I looked up from Murphy, meeting her eyes, a little speechless.
“I saw you both as I ran along the beach earlier,” she offered.
“Oh … no not yet,” I said, finding my voice.
“Mia.” Her voice had recovered its strength. I looked down at her hand, realising she was greeting me formally. I reached out, gripping it firmly.
“Robin, and this is Murphy.”
“She’s a lovely dog.”
I smiled, a little proud that other people could see what I could see in Murphy. “Thanks.”
“How old is she?”
I subconsciously totted up the time since I had first spotted Murphy in the rehoming centre almost four months ago. “She’s about ten or eleven months old. She’s a rescue,” I added at the end, to somehow justify her behaviour.
“Are you on holiday in the area?” she asked, focusing her attention on me.
“Uh … no, we’ve just moved here for work.”
“Oh right … well, welcome to the area. What do you do?”
I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from saying ecological landscaping. “Gardening and landscaping work for the local council.”
She nodded her head as if approving my line of work. “I’ve never been very green fingered myself. There isn’t a plant alive that I can’t kill off.”
Managing a small laugh and smile at her reply, I tried to think of something else to say but nothing came.
“Well, I should get going. Good luck with your new job.”
“Thanks … and sorry about earlier.”
“No problem. See you around.”
***
My car was delivered the following day, giving me my freedom back. James had of course offered to drive it down and help get me settled in, but I’d refused his offer, knowing I needed to be more independent.
I was all too aware that soon Murphy would be on her own for too long, several days a week and it made me feel bad that she would be worried and anxious that I wasn’t there. The plan in the back of my head was to get into a position where I would be able to take her to work at least one day a week to break up the time she would spend on her own. It would be a great opportunity for her to socialise with other people, considering how much time we spent solely in each other’s company. But, for now, I needed to dog-proof the house as much as possible ready for my first day at work tomorrow. I had learnt the hard way that nothing could be overlooked after she had chewed up a pair of glasses and a remote control that I had accidentally left within her reach back in Manchester a month after I had brought her home. Considering we were living in furnished, rented accommodation, I needed to be careful that murphy didn’t leave her distinctive mark on the place when she was on her own.
My flat was largely open plan; I could shut some doors, but when Murphy was on her own she occupied the main kitchen-diner-sitting room. At least here I could keep her in the kitchen, which was large enough for her to roam around. I set up her bed under the table, which had become her go-to place when she wanted a bit of peace and quiet.
Dog-proofing completed, I took a long, hot bath to help me relax. I was a little worried about starting work. I was hoping to prevent a repeat of the confidence rattling that happened when I returned to work in Manchester. Drifting off in the bubbles, strong, blue eyes shone back at me as I floated along; we were together treading water as we laughed; the stars were out above us. I could hear a man’s voice in the background as a laser pointer made its way across the sky, pointing out the various constellations. I turned at Murphy barking on the beach; she was frantic, like she wanted to come in with us but was too scared to swim out to us. I turned back to see the blue-eyed blonde had disappeared.
Chapter 3
My new boss, Miles Hendricks, seemed pretty relaxed. I remembered meeting him during my interview last month. Miles was in his mid-forties with a thick head of bushy hair, well-built and tall. He seemed to dwarf any seat he sat in, even the large transit van we drove around in all week. He was gentle and kind, and I liked the way he talked about his job. He was passionate about the new regeneration scheme currently underway in the area and the work it would bring us in the coming months. I thought maybe that was one of the reasons my application had been received favourably. I was keen to be involved in the planning and organising; at least this way I could take a step back if it got too much for me.
Miles kindly offered to break me in gently for the first few days. After a basic office induction, we headed out to clear the last of the fallen leaves in the grounds of the council buildings on the edge of town. Living in a flat and generally being involved in the surveying, designing and planning of most of the landscaping work I had done, I hadn’t cleared leaves on this scale in years. After two days on site, I can honestly say that raking and collecting leaves in the wind is an extreme Sisyphean task.
It was only my first week and although we hadn’t done anything majorly exciting yet, I was enjoying it. I was beginning to take pleasure in clearing leaves, sanitising an area in preparation for new growth. It wasn’t on par with the landscaping projects of my past, but it was still satisfying in its own way. All in all I was pretty happy as I came to the end of my first week. Checking my watch as I made my way back to the work trailer with a barrow full of tools, I saw that it was almost 4.00 p.m.; I figured we’d be heading back to the work store pretty soon. I delicately steered the wheelbarrow away from the worst of the potholes that littered the edge of the carpark to prevent the tools from dislodging from their precarious positions. Looking up at the cross-shaped building set in the large grounds, I observed the ornate carvings around the large doorways and what looked like a bell tower above where the two building intersected. The windows had been replaced at some point, but the doors looked original. They were open, secured back against the inside of the wall, exposing a more modern glass interior entrance. I used to be able to place buildings into an historical era, but now I struggled to separate their individual characteristics. The fact that it looked old is about all I knew, maybe an old workhouse of some kind refurbished into offices.
A familiar laugh stopped me in my tracks. I scanned the length of the car park, looking for its origin. Four maybe five cars away, I saw a figure pass by through the side windows of a Land Rover. I moved a little closer, trying to get a better look. That same female voice sounded again. I knew it but I couldn’t quite place it. She sounded happy, on a phone maybe, as I could only hear one side of the conversation. She was obviously talking to a close friend by her choice of vocabulary.
“Okay …” Another laugh. “Oh, really … well then next time we can work on that …”
I edged past the row of cars where the Land Rover was parked. She was resting a stack of papers on the bonnet of a car. I couldn’t see the car clearly; it was hidden behind a van that was parked in front of her. Her face, I knew it – it was her, the woman I had seen in my head for so long. She was right there in front of me. Her hair was different, longer, tied back in a ponytail. I felt my hands start to slip on the handles of the wheelbarrow. In my rash attempts to right it, a rake slipped off the end, clattering to the floor. I quickly bent to retrieve it, risking another quick glance at the woman as I stood up grasping the rake.
She looked straight at me. The look on her face worried me; I surely wasn’t that scary. The rake maybe, but it hadn’t been loud as it fell to the floor and was far from an offensive weapon. She continued glaring at me while I loaded the rake back on the barrow. She seemed to have forgotten about her phone call as her phone hung squashed between her shoulder and right ear.
“What! Oh yeah, that’s fine … I’ll … uh … call you later.”
I wanted to approach her, but my feet were welded to the floor. What would I have said? Hi, I dream about you … Have we met before? The look on her face was like some kind of force field preventing me from moving. She dropped her phone, grabbing at it, placing it on her paperwork stack and looked in a daze as she fumbled for her keys. There wa
s definitely recognition in her eyes. She knew me, I was sure of it. What else could explain her reaction to seeing me? It certainly wasn’t a reaction I wanted to evoke in someone. Had we parted on bad terms? Maybe I had the unfortunate luck of resembling a local mass-murderer and didn’t know it yet. My walkie-talkie piped up. I recognised Miles’s echoey voice as he called my name. Reluctantly, I withdrew my gaze, unclipped it from my belt and brought it up to my face. It took a couple of seconds for my mouth to form words.
“Hey, Miles … What’s up?” My voice sounded distant.
“Robin, can you bring back the loppers? There’s a few trees that need pruning around this side.”
“Sure, no problem,” I replied before hanging up.
The blonde had gathered herself together, escaping to the safety of her car, although I could see her eyes were still firmly on me. I wanted to ask her if or how she knew me, but the continued look of shock on her face prevented me from approaching her. She started her car and began preparing to reverse out of her space. Now wasn’t the time. My hands were shaking as I grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow. I was scared. I desperately wanted to know everything, but what if it wasn’t good news? What if I had been a complete bastard to her?
I continued with the wheelbarrow, quickly covering the remaining fifty feet to the trailer. With all the tools unloaded, I heaved the barrow in after them. Selecting two pairs of loppers, I headed back round to Miles. I’d surreptitiously been listening out for the car pull away; she must still have been sitting there. Walking by, I could see she had half-pulled out of the space and was on the phone again. A look of panic still covered her face. I would have given anything to know who she was talking to and what she was saying. I gave her a final half-smile, hoping it would ease her panic before leaving her line of sight.
Returning to Miles, I found it hard to focus. What did it all mean? What was she to me and, more importantly, what was I to her? Some of the dreams were pretty racy; we were close or at least in my head we were. Maybe I was her stalker, which would explain her reaction. Surely someone would have told me if I had that in my past. I shook the thought from my head. I wasn’t crazy; I just had a few memory issues. James was my closest friend; he wouldn’t have kept something like that from me. I’d never been obsessive about women. I was always the person who could walk away, no strings, but there was something about her. The more I tried to grasp it, the more it slipped away.
I mindlessly worked along the tree line until Miles called time. We loaded up the brash on the other wheelbarrow, before heading back to the trailer. As we entered the car park I realised I hadn’t even taken note of what car she was driving. My one hope was that she was still there waiting for me to return so she could explain it all to me. No such luck, just an empty space where she had been parked.
“So, how did you find your first week?” Miles asked as we approached our truck.
Realising I had been quiet since my encounter with the mystery blonde, I attempted to make conversation with Miles.
“Great … It’s so good to be working outside again.”
“I know what you mean. I’m not one for being cooped up inside all the time,” he replied as he placed his loppers in the trailer.
“So, are these government offices?” I asked, recalling the signs I had seen earlier, trying to discreetly get more information on my location.
“Yeah, council offices … the main headquarters. You’ll be here next week for your induction training.”
“Oh, right.” I hoped I hadn’t scared her off for good and if I was lucky enough to see her again, I trusted we would both be a little more vocal.
***
Arriving home a little after five, I immediately let Murphy out in the garden while I quickly changed into my jogging gear. Last week had been a positive step in getting into a routine. I wanted to try and run at least a few days a week. I certainly felt the need for it after the day’s events. As we walked to the beach, our pace seemed to increase as Murphy’s excitement grew. After running and walking for almost an hour, we headed back home. Murphy had a big enough appetite for both of us. I left her chasing her food bowl around the kitchen as I selected a cold drink from the fridge and went to run a hot bath.
I tried to relax as I lay back in the scorching water. I had come to love having a long soak. Something I had never really had time for before my accident. There always seemed to be models to make or research to do; I had to settle for a quick shower before getting back to work. Even when I was working away, I never quite felt comfortable having a bath in a hotel bathroom. It just felt wrong somehow when there was so much work to do.
I looked down at Murphy lying on the furry bath mat. She was on her side like she was in mid-run. Spotting my cold drink, I stretched out to grab it. Murphy’s eye flipped open at my movement. After taking a long drink, I could see I was still under her scrutiny as I placed it back on the side. Peering over the side of the bath, I said, “Hey baby,” in a soft voice.
Her reply was to remain in position, her waging tail bashing against the floor her only retort to my words. I stared at her for a long moment until she slowly closed her tired eyes. The run on the beach obviously had the right effect on her. I wished it had the same effect on me.
How was it possible that she could be the woman that had been in my head for so long? It must be some kind of coincidence. The shocked look on her face when she saw me said otherwise. I couldn’t escape that stare she gave me while she fumbled with her phone. She knew me. I sank back under the water in an effort to clear my mind. My heartbeat throbbed in my head as I replayed the scene in the car park. Her hair was shorter in my dreams, but those eyes … It had to be her. I trawled my brain for anything to link her to my past. I knew it was useless, but I couldn’t stop myself. I didn’t even know her name. The more I forced it the less I could focus and filter through the various possibilities. Was she someone I had met through university? Or work? A fling maybe? Is that why she was so shocked? Did we part on bad terms? I did look pretty different now with shorter hair.
I burst through the surface of the water, gasping to catch my breath as the pain in my chest eased. Murphy stood up to look at me before circling the bath mat and flopping down in much the same position as before. I lay back, wallowing in the heat of the water, staring at the white tiles to try and clear my head, propping up my legs, exposing them to the cooler air from the open window. The water rushed from the surface of my skin, creating a complex structure of veins on the surface until they withered away, disappearing into the steaming water. Sitting up, I reached for my drink again, straightening both legs under the water, creating new bubbly continents above my tired limbs.
Sleep was a desire that never quite arrived. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was her face, her piercing blue eyes as she laughed. I could almost feel her hands on me as we cuddled up, snuggling on a bed in what looked like a hotel room. Then we were in a car, I was driving, it looked like the inside of my old roadster. She was talking but I couldn’t quite hear what she was saying.
In the early hours of the morning, I made a promise to myself to try and find out more one way or another. I needed to know who she was and how she had known me. I considered calling James to pump him for information, but I didn’t know where to start. I keep having dreams about this woman, always the same one. I could picture him, his eyes rolling back in his head as he heard my words.
Chapter 4
I vacantly stared out the sitting-room window as I drank the last on my tea; it faced the quiet residential street. Baxter Avenue was made up of a mixture of bungalows that had remained as such with a smattering of others that had been developed with an upper floor. No doubt there was a direct correlation between the age of the individual residents and the number of floors they had. I watched the old woman in the one-storey residence opposite as she brushed what looked like fresh air off her front path. Looking up, I saw a magpie sitting on her television aerial, spying on her as she worked. I ho
ped it wasn’t some kind of omen.
“One for sorrow,” I mumbled to Murphy as I walked back to the kitchen.
The weekend had gone quickly, even though my time off was currently longer than my working week. Maybe this job finally balanced out all the extra hours I worked with James building up our company. Every time I’d left the house to go to the beach or shopping I kept my eyes peeled for the mystery blonde. We’d even ventured out to one of the large nature reserves on the outskirts in an effort to get her out of my head. I’d considered calling James again on a number of occasions, but I still found it hard to believe he would keep that kind of information from me, and to what end if he had? If she had been a love interest of some kind, it didn’t necessarily follow that James knew anything about her. I didn’t spill all my secrets.
I looked at the clock as I washed out my mug; it was almost nine. I had to be at the council offices for my induction training at nine thirty. I began preparing the house for my departure and Murphy’s incarceration. Not surprisingly, I had discovered she was a bit of a chewer. I closed all the doors, securing her in the kitchen and gave her a final rub down, trying to extract as much sea water as possible from her legs after her morning dip. Retrieving the marmite-filled Kong and chew stick from the worktop in the hope she would spare the table legs for something tastier, I dropped them on the floor near her bed.
“See you later, sausage,” I said as I flicked on the radio before heading for the door, taking one last look before locking up behind me.
***
The induction training was extremely dull. I sat there wondering if the orientation I’d given to one of our new surveyors at Eco-Scape was as bad. It didn’t normally come under my remit, but James had been on holiday at the time. Here they seemed to take great pleasure in dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. I was just grateful there wasn’t any roleplay. Respite only came at lunch time; the canteen was large and spacious with windows covering two sides of the room. I walked over to the far corner, hoping to avoid many of the people I had just spent the last three hours with, and there she was, on the last table in the row, her back against the window, reading through some paperwork. I contemplated my next move as I walked the length of the canteen again. My need to know more took over. I couldn’t walk away from this opportunity. I felt so sure she was or had been part of my life at some point. I moved slowly towards the opposite side of the table. She was engrossed in reading while fiddling with her ID badge hanging on a light blue lanyard in front of her. I squinted, focusing on the name across the front below a blurry photo of what looked like her. Where were my glasses when I needed them? It began with a J, I knew that much, but the letters were too small. I edged a little closer, forcing my eyes to read the name.
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