by Clare Revell
“You don’t, you daft drongo.” Skippy’s Australian accent came through sharply. “You give her time. Date the sheila all over again. Charm her, make her fall in love with you and maybe as she does, she’ll remember you and all you’ve done together the past nine years.”
Jared looked up, his cup dropping to the table. He closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands. Dayna. What if she remembered Dayna or found the photos? Losing their daughter had almost killed her.
It had killed their marriage.
Could she survive reliving that night again? Could either of them?
7
Jared let himself into the house just after nine thirty. It had been a quiet night, although he’d have preferred a busy one. Then he wouldn’t have worried about Niamh. He wrinkled his nose. Toast? Had Niamh gotten up and made her own breakfast?
“Hello?” He hung his jacket on the coat hooks and took a deep breath. It was definitely toast and coffee.
“I’m in the kitchen.” She sounded cheerful, something she hadn’t been around him for a long time now. She smiled as he came in. “I made you breakfast. It’s not much, but it’ll fill a hole. And I worked out the coffee machine. Kind of impressive, don’t you think?”
“Very impressive.” Surprise filled him, and something touched his soul—a part of him Niamh hadn’t reached in a long time. “And thank you. But should you be standing?”
“I’m not weight bearing which is what they told me not to do. Besides, I can’t sit down all day long. I also discovered that I don’t like coffee. It smells great but tastes nasty, so I’m sticking to tea.”
“How did you sleep?” Jared sat at the table. It may only be beans on toast, but it was a sight for sore eyes and a feast for his empty stomach. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And I didn’t sleep that great, but I never do, first night in a strange bed.” She lowered herself into the chair opposite, setting the crutches against the edge of the table. “Can you say grace, please?”
“Sure.” Jared obliged and then picked up his knife and fork. “I’m sorry you didn’t sleep well. Hopefully you will tonight.”
“Well, it can’t be much worse. Do we have any photos? There don’t seem to be any around. I can’t find any apart from the ones on the mantelpiece of you in uniform and me in robes.”
Jared paused, the cutlery hovering over the food. “No, we don’t have many. Just the few copies I got from your family and mine. We lost everything in a house fire two years ago.”
“Hence the no thatched roof on the house.”
“Yeah.” He concentrated on his food, hoping she’d drop the subject. But she didn’t.
“Only I was thinking, perhaps they’d jog my memory a little. Would Liam have some?”
“Yeah, he would.”
“Can we go see him? It’s the weekend, so he’s not working.”
“I’ll give him a call, and make sure he’s going to be in.”
“OK, thanks.” She twisted her hair around a finger. “You said the house was destroyed in a fire. Could you take me over to where the house was? I want to see it.”
Jared nodded, his stomach threatening to eject his breakfast. He didn’t want to tell her about Dayna. Not while she was being civil to him. The old Niamh was almost there, just below the surface of the woman before him. If she remembered or got told about Dayna and exactly what happened the night of the fire, then the shutters would come down and the ice maiden would return. “There isn’t much left now, or there wasn’t last time I was over there. I’ll take you, but I do need to sleep a bit first.”
“Of course. Sorry, I forgot you were up all night.”
“No worries. Let me sleep until about one and then we’ll go.” He finished his breakfast and stood. “Thank you. Want me to do the dishes?”
“I found the dishwasher. I’ll do them. Sleep well.”
“Thanks.” Jared headed upstairs to his room. He shut the door and pulled out his mobile phone. “Hey, Liam, it’s Jared.”
“Hey, how are things?”
“She still doesn’t remember anything. She’s asking about photos and wants to come over and look at yours this afternoon.”
“Sure.”
“One other thing, please don’t bring out any photos of Dayna. Niamh knows about the fire, as I had to tell her why we had no photos, but doesn’t know about our daughter.”
“She needs to know, Jared. Are you sure that lying to her is a good idea? You shouldn’t do anything to impede her recovery.”
“I’m not lying, just not telling her the whole truth, yet. Niamh’s got enough to cope with right now. Without having to mourn Dayna all over again.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Yes, I am. Some memories are best forgotten. For once, ignorance is bliss.”
****
The morning rain had eased off by noon. After lunch, Niamh made her way down the front path, taking care over each step. Jared walked next to her, his hand just by her elbow in case she fell or slipped on the wet stones. He unlocked the car and held the door for her as she got in.
“Thanks, Jared.” She set the crutches by her legs and wrestled with the belt as he went around the car and got in the other side.
He put the key in the ignition and turned it. Nothing happened. He tried again. Same result. “Oh come on,” he muttered. He tried a third time. The engine turned once then stopped. Shaking his head, he popped the bonnet and got out of the car.
She watched him move around and open the bonnet. She could visualize him bending over the engine looking at it, pulling at the wires. She’d been here before.
Trying to get the car to move again, she sighed. She really didn’t have time for this today. She was due in court in less than an hour and had a meeting beforehand. The car had stalled on a roundabout half way to work and although the engine restarted, the wretched thing refused to move. And in her ‘delicate condition’ as Jarrie and Liam laughingly called it, pushing a car anywhere was not going to happen.
Shaking her head, she reached down and pulled her phone from her bag. Maybe Jared could fix the car, or better yet, pick her up and then come back and sort out this mess. Fortunately, he started his four days off today.
He answered the phone on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Jarrie, it’s me. The car’s being stupid. It stalled and restarted, but it won’t move. I don’t suppose you could be an angel and come and pick me up could you, please? I’m due in court soon and can’t be late.”
“Sure, hon. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, love.” She hung up and then rang the office to warn them she may be in late. She tried to get the car to move again several times but still nothing. Finally, she saw Jared pull up and park behind her. She yanked the keys from the ignition and got out of the car to greet him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with the wretched thing. The engine starts fine, the car just won’t move. But if you could drive me in—”
“Let me have a look first in case it’s something obvious. Pop the bonnet for me and start her up.”
She got back in the car doing as he asked.
Jared checked the engine over, trying different things. “Hmmm.” He moved over to the window. “Show me exactly what you did.”
Niamh did so then glared up at him as he laughed. “What?”
“Try putting it in gear, hon.” Jared had a huge grin on his face. “Cars work better in gear than in neutral.”
Niamh rolled down the window. “Jared?”
He stuck his head around the bonnet. “Yeah?”
“Silly question, but you did have the car in gear just now, didn’t you?”
He looked at her strangely for a moment, and then nodded. “Yeah.” He turned back to the engine and fiddled a bit more. Then he got back into the car and turned it over. The engine clicked once then roared into life. He got out and closed the bonnet. “Just going to go wash my hands. Will you be OK?”
Niamh nodded as he went back in
side, leaving the engine running. He wasn’t gone more than a minute before he was back and they set off. She looked down at her hands. She’d remembered she was pregnant at some point over the past few years, but wasn’t about to tell him. He hadn’t mentioned it at all. Perhaps she’d lost the baby and it was a sore point. Because there was definitely no trace of a child anywhere in the house. But it would explain the voice in her mind calling her Mummy.
****
Jared glanced at her as they pulled into the road they used to live on. Not even a spark of recognition. On the way here, he’d pointed out the park he’d courted her in, the church, the shopping center. All those she remembered, but not being in any of them with him. He tried hard not to let his frustration show. She was convinced she was twenty-six and single. The whole situation must be just as bad for her. If not more so.
His stomach knotted as he parked the car on the roadside. For a moment he saw the house as it was that winter’s night two years ago. Flames leapt from every window and the thatched roof. Cracking timbers and shattering glass mixed with roaring flames and blistering heat. Thick black smoke leapt high into the sky, as inside the inferno, his daughter burned because he couldn’t get her out.
Niamh sat there poker faced. “Are we here?”
He nodded. “Yeah, you want to get out?”
“No.” She looked at him. “There’s no sign of any fire.”
“Looks like the house was rebuilt. No thatched roof this time, though.”
“How long did we live here?”
“Just over five and a half years. I moved in just after we exchanged contracts six months before we married. We spent almost every evening here decorating.”
She inclined her head. “Don’t remember.”
He took a deep breath, exhaling as slow as he could. “Your memories are still there, locked away in your mind somewhere. All we need to do is find the key and unlock them.”
“What if I can’t find the key?” she whispered. “What if they never come back?”
“Then you make new memories.” He laid his hand on top of hers, his wedding ring catching the light. “Either way, nothing will change the way I feel about you.”
She looked at him. “Even though I can’t reciprocate those feelings?”
A knife twisted in his heart, sending shards of pain radiating out through every fiber of his being. Perhaps nothing had changed. “Even then. I’ll be your friend.”
“Are you all right with just being friends?”
Jared looked at her, unable to reply for a moment. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Jared nodded slowly. “Friends are just fine, hon.” He started the car and pulled away. And let’s face it. Being friends is a lot more than we were this time last week.
****
Houses and streets passed outside the car, and Niamh wished she could remember something of the man sitting next to her, but her memory was a big block of Swiss cheese. Not even being here at the house helped. It was like someone took an eraser and rubbed him out.
The image of the blond man filled her mind again. “Jared, can I ask something?”
He glanced at her. “Sure.”
“I keep seeing this man in my mind. He’s tall, around six foot maybe, thick shaggy blond hair, lavender eyes. He always wears a suit, I think. Or black. Something dark at any rate. I just don’t know who he is, except the fact I know him. I don’t suppose you have any idea who he might be?”
Jared shook his head. “Someone from work perhaps?”
“Maybe. Guess I’ll find out when I go back next week.”
“I’m sorry?”
She heard the catch in his voice. “Just a visit, if you can drive me. I thought it might jog my memory. I know I can’t go back until the doctors say so, but a visit won’t hurt.”
“Sure I’ll take you. I’m off until Wednesday. We only have the one car now, not that you can drive anyway, but we’ll figure something out for when you do go back.”
Niamh nodded. “OK, thank you.” She drummed her fingers on the door handle. “I just get the feeling he’s important somehow.” She caught the anguished look he shot her and turned away.
Now would probably be a good time to shut up. Having an affair would be wrong. Oh, don’t let that be true, Lord. Don’t let me be the kind of woman who’d cheat on her husband. Not even one I don’t remember ever having.
Jared pulled up at the lights. “Let’s just go over to Liam’s. He said he’d get his photos out. See what you remember.”
****
Niamh sat with a pile of photos on her lap. She laughed. “Pi was so unimpressed. He wouldn’t let me make him coffee for a long time after that.”
Liam grinned. “He never let his guard down around you again. Not that I blame him. But that was the last time you got one over on him.” He winked at Jared. “Now a-days, Patrick is far too sensible for anything like practical jokes. I think Niamh cured him of it.”
“Shame it didn’t work for her.” Jared sipped his coffee and put the cup down. “For someone as staid and boring as a barrister…”
Niamh threw a cushion at him, smiling as he caught it. “That’s senior prosecutor, apparently, and we’re not staid and boring, not even the judges.”
He laughed and tossed it back. “No? Hmmm, that’s not what you said last week. I’m sure you said you were.”
Niamh rolled her eyes, hugging the cushion as she caught it. “I could have won a gold medal in wrestling last week for all I remember.”
Jared smirked. “You won a wrestling medal last week? Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have been there with bells on.”
“Now that I have to see.”
“OK, you’re on. You wrestle and I’ll wear bells. Liam can take the photos.”
Liam shook his head. “You two are incorrigible.”
Niamh put the photos down on the table and picked up her tea. “That’s a good thing, right?”
Jared nodded. “It’d better be, or Liam’s in trouble, no matter if he is your twin.”
Liam laughed. “That a promise or a threat, Jared? Actually, neither of you have been this relaxed around each other since the fire.”
“Why not?” Niamh glanced at him, puzzled. Were we having problems? Is that why I don’t remember anything?
Jared cleared his throat and picked up his cup.
She twisted her head from one to the other, catching the anguished look that passed between the two men. “Will someone please tell me what I’m missing here?”
Jared finally spoke. “Every marriage goes through a rough patch, which is what we were doing. Actually you spent a couple of nights here, until Liam convinced you to come home and try to work things out.”
“Had we worked things out?”
Jared stared at his cup. “Kind of. I’ll be right back.” He stood and hurried from the room.
Niamh sat there dumbstruck. She’d done it again. She said the tiniest thing and sent Jared bolting from the room. Almost as if she’d pulled the pin on a grenade and stood holding it. Did his reaction have anything to do with this other man she kept seeing in her dreams? Perhaps her brother knew.
“Li, was I seeing someone else?”
Liam choked on his coffee, spraying it over his lap. “What?” He pulled a tissue from the box on the table and blotted up the mess. “What makes you ask that?”
“No reason. I’m just asking.”
He shook his head. “You and Jared were having problems, yes, but neither of you would ever consider cheating on the other.”
“Only I keep dreaming about this other man and…” She broke off as Jared came back into the room. “Are you OK?”
He nodded. “Yeah. The timer’s just gone on the oven.”
“And there’s Jacqui,” Liam added, rising as the doorbell rang. “Come through to the kitchen in a few.”
“Can I take the photos home? I’d like to finish looking at them.”
Liam smiled. “Sure. I’ll go let Jacqui in
and dish up.”
Niamh waited until he’d left before saying anything. “Whatever happened between us, Jared, I don’t remember any more than I remember you. Can we, I mean, is there a way to fix it?”
“It’s all right. We’ll work it out.”
She held his gaze for a moment and then nodded. What other secrets is he hiding? What caused the problems between us and had we really worked them out?
8
Sunday morning dawned bright and sunny, but cold. Jared sat next to Niamh in church, in their usual seats. She appeared comfortable here, albeit seemed overwhelmed by the number of people who knew things about her, which she didn’t remember. Her fingers constantly moved over the cross she wore—the one he’d bought her as a wedding present. Not that she’d asked where it came from.
Her wedding ring hung next to it. At least she was still wearing it. That was some consolation. He’d tucked the engagement ring away in his cufflink box until she wanted it back. If she wanted it back.
As the service finished, Niamh picked up her crutches and turned to him. “It really hasn’t changed much. Aside from the addition of the drums and two new pastors.”
Jared smiled. “Pastor Jack has been here about eight years now. Pastor Bruce about seven and a half. We were married by the previous minister, Steve Austin.”
Niamh giggled. “I remember him. The bionic pastor we used to call him.”
Jared looked at her, barely able to contain his own grin. “Yes, the church as a whole referred to him like that—but never to his face. Although I’m sure he knew. Let me go and catch Daphne, one of the registrars, and see if we can see the marriage register.”
“Sure.”
He rose and headed down the aisle, catching Daphne just as she left her seat. He glanced behind to make sure Niamh was following. It wasn’t simply that she thought their marriage was fake; he wanted to show her that they were married in a church. She was making slow progress along the crowded aisle on her crutches. He shot her a smile and then turned to Daphne. “Hi, I was wondering if you could do us a favor.”
