Latent Memories

by Charlotte Mills

  The lack of sleep mixed with the long drive had taken it out of me. I flopped back on the sofa, closing my eyes. The loud clicking of the double doors being unlocked next to me jolted me awake. I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep.

  “Robin? Darling, what a lovely surprise.” My mother’s shrill voice made its way into my foggy brain, full of airs and graces she had acquired over the years from mixing with the right calibre of people. Caroline Carson, Assistant Chair of the Rotary Club and avid planner for the Women’s Institute. She could be a doppelganger for Kate Bush while supporting the mannerisms of Margo from The Good Life.

  “Hi, Mum,” I mumbled, my head and voice still groggy from sleep. I got up, following her back into the large kitchen. Murphy joined me with an excited wiggle.

  “Did you forget your keys again?” she asked as she retreated into the dark depths of the long room. Her tone was dripping with sympathy.

  My eyes adjusted to the low light. She was pulling a wine glass from the cupboard.

  “Yeah,” I replied. I was playing right into her hands. She already thought I was damaged goods. Now I could barely string a sentence together.

  “How’s the new job going?”

  I knew she wanted to hear me say I’d quit, that it was all too much for me. “It’s really good. Actually feels great to do something again.”

  “It’s not too much for you?”

  “No. Not at all. I think it’s helping me get back to where I was before.” I tried to sound positive.

  “Don’t push yourself too hard.”

  I ignored her plea. It was only designed to undermine my desire to improve. “Dad not with you?” I deflected, my mind coming online as to why I was here. Within five minutes of her arrival, I’d already begun to regret my decision. I should have gone straight to Manchester. It was probably my imagination, but she had a certain tone when she talked to me, one that instantly frustrated me. It was the same when I was in recovery. It made me feel like that was it for me, this was the best it was going to get. Couldn’t she see I’d improved since the last time I’d seen her? I certainly felt like I had.

  “Toulouse … Back on Thursday.”

  “Oh, I thought he was meant to be cutting down on the traveling,” I said, recalling one of the few and far between conversations we’d had a few months ago.

  “Umm, you know your father. I don’t think he’d know what to do with himself if he wasn’t working.”

  No, I didn’t know my father, not really.

  “Have you been out to lunch?” I enquired as she pulled a chilled bottle of white wine from the large wine cooler.

  “Just a rotary meeting in Disley. So, to what do we owe this pleasure?” she said after taking a sip of her wine.

  “I wanted to talk to you about something,” I said, laying the groundwork.

  “I still can’t get used to your hair,” she said, snubbing my question as she looked at me fully for the first time.

  “Jamie likes it,” I said sharply, wanting to get into it immediately.

  She hesitated before taking another sip of her wine. “Who’s that, darling?”

  “You know exactly who I mean. Jamie, the woman you refused to visit me at the hospital. We’d been together for seven months,” I said incredulously, still surprised at the length of time myself.

  She carefully put her drink down before speaking. “Has your memory come back?”

  “No, not really. Just bits and pieces. That’s irrelevant.” I waved my hand. I was determined not to get side tracked. “I know James told you about her.” I watched as she fiddled with the stem of the wine glass in front of her. She started speaking without looking up.

  “When we arrived, she was standing outside your room talking to James. For what it’s worth, she looked devastated. To start with the doctors weren’t very positive. They were still doing tests, scans or whatever. I was so upset when the nurse told us that James was your nominated attorney.”

  I looked at the floor, ashamed at my underhanded approach to prevent my parents getting involved in my life, or almost death in this case. I was even more ashamed to admit that James knew more about me and my life than my own parents.

  “I’m sorry. I know I should have told you … With all the traveling I was doing I thought James would be the best person to contact. You’re not always around.”

  “But we’re your parents, Robin. It should be us making those decisions.”

  “It’s not like we’re close, is it?” I heard the petulance in my voice. I wanted to hurt her. The look on her face told me I’d landed a cruel blow.

  “You never let us in!” Her voice had risen to combat mine.

  “You were never interested, always too busy with your own lives.”

  “We didn’t know her. She could have been anyone. We didn’t even know you had a girlfriend!”

  “Whose fault’s that? You never wanted to know. You both hate the fact that I’m gay.”

  “I don’t. I just … It’s … I never wanted that life for you.”

  “It’s not a choice and it’s certainly not one you can make for me. You can’t edit my life to suit yourselves. You kept someone from me, someone I loved.” My anger had turned into grief as I wiped away a falling tear.

  “Darling, I really don’t want to fight about this.”

  Her condescending tone only served to increase my irritation. She wanted to just sweep it all under the carpet.

  “Did you even want to have children?” I asked sharply.

  She looked up, meeting my eyes. “Robin! That’s not fair!” The sudden brashness in her voice made my eyes widen. “I was so happy when I found out I was pregnant with you. I thought …” Her voice softened. “I thought I’d have someone all to myself, we’d have so much fun together … but I never really felt connected to you no matter how much I tried. I couldn’t be that person.”

  Finally, it was out in the open. “I’m sorry I was such a disappointment to you,” I said, wiping at more fallen tears. In my childhood years I could recall only a handful of occasions when I felt true affection from my mother. I’d learned to deal with it a long time ago, but on occasion it still burned me that we didn’t have a good relationship.

  “You weren’t, aren’t, quite the opposite. You were strong, independent – still are. So different to me.”

  “Is that why you sent me off to boarding school?” I asked softly, still reeling from the sudden compliment she had just given me. As a young child I’d craved some kind of connection with her, but there was none. For years I’d felt like it was my fault. At least now I knew we both felt the same way.

  “I didn’t know what else to do. Your father was no help, always away or–”

  “Or what? With another woman?” I lashed out again, voicing a deeply hidden suspicion I’d harboured for years. It’s not that he wasn’t discreet; he was, thankfully. It was just a feeling I had after a chance meeting in Manchester several years ago. I’d bumped into him as he came out of a restaurant with a woman on his arm. He managed to explain it away as a business lunch, but he was furtive; we both knew he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Unable to meet my eyes, she nodded, ratifying my suspicion. “Is he with someone now?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” She waved her hand as if to dismiss the question.

  “I’m sorry.” Once again I hadn’t thought of the consequences of finding out the truth. “Why didn’t you leave him?”

  Her hand moved to cover her mouth. She was quiet for a few moments as if weighing up the options.

  “Because, despite it all … I still love him … He always comes back to me. I know he’d never leave me, not for any of them. He always comes back.”

  I wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince me or herself.

  “But don’t you want to be with someone who just wants to be with you? Someone faithful?” I struggled to keep my voice calm.

  She finished the rest of her wine in one long gulp before pouring another heft
y portion.

  “I did once, but I couldn’t imagine not being with him. We’ve been together for so long. What would I do without him?”

  “I couldn’t live like that.” I bit my tongue, realising it was too late. I couldn’t understand how she was so resigned to her fate. She must have been lonely for so many years. I’d played my part, disowning her, choosing James instead to make vital decisions on my life, not that any parent would relish that decision.

  “I wouldn’t want you to.”

  I edged closer to her, resting my hands on the worktop next to her. “I’m sorry for shouting.” My words seemed weak and insignificant, considering what she’d put up with. “Does he know, that you know?” I asked, wondering why my father continued to keep the charade going if she knew.

  Her eyes were still focussed on the glass in her hands as she nodded. “He’s made mistakes over the years, called me the wrong name, left things in his pockets.”

  Reaching along the worktop, I pried the glass from her fingers, forcing her to focus her attention on me once more. Stepping closer, I wrapped an arm around her waist, tucking my body into hers. I always felt like a child in her arms. I’ve never quite outgrown her tall frame. Her arms fell around me, rubbing my back, her audible sniff making me grip her a little tighter. The hug seemed to last forever, until she broke the connection, pulling back to wipe at her eyes in an effort to regain her stiff upper lip. I recognised a look of embarrassment on her face. Her hand attempted to tame some of my unruly strands as she spoke. “I like your hair, too.”

  I could only smile in reply. This was unknown territory for me. I couldn’t remember when I’d felt this much love or warmth from her.

  “I’m going to freshen up … There’s food in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

  Looking across the room at the clock on the oven, it was almost six o’clock. I quickly realised I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Opening the fridge, I scanned the shelves for what I could cook. Not an easy task with my limited repertoire. Spotting the large tiger prawns and an overflowing salad drawer, I decided on the obvious and began chopping all the salad ingredients I could find. Hearing the shower turn on upstairs as I prepared the prawns, I wondered how this would change things between us. I’d wanted to be closer to her for so many years, but I’d given up and segregated myself from both of them.

  Grabbing the bags from my car, I fed Murphy before pulling out my Kindle to google the ingredients for a simple salad dressing. I surfed until I found one that didn’t involve more than six ingredients. Settling on a simple vinaigrette, I got to work while the prawns cooked in barbecue sauce. Hearing footfalls at the bottom of the stairs, I turned to see my mother re-enter the kitchen. She looked fresh-faced and relaxed in soft cotton trousers and baggy T-shirt.

  “Right on time. Dinner’s ready,” I said as I placed the dressing on the table between our plates. I balked at my own words, the domesticity of the situation freaking me out. I wasn’t much of a cook at the best of times; I certainly couldn’t ever remember cooking for my mother.

  “Wow! I thought I could hear you cooking. It smells wonderful.”

  I distributed the salad and sticky barbeque prawns between our plates before placing them on the table. We both took our seats as I used my fork to stir the dressing before offering it to my mother. I nervously ate in silence, trying to think of a safe, light-hearted subject.

  “Tell me about Jamie. You’ve seen her?”

  Her question broke through my thoughts. “Yes.”

  “How did you know where … if your memory hasn’t come back?”

  “I pieced some stuff together.” I attempted to explain more, not wanting to shut her out. “In rehab I started to remember things, just bits, but it was always the same woman.” I picked up my water to buy some time.

  “And?” she continued to press.

  “And I didn’t tell anyone. I figured if there was a noteworthy person in my life they would have visited me … Turns out she did early on … I was still out of it and didn’t recognise her.”

  She tentatively reached out her free hand, covering mine. “I’m sorry.”

  Her affection stopped me in my tracks for a moment. “Anyway, after I realised I wasn’t ready to go back to work at Eco-Scape, I was looking for another job to keep me active in the meantime.”

  “The one you have now?” she confirmed. “On the coast?”

  “Yeah, I knew the name Ashill. It sparked something in my brain. I just didn’t know what, but apparently I was on my way there when I had my accident. Jamie’s aunt lived there; we were going to stay with her for the weekend. Jamie lives there now, in her aunt’s house.” I took another drink from the glass of water I’d been holding before I continued. “I came across her the other day. I could see straight away from the look on her face that she knew me … and I knew her. I remembered her face.” I edited the story a little for my convenience. “We met up a few days later she told me about the time we had been together.”

  “How long were you together?”

  “We started seeing each other in May … till November,” I said, not wanting to discuss my accident again. “She showed me some photos. We looked … happy.”

  My mother had been quietly taking it all in. “So, what now?” she questioned.

  “I don’t know. I ran away. I needed some time to think. I need to speak to James.”

  We continued our meal in silence. I felt guilty and selfish for running out on Jamie. I wanted to call her, but I didn’t know what to say to her. I needed answers before I could speak to her again.

  “That was really lovely. Thank you.” Her presence pulled me out of my thoughts. She placed her fork down delicately before pushing her plate away. “How did you meet Jamie, originally, I mean?”

  I gave up chasing the last of the sweetcorn around my plate. “In York, when I was working on a contract for the council. She worked for the heritage department.”

  “What does she do now?”

  “She works for the council in Ashill. She found out her aunt had terminal cancer on the same night as my accident. They were close. When I came round and couldn’t remember her, she decided she needed a clean break to care for her aunt … left her job, sold her house and moved down there.”

  “I see. That’s quite a story.”

  “I know.” It was a lot for anyone to take in. “When I came round and couldn’t remember anything from the last nine months, she asked James not to say anything and disappeared without a trace.” I stacked our plates, getting up to place them in the sink.

  “She was very distraught at the hospital. She obviously had a lot on her plate already.”

  Sitting back at the table, I fiddled with my glass of water again. I bit my tongue to prevent me from asking, ‘Why didn’t you let her in to see me then?’ I took a deep breath, not wanting to start another argument or formulate an answer that might not have been totally positive in Jamie’s favour.

  “Does she still care for you?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes, I think so.”

  “And, do you?” She let the question hang in the air.

  “Yes. Maybe … I don’t know.” I wasn’t quite ready to spill every detail about my personal life, especially my inability to hold down a relationship.

  “It sounds like you’ve already made your mind up.”

  I felt the familiar throb in my head. The events of the last week had worn me down. I rubbed my forehead to disperse the heavy feeling that had settled behind my eyes. “I don’t know.” I blew out a long breath. “I think I need to turn in. Will you be okay?” I asked as I got up from the table.

  “I’ll be fine. Sleep well. See you in the morning.”

  I started to walk away in the direction of the stairs, when her voice, softer than usual, calling my name, stopped me in my tracks. Tired maybe, but there was something else in her face when I turned around: relief that there was finally some honesty between us.

  “I’m glad we’ve talked,” she cont
inued.

  “Me too.” I felt like we had cleared the air, not just about my accident but our relationship in general. Maybe we could build on this, become closer at last, like we’d both wanted for so long, but neither of us could bring ourselves to admit. I wondered what I would say to my dad the next time I saw him.

  “Please don’t say anything to your father that you know about his … indiscretions.”

  It was like she had read my mind. I felt my face harden at her words. “If that’s what you want,” I relented as I shoved my hands deep into the front pockets of my jeans.

  “It is. I’d like a little time to think about what I want.”

  “Okay. Good night.” I wondered what that meant. Would she leave him, or force him to make a choice? I hadn’t intended to be quite so frank with my mother, but once I started I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. I wasn’t normally one for confrontation, but first Jamie, now my mother; I was clearing house, making a fresh start. James was next on my list.

  Chapter 13

  After breakfast, I left Murphy in my mother’s capable hands to drive over to Manchester. Pulling into our small carpark that served the whole building, I recognised James’s SUV in the corner space. He must have got here early to get that prized spot, so called due to its location with no one parked behind you; it was always easy to get out. I remembered our arguments when we first moved into the building; our floor was allocated a number of spaces and James wanted to label them, insisting, due to the size of his car, that he should get the prime spot. My car then, like now, was considerably smaller, hence I relented, allowing him his victory, but every time I arrived later than him, I parked so close he would have to enter his car through the passenger door. I missed those interactions with James. We argued like siblings and I loved every minute of it. I felt a wave of guilt at my absence from our business. I hoped I would be able to resume normal duties sometime soon.