by Dani Atkins
Her hand was already on the doorknob as she turned back to me once more. ‘You know, Lisa would have really liked you. She’d have been pleased with who they chose.’
There was nothing I could think of to say to that, so I didn’t even try.
*
It felt like I’d walked back into an entirely different party. The one I’d left had shocked-faced hosts, slightly uncomfortable-looking guests, and a huge puddle of red wine on the floor. The one I returned to had spotless tiles and a relaxed air. I could hear it in the laughter and casual banter as I descended the stairs wearing Dee’s borrowed top.
As I’d suspected, the navy T-shirt was far more form-fitting on me than it probably was on her. The silhouette in their bedroom mirror had looked a little too Jessica Rabbit for my liking, with the top clinging to me in all the right – or wrong – places. I forced my shoulders back from an instinctive stoop, took a deep steadying breath, and returned to the kitchen.
In the ten seconds before anyone noticed me, I saw that the party dynamic had changed. Barbara had produced a pair of chunky wooden needles and a skein of wool from her bag and was guiding Maisie’s small hands through what I imagined was her first knitting lesson. It ignited a flashback memory I hadn’t visited in years, of my grandmother doing exactly the same with me when I was around Maisie’s age. Barbara’s smile was beatific as she patiently guided the little girl’s hands, picking up every dropped stitch along the way.
On the other side of the room, Jamie was showing Connor a game on his phone that from the sound of it might not have been entirely age appropriate. Which possibly explained why Connor appeared to be enjoying it so much.
But it was the far end of the kitchen that held the greatest surprise. Todd was leaning back against the cupboards, his arm looped casually around Dee’s shoulders, and opposite them, laughing with an ease I’d not heard before, were Alex… and Mac.
Even though he had his back to me, Alex was the first person to register my return. He spun around, a big smile already in place as I stood in the doorway like a vampire seeking an invitation to enter.
‘Molly. Are you okay now?’
It was a curious question, as though I’d been upset about something, when in reality the only thing that had been upset was my glass of wine.
‘I’m fine.’
‘Oh, that top looks great on you,’ said Dee, inadvertently drawing every eye in the room to the skin-tight garment. ‘Way better than it does on me, in fact.’
The kitchen felt suddenly warmer, but perhaps that was because someone had closed the patio doors in my absence.
‘Molly had a bit of a mishap with a glass of wine,’ Alex explained to Mac.
Mac’s eyes went straight to mine, and it was impossible not to see the light of amusement dancing in their depths. ‘How unusual,’ he murmured, his voice gently teasing.
I probably deserved that, seeing as every time we’d met I’d either dropped, broken or spilt something.
‘What can I say? Juggling-school dropout.’
That made him laugh, and I could sense the others were waiting for us to explain, but neither of us did. I quite liked having our own private joke – even if it was at my expense.
‘What made you change your mind about coming tonight?’ I asked quietly, as soon as the attention was focused away from us.
Mac looked momentarily uncomfortable, his glance travelling across the room to Alex, who was now talking to Jamie and Connor.
‘The official version is that my house guest had other plans for the evening, so I was free to come. But in truth…’ His voice trailed away, sounding a little lost. ‘I don’t really know. It just felt too… ungrateful not to come.’ He shook his head, unhappy with his choice of words, but unable to find better ones. ‘Does that make any sense at all?’
‘More than you could imagine,’ I said, my eyes lingering on Alex and Connor.
I leant in closer to Mac, with the intention of explaining further, but got immediately distracted by the head-whirling aromas of whatever he’d used in the shower, together with his own signature smell. For the second time that night, standing so close to a man had left me confused. With Alex, my heart had pounded at the familiarity, but my reaction to Mac was something altogether different. I am not attracted to you. I will not go there, I told myself, so firmly that for an awful moment I wondered if I’d actually said the words out loud.
Mac was still looking at me as though I was relatively sane, so I guessed I hadn’t. Even so, it was a mantra I knew I would do well to repeat regularly.
‘Mac was just telling us about the opening ceremony for a building he designed,’ Todd said, filling me in on what I’d missed. ‘It’s that tall glass one in the centre of town; the one with all the fountains.’
My desire to play it cool around this man now faced another challenge. I knew the building in question; everyone in the area did. It was exceptionally beautiful and stood out like a jewel in a sea of concrete monoliths.
‘You designed that?’
Mac blushed, a seemingly rare occurrence. ‘Well, there was a whole team of very talented architects supporting me, but yes, I was the project leader.’
I liked his modest generosity. ‘It’s a really beautiful building. You have an incredible eye.’
There’d been many times in my life when I’d have given anything to press rewind and erase what I’d just said, and this was definitely another of them. The rest of the room had fallen silent at exactly the wrong moment, and it was obvious that everyone present was all too mindful of precisely whose eyes Mac was now seeing through.
Mac rescued the moment by drawing the conversation back to the building under discussion. ‘I started work on it quite a few years ago.’ And because it was now impossible for any of us to avoid the elephant in the room, he added, ‘Actually, it was the last thing I finished before my sight got so bad I was forced to step down.’ He looked across the room, his gaze finding Alex. ‘I never thought I’d get to see the completed building. But thanks to Lisa, and the incredible thing she did, I can.’
Alex gave a tight nod of acknowledgement before his eyes darted worriedly over to Connor to make sure he’d neither heard nor understood Mac’s words. Thankfully, he had not.
‘And that’s why I’d like you all to come as my guests to the opening ceremony,’ Mac continued. ‘It should be a fun night: black tie, champagne bar, that kind of thing.’
Without taking time to consider the invitation, Jamie jumped in with his response. ‘Can I be absolutely honest—’ he began.
To our credit, not one of us asked, I don’t know… can you?
‘—black tie isn’t really my kind of thing. Would you mind terribly if I passed?’
‘No, of course not,’ Mac said graciously.
My own response was pure knee-jerk. ‘Er, I’m not sure I can make it either.’ I felt, rather than saw, Alex’s eyes fix on me. Too late, I realised I should have waited until I knew the date of the event. ‘It’s just that I don’t usually go out on a school night,’ I added lamely, which was right up there with ‘the dog ate my homework’ as pathetic excuses went.
‘Fortunately it’s on a Friday night,’ Mac said smoothly.
‘Oh, well, I’m not sure I have the right kind of thing to wear to that type of event.’ At least that one wasn’t a lie.
‘Is that important?’ he asked, which said as much about the old Mars/Venus theory as it did about Mac’s knowledge of women. ‘What you have on right now looks great. Couldn’t you just wear something like that?’
Once again, everyone’s attention was drawn straight back to me. Dee flashed me a sympathetic look and thoughtfully swivelled the spotlight elsewhere.
‘Well, I’d love an excuse to get all dressed up, but sadly I doubt we’ll be able to get a babysitter for a Friday night.’
‘I could do it,’ said Barbara, who’d been following the conversation as though watching a very interesting play. There was a hesitancy in her eyes as th
ey travelled from Alex to Dee. ‘That’s if you’re happy to trust them with me.’ Her forehead creased, creating even more lines. ‘I don’t have any references or anything. But it would be an honour to look after these two poppets and let you all have a night out together.’
Alex bent and pressed a kiss on her cheek. ‘No references needed,’ he said gently. Barbara went a little pink but seemed to grow in stature at the compliment. ‘But Mac’s invitation included you too,’ he reminded her.
She glanced from Alex to Mac with an expression that would have moved even the stoniest of hearts. ‘I’m not much of a party person any more, now that Archie’s gone. It would be a joy to help out by looking after the little ones for a few hours.’
‘That’s decided then,’ said Todd happily, pre-empting any further discussion or decision-making, which I suspected his wife might call him on later.
‘Will you come, Molly?’ Mac asked, turning to me once again, perfectly aware I was clean out of excuses.
I nodded slowly.
‘I can pick you up, if you’d like,’ suggested Alex. ‘It doesn’t make sense for all of us to drive or turn up in separate taxis.’
‘Great,’ Mac replied, irritatingly accepting Alex’s offer on my behalf.
I tried to think of a way of extricating myself, but there was no way of doing so without sounding rude, or, worse, of making it obvious I was nervous of being alone with Alex.
I smiled at him as, deep within my chest, my traitorous heart thumped out a tattoo of approval.
24
Alex
Alex’s knees cracked like a rifle shot in the darkened room as he bent to lift up a sleeping Connor from his brother’s couch. Connor stirred briefly in his arms, mumbling something indistinct before burying his face in the soft wool of Alex’s jumper.
Alex turned to his brother and sister-in-law, who had tiptoed into the lounge to retrieve their own sleeping child. ‘Thank you. Both of you,’ he said quietly. ‘For tonight, and for making them feel welcome. It meant a lot to me.’
‘They’re good people,’ Dee said, sounding worried. ‘I really like them, all of them.’
Todd’s eyes went briefly to his wife’s. Something passed between them in a code Alex couldn’t crack.
‘But—’ began Todd.
Alex could have bet money on there being a ‘but’.
‘— have you thought about where any of this is going, Alex?’
‘You can’t plan that, you can’t plan anything,’ Alex said, unable to keep the bitterness from his words. ‘You have to let things run their course. And that’s what I’m doing here.’
‘Just don’t… Don’t…’
‘Don’t what, Todd?’ Alex asked, though he was pretty sure he knew where this was heading. Dee’s dropped gaze confirmed his suspicion.
‘Don’t go reading things into this that aren’t there. That thing tonight, with the moth… it didn’t mean anything.’
Alex thought he saw a flicker of fear in Todd’s eyes. All of this must be tearing his pragmatic solicitor’s soul to shreds, he realised. ‘You see it too,’ Alex said. ‘I know you do. You’re just too scared to admit it.’
Their eyes locked. It was a game they used to play as kids. Back then, Todd always won, but there was a steely conviction in Alex’s gaze tonight that made his victory inevitable. Todd was the first to look away.
‘Do you remember what Lisa used to say?’ Alex asked them both.
Todd looked to be just a blink or two away from crying; not for Lisa – his tears for her were all but spent – but for the man she’d left behind.
‘She used to say she would always love us “with every beat of her heart”.’
‘And your point is?’ asked Todd nervously.
‘That heart is still beating.’ Alex looked down at the sleeping child in his arms. ‘It’s not over yet.’
*
Was it Connor’s mumbled words that had set him on this path, Alex wondered? It was gone two o’clock in the morning and his eyes felt hot and gritty, but he was unable to stop himself from clicking on just one more link. No – he couldn’t and wouldn’t blame his son for this journey he’d embarked on. He’d have got here himself sooner or later. All Connor had done was nudge him a little closer to the edge of the rabbit hole. It was Alex’s decision to allow himself to tumble head first down into it.
Surprisingly, Connor hadn’t stirred when Alex had unclipped the car’s seatbelt and carried him into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. The excitement of the evening must have wiped him out, because even tugging off his trainers and slipping off his clothes had scarcely roused him from his sleep.
He was as floppy as a rag doll as Alex eased him into his favourite Star Wars pyjamas and laid him gently on the bed. He bent to kiss the little boy’s forehead as he tucked the duvet more securely around his slight body.
‘Goodnight, son,’ Alex whispered softly.
For just a moment, those impossibly long eyelashes fluttered, but Connor’s bright blue eyes remained closed.
‘Mummy?’ he asked faintly, lost in a dream where the terrible last seven months had never happened.
‘No, sweetheart, it’s Dad,’ Alex said. ‘Mummy’s not here.’
His son’s lips curved into an unexpected smile. ‘Yes, she is,’ he corrected, still fast asleep. ‘She came back.’
Too many geese to count strutted over Alex’s grave. They were still doing it as he crept silently from his son’s room.
His own clothes never made it to the laundry basket, and he stepped over them like landmines as he climbed onto his bed and reached for his MacBook. He piled up the pillows behind him and propped the open laptop on his bare legs. Even the subdued lighting from the bedside lamps was too bright for his tired eyes to cope with. But that was okay, because somehow this felt like the kind of search that ought to be conducted in the dark, with only the glow of the screen to light the room.
He hadn’t even made a dent in the 85,700,000 hits Goggle had found for him before the laptop grew too hot for his skin to bear. In fact, it wasn’t just his legs that were feeling the heat, his whole body seemed to be burning, as though an uncontrollable blaze was travelling through his capillaries. He got up, strode to the window and flung it open, his thoughts instantly returning to the incident in Todd’s kitchen.
‘Don’t go there,’ Todd had advised. But Alex was way ahead of him and had been since the moment he’d heard Molly’s shriek as the moth landed on her arm. Her startled cry had seemed to surprise her, but it hadn’t surprised Alex – he’d heard it many times over the years.
Cellular memory. This was more than just a phrase he’d stumbled across when reading about transplant patients: it was the key to a door he’d not felt quite ready to unlock. But now he was. The evidence was becoming too compelling to ignore.
By the time dawn had begun lightening the sky to a dull grey, Alex had half filled a ruled pad with scribbled notes and citations. He’d highlighted some words and underlined others so vigorously his pen had gouged grooves into the pages he’d not yet turned. There were question marks beside some phrases: Personality changes? Food cravings? Others were circled in red – the ones you want to believe in most, said a voice he’d spent most of the night studiously ignoring. The one his eyes returned to time and time again was printed in defiant strokes and ringed in red on the first page of his notes: Memories from the donor’s life???
*
In the two weeks that followed, Alex spent every free moment reading everything he could about cellular memory. His interest was in danger of tipping into an obsession; even he could see that. But like anyone with a compulsive condition, he was getting very good at hiding it.
He now had three notebooks filled with case histories. He found the accounts of patients who exhibited new interests and skills particularly fascinating. They ranged from the woman who was terrified of heights who’d taken up climbing after receiving the lungs of a mountaineer; the man who previously couldn’t
draw, and now could, after receiving an artist’s organ; to the twenty-five-year-old man who’d received a woman’s heart and now had an insatiable desire to go shopping. But there were darker tales too that haunted him in the middle of the night. Patients with recurring nightmares featuring the manner their donor had died and even a terrifying tale of a man who’d taken his own life in the same way his donor had done. Those Alex skipped over, hungry only for accounts where patients remembered people and places they had never been, but which their donor had known and loved.
His tuxedo felt loose. The collar of his dress shirt was roomy too, in a way he couldn’t recall it being before. He attempted to cinch it tighter as he stared into the mirror, trying to remember how long it had been since he’d had to fasten his own bow tie. He missed the ritual of Lisa standing before him, dressed in something that would invariably take his breath away, instructing him to stay still while her long, slender fingers threaded and tied the length of black satin. It had taken him four attempts tonight, and it was still nowhere as neat as Lisa would have made it.
His suit smelt of her, or rather her perfume – the one she used to save for special occasions. A fragrant cloud of it had been released when he’d unzipped the suit bag, lingering on his jacket from a gala event they’d attended. He remembered holding her close on the dance floor beneath a twirling glitter ball that he’d told her looked like a constellation of stars.
‘Says the man who can’t even find the North Star,’ she’d lovingly teased him.
‘Don’t need to,’ he’d replied, burying his face in the fall of her long blonde hair and lightly kissing her neck. ‘You’re my one true north. As long as I have you, I won’t ever get lost.’
Only now he didn’t have her. Or did he?
He pressed the lapel to his face, inhaling the remnants of her scent like an addict desperate for one last hit.
‘Enough now. Enough,’ he told himself sternly, slipping on the jacket and trying to outrun the memory as he jogged down the stairs.
*
The roads were sluggish with rush-hour traffic. Alex briefly took his eyes from them to glance at his watch. He frowned. A crisis at work had delayed him at the office, but as long as he could be straight in and out collecting Connor from his after school club, he might be able to recoup the lost time. He quickly realised that wasn’t going to happen.
