it? I wish I’d paid attention. It certainly seems dead. I’ve pressed and held every button on the damn thing and nothing has made the slightest difference. It must be the battery. But how the hell do I charge it without a power cable?
‘Great,’ I say to my reflection in the small grey screen. ‘How’s Sam going to call me back now?’
‘Sam,’ I say, liking the way the name sounds. ‘Sam, Sam, Sam. Who are you, Sam? Are you my daughter?’
And yet, if I did have a daughter, why would I have come here alone and not spoken of her? Am I the kind of person who abandons his family? I had a daughter called Sam in the flashback, right? Yes, I’m sure I did. But wait. She wasn’t the only one. When I think about it, there were two daughters and a wife: I had a family. I’m certain of it. But what were the names of the other two? And which daughter was I with during that other memory I had, when we were trick-or-treating together? I don’t have the answers. I trawl my mind, but nothing appears. As every moment passes, my recollection of this latest precious memory fades. It makes me angry. I mean, seriously, how can I not know these things? How could I not have mentioned them to Miles?
If Ever I Fall Page 25
