by Stan Mason
‘Of course not! I’m her friend!’ he riposted with mock annoyance.
‘Well if you really are her friend, can you use your influence on Dr. Mahmoud?’
‘Mahmoud? The scientist?’ Ahmed was surprise at the request.
‘He turned her down yesterday. Refused to add her to his list of patients Left her high and dry. Will you do something about it....please?’
‘I’ll try,’ he promised thoughtfully. ‘I’ll go and see him now.’ He nodded to Diana and left the room without hesitation.
Betty turned to her friend. ‘If anyone can swing it...he will. I mean they speak the same language, don’t they? I wouldn’t give up hope yet, dear, Not yet.’
It was almost twenty minutes before Ahmed returned. The two women looked at him with an element of optimism although Diana doubted that the scientist would change his mind.
‘Good news,’ echoed the young Arab with delight. ‘I’ve managed to get his to reverse his decision. He will treat you after all. He wants to see you in one hour’s time.’
Betty clapped her hands with joy. ‘There you are! I knew he’d get Dr. Mahmoud to change his mind. Wonderful...wonderful!
You really are a good friend.’
The three of them stayed together for the next hour until Ahmed reminded her of the appointment. She got into the wheelchair and he pushed her all the way down the corridor to the annex. Mahmound looked up at her as she was wheeled into his office and he stared hard at her for quite some time before speaking.
‘I have your hospital notes here. You have a total blackout with regard to your memory.’
‘That’s correct,’ she said firmly. ‘I remember nothing of the past.’
‘How old are you?’
She stared at him bleakly. ‘I don’t know.. No one told me that. I really don’t know.’
His attempt to trick her clearly failed and he looked down at
the notes in front of him. ‘I have some notes provided by your husband. He says you are forty-three years of age.’
‘Am I?’ she responded in a dull tone.
‘You’re married...’
‘They told me I was married,’ she interrupted sharply. ‘and the man who came to see me told me that he was my husband but I didn’t recognise him. He was a complete stranger to me.’
Mahmoud looked at her face at length and then closed the cover on the notes in front of him placing them at a corner of his desk. ‘Let me have a look at your wound,’ he demanded.
He stood up and went around the back of the wheelchair unwinding the bandages carefully to examine her. He stared at the would intensely, pursing his lips as he did so. ‘Hm,’ he muttered eventually. ‘It would appear that the bullet cut a ridge through your skull breaching it to expose a tiny part of your brain. Other than that, no serious damage seems to have been done. The bone will grow over in due course or the hospital will apply a filler. The reason your memory has failed is because of the shock.’
‘The question is will it ever come back.?’ asked Diana in desperation, hopeful in receiving an encouraging answer.
‘I should imagine it will in time but you will have to be very patient. It may return suddenly or sporadically,‘ he told her as he rewound the bandages around her head. ‘How long you will ask. Well it’s like the proverbial piece of string. It could take weeks, months or even longer.’
‘That’s not very promising, is it, doctor,’ she returned slowly. ‘What can you do to help me?
He returned to his chair behind the desk to face her again. ‘My work deals with the extracts of exotic flowers and plants,’ he informed her seriously. ‘Different essences assist in the cure or prevention of certain diseases. I’m not quite certain what to do with regard to loss of memory but I can try some experiments which might help you. The brain is a minefield of activity of which we know so much and yet so little. We understand about axions and dendrites, the thalamus, the cortex and all the other parts of the brain but we’re really uncertain about many other things concerning its operation. However, if you’re interested in placing yourself under my care, I shall do all I can to deal with your problem in the best way I can. Are you willing to allow me to do that?’
‘I have no choice, Dr. Mahmoud,’ she told him sadly. ‘Do
with me as you will. I just hope that you pull me out of this limbo as quickly as possible.’
‘Good!’ he declared stroking his goatee beard with his hand. ‘I’m going to start by supplying you with the essence of Beotag in the form of tablets. It’s a unique plant which grows in North Borneo for which I have great hopes. In addition, I am going to blend it with another exotic plant which will take the form of an experiment. I have never combined the two of them before. Are you willing to take the risks involved?’
‘What risks are there?’
‘I doubt whether there’ll be anything but a few side-effects.’
‘I’ve nothing to lose,’ she retorted definitely. ‘Use me for your experiment.
He nodded sagely. ‘Whether it will help you in your condition is unknown but we can only try.’
‘Beotag,’ she repeated. ‘I’ve never heard of it before.’
‘Nor has ninty-nine per cent of the world’s population. It’s a very rare plant with unusual qualities that produce fantastic results. I managed to cure Mrs. Naylor of pancreatic cancer when every other doctor told her she had three months to live. She would have passed away over a year ago had it not been for my experiment with that plant.’
‘I know. She told me all about it. I just hope you can cure me in the same way.’
‘I have great hopes for the additional exotic plant but we shall have to wait for some results in due course. He stood up swiftly ending the conversation nodding to Ahmed to be ready to wheel her outside. ‘I will call for you in two days’ time for your first application.’
She nodded with hope in her heart and looked to Ahmed to return her to her room. She discussed the treatment briefly with the young handsome Arab as they went along the corridor and in due course he helped her into bed.
‘He’ll solve the problem, I’m sure,’ said Ahmed confidently. Dr. Mahmoud’s a brilliant scientist with avant-garde ideas. If anyone can help you, he will.’
Hope was all she had as Ahmed bade her farewell. No doubt he would report the incident directly back to the man who alleged was her husband. Not that he would care for he never visited her at the hospital. She mused that at least there would be no surgical treatment but then realised that, as it was all experimental, the
results might take some considerable time before she was cured. In any case, it was better than just laying in a hospital bed with no memory and no hope at all.
That night, her single dream returned to her. She was in a Bedouin tent with Ahmed. Why she should concentrate on his as her lover was beyond her understanding but it happened again. This time she was partly dressed, laying in his arms and kissing him gently on the lips. His hand moved to the back of her neck and rubbed it gently causing an erotic feeling to well up inside her. She tore off his shirt and then removed her brassiere so that his face could burrow into her breasts. He touched her nipple lightly and her head moved back slightly as emotion began to overwhelm her. She had sexual pleasure in her sights with the young handsome dark-skinned Arab and her hands moved between his legs to excite him. But then, as had happened in her earlier dreams, everything ended abruptly and she found herself wide awake staring at the blank ceiling. Why was this happening when her mind and body told her to succumb to the joy of erotic pleasure? It was so unfair! Every time she came to the point where the intimate sexual relationship came to the fore, it all ended in nothing.
* * *
Two days later, Betty Naylor burst into the room almost unable to contain her excitement She dropped her suitcase and walked over to her friend.
‘Well, my dear. It’s time to go. I’m leaving. All the arrangements have been made for me to live with my daughter in Essex. I’m in full recession with the cancer and I can’t wait to leave this hole...if you’ll pardon the expression.’
‘I’m very pleased for you,’ Diana told her with envy in her soul.
‘Not as pleased as I am,’ came the smart reply. ‘I’ve got a second chance in life.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked her friend with a puzzled expression on her face.
‘I’ve got another chance to live my life again and I’m going to find a man to share it with. That’s what I’m going to do.’
‘But what about Mr. Naylor?’ forwarded Diana, concerned about the attitude of her companion.
‘Mr. Naylor....huh! He ran out on me the moment he thought
I was going to die. I had no life insurance and he was a coward...a bloody coward....if you’ll pardon my French. He told me he wasn’t going to look after a dying invalid and buggered off. Now I’m going to look for another man...a real man. Someone who’ll give me all the love and tenderness I deserve. It’s going to be lust and love in that order.’
‘Well I wish you luck,’ returned Diana with a smile on her face. ‘I sincerely hope you find what you want.’
‘Sorry to have to leave you in the lurch like this, dear, but needs must when the Devil drives. I’m going to fly back to England tonight and never come back to this lousy place again.’
‘Essex, you say.
‘Yes....right in the heart of Basildon. There’s a lot of good-looking men there. I don’t have much money but I’ll manage living with my daughter. Who knows, the man I find might have his own house. You never know.’ She paused to finalise their brief meeting ‘Well I’m off now. I hope your memory returns soon. Look after yourself, dear. It’s been nice knowing you.’ She leaned over the bed and kissed Diana on the cheek. ‘I’ll miss you, you know. Not for your conversation but for your companionship. Take care!’
With that final comment, she picked up her suitcase and left the room to disappear out of Diana’s life for ever. It was a bitter blow to be left alone. Now she had only Ahmed to assist her although he was pretty useless except when he entered her dreams.
* * *
The next day, the nurse entered the room with a wheelchair followed by the hospital doctor who had been treating her.
‘We’re going to complete your treatment today,’ he told her candidly.
‘What sort of treatment?’ asked Diana fearfully.
‘We’re going to fill the ridge in your skull with bone-paste,’ he told her bluntly. ‘You can’ go round with a hole in your head for months waiting for the bone to heal across it. We’ll be very careful not to touch your brain. The end result is that the bone-paste will harden, protecting you from any infection when the bandages are removed.’
It seemed a simple procedure but Diana felt that she had to ask the question. ‘Is it absolutely necessary?’
‘I think it is,’ returned the doctor. ‘You’ll be able to have the bandages removed with absolute safety.’
‘Why wasn’t this done earlier?’
‘We’re in Agadir, Mrs. Templeton, not London. We don’t have all the necessary equipment or supplies. They have to be flown in. Now.....let’s get you to the operating theatre.’
The nurse assisted Diana into the wheelchair and swept her out of the room into the corridor on her way to the operating theatre. The operation was quite swift and practically painless, taking less than twenty minutes. Diana soon found herself back in her room again where a visitor was standing at the foot of the bed.
‘Who are you?’ asked Diana somewhat bewildered after the minor operation.
‘I’m Laura, your sister. I’ve come all the way form South Burbank, Los Angeles, to see you.’
‘My sister?’ Confusion reigned in Diana’s mind.
‘I’m your younger sister, Laura. Charles rang me to tell me what happened and I’ve come to see you.’
‘Charles?’
‘Your husband. Robbie and Karen will make their way here soon. You’ll be delighted to see them.’
‘I don’t know a Robbie and Karen,’ bleated Diana tearfully, bereft at the idea of names being put forward to her.
‘They’re your son and daughter.,’ came the response. ‘My...you do have it bad!’
Diana sat on the bed with tears running down her face and Laura went to her, hugging her tightly.
‘Come on, Diana. Don’t fret so. Your memory will return to you soon. You can count on it.’
‘I’ve just had bone-paste to fill the hole in my skull.,’ cried the patient tearfully. ‘I can’t remember a thing!’
‘Give it time,’ commented Laura hardly knowing what to say as she held her sister closer.
Suddenly a vision appeared in Diana’s mind of two children playing on a beach making sand-castles. It flashed through her brain just for a second but it was there.’
‘Did we once play on a beach?’ she enquired moving away from her sister. ‘When we were about eight or nine years old.’
‘I recall that,’ replied Laura casually. ‘It was on Pengelly Beach in Cornwall. We went there with Mum and Dad for a week.’
‘Mum and Dad!’ repeated Diana dolefully. ‘Why aren’t they here to see me?’
Laura went to the end of the bed pausing before she replied with sadness welling up inside her. ‘They were both killed in a car crash in the South of France over ten years ago.’
Diana’s face looked extremely sad as she absorbed the facts of her parents’ demise. ‘I can’t remembers anything,’ she blurted out with frustration. ‘Not even that!’
‘Time’s a great healer, Diana,’ related her sister. ‘Let me remind you of something about our lives together. It may help. But first I’ll tell you about my life in America. I married Jim MacIlroy from California. And we have two children....Rusty and Chuck. They sixteen and fifteen years old.’
She prattled on for some time as Diana climbed into her bed and stared at the blank white wall opposite. The words uttered by her sister sailed over her head for she was unable to connect anything that was said and a wave of despair enveloped her. Her sister had come all the way from the United States and she couldn’t even recognise her. How bad was that? What a dilemma to be in! Worse still, her parents had died in a car crash over ten years ago and she could remember nothing about it. She was simply a shell of a woman without a mind....a vegetable living in an abyss of discontent.
‘I have an idea,’ suggested Laura eventually. ‘Why don’t you come and stay with us in Los Angeles for a while....until you get better? I’ve discussed it with Charles and he agreed. He said that the climate will do you good.’
‘Go to America with you?’ She tried to focus her mind on making such a hard decision but found herself drifting away.
It was then that the nurse intervened turning to Laura.
‘I think your sister’s too tired to think straight. She’s had a very stressful morning in the operating theatre. She’s still suffering badly from the shock of the attack.
Laura stared at her sister and nodded. ‘I’ve booked into a hotel in Agadir,’ she told Diana, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. ‘I’ll come and see you again tomorrow..’
She left feeling miserable about her sister’s plight, devastated that she was unable to do anything to help her.
After she had gone, Diana left the bed and stared out of the window at the courtyard watching her sister leave. The sun was shining brightly and it was clearly hot outside but the room in the
hospital was cool with a fan spinning in the ceiling dispensing cool air. She felt as though she was in a different world; one that was light years away from reality.
Chapter Four
Diana wen
t to Dr. Mahmoud’s office twice within the next two days. He gave her some tablets to swallow each time, telling her that it would a few days before the elements in them were properly absorbed into her body.
‘The green tablet is from the Beotag plant. The red one is from another exotic plant which is so rare that it has no name at the moment. Beotag has a strange effect in that it is possible that ll your hair might fall out but it will grow again much stronger. The effect of the other tablet is unknown and it would be appreciated if you would tell me of any side-effects as soon as they occur.’
‘What kind of side-effects are we talking about,’ asked Diana with interest.
‘Anything from dizziness, vomiting, stomach pains, toothache.....you name it.’
‘I’ll definitely do that,’ she told him, swallowing both tablets with the help of a glass of water. She sat back afterwards inhaling deeply. There...the deed was done! She had started on the experiment but she had no idea where it would take her. She was definitely under Dr. Mahmoud’s care now. It mattered to her if her hair should fall out but she could always use a wig to hide the baldness. The important thing was to recover her memory.
Mahmoud stared at her with a slight smile on his face. ‘You are deeply concerned about your memory, aren’t you?’
‘Wouldn’t you be?’ she retorted rudely. ‘You have no idea what it’s like for your mind to be completely blank.’
‘Do you know you’re more concerned about your condition, which is hardly dangerous to your health, than most cancer patients when they learn they have the disease?’
‘I can’t help that,’ she countered curtly. ‘I think that before the attack I was an independent person relying on my mind. And then there were the dreams.’
His eyebrows shot up at the comment. ‘Dreams?’ he repeated. ‘What sort of dreams?’
Diana wondered for a moment how she had thought about her nightly adventures. Subsequently, she became quite reticent at having to reveal anything about her inner thoughts. Mahmoud recognised this instantly and urged her to come clean.
