by Anna Bell
‘But, Mum what do you mean you haven’t heard from me in weeks? I saw you on Friday.’
‘Jessica, sober up and call your father later. I’m going out.’
For the second time in five minutes Jessica heard the dial tone ring through her ears before she was finished with the conversation. She hung up the phone and stared at it. What was her mother talking about? She’d had dinner with both her parents on Friday night. They’d had a quick bite to eat before catching the latest West End musical.
Her mother had never told her off for drinking. Coming to think of it, Jessica couldn’t remember her mum speaking to her like that since she was fifteen and she’d stained the white enamel of her mum’s en-suite bath whilst dying her hair red.
Jessica didn’t know what to do; as far as she could tell she was out of options. Her mum didn’t want to speak to her; her boss in the UK wouldn’t take her calls; and the New York office wouldn’t let her in.
She walked slowly back to the offices of LMG Global. She wasn’t going to have another go at the receptionist, mostly because she didn’t think the security guard would let her over the threshold. She just needed some time to think, and right now the closest to anything that reminded her of home was LMG Global. Back in London, that was where she spent the majority of her waking hours.
She sat down on the edge of a concrete tree pot in the plaza in front of the skyscraper. She had hoped naively that the small tree would provide some shade from the punishing midday heat, but it didn’t. She looked around to see if there was a spot in the shade, and then she spotted him: Jake Harrington. He was sitting just as she was on a concrete tree plant, but in the shade of the building. He was eating some sort of sandwich and talking to himself. Maybe he was the crazy one, she thought. Then she noticed the little plastic extension clipped to his ear.
Jessica hated Bluetooth head accessories. She didn’t know what was wrong with holding your phone. He really was playing up to the archetypal stereotypes of bankers. Although Jessica worked with them day in, day out she’d never truly got used to them as a breed.
After a while he stopped speaking and seemed to be just eating his sandwich. Jessica had already made a complete fool out of herself anyway and she figured she had nothing to lose from going over and talking to him again.
‘Hi,’ said Jessica, standing in front of Jake.
‘I’ll get you your money. Look, I gotta go,’ he said, looking up at Jessica curiously.
Jessica’s cheeks flushed red; she hadn’t realised he’d still been on the phone. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
He smiled and pulled the clip off his ear. ‘Don’t be. Terrible habit to use my hands free out of the car. I just never seem to be able to eat without the phone ringing.’
Jessica took his smile as an invitation to sit down. She perched on the concrete and folded her arms awkwardly over her chest.
‘Your day going any better?’ he asked, with a mouth full of sandwich.
Jessica shook her head. ‘I have no idea what is going on. I feel like the CIA have taken away my identity. I phoned my office and Sasha pretended she didn’t know me. Then I phoned my mum and she started talking to me like I needed to be in rehab.’
‘Do you?’ said Jake.
‘I’m not on drugs, or anything. I’m just a little hung over. Whatever is going on, it is not substance abuse. It’s just so frustrating that no one knows me. And the conference starts tomorrow. I’ve worked so hard on the presentation, and I just don’t want to waste any more time. I need to add your findings.’
‘How do you even know about my findings?’
‘I’ve been working on it for the last few weeks and you told me about the stats you’d uncovered.’
Jessica looked at Jake for any hint of recognition of what she was talking about, but his face was blank. She exhaled loudly in exasperation. ‘We’ve been talking about it since I went to Shanghai. You contacted me about the article I’d written about the growth of green energy and you thought you could pitch ethical investments to some of your clients.’
Jake nodded. ‘Yeah, I did do that, but you’re describing what Patricia has been up to and conversations I’ve had with her.’
‘But I went to that conference, not Patricia.’
‘Is this some kind of industrial espionage? Do you work for Hunt Associates and you’re trying to poach our talk so they can deliver it first? Trying to get me to spill the beans?’
Jessica could feel Jake studying her face. She was sucking on her cheeks to stop herself from exploding.
‘Of course not. I wouldn’t work for those cowboys in a million years!’
‘Well, that’s what a spy would say, wouldn’t they? If they were trying to earn my trust.’
‘Right, and if I was a spy, why wouldn’t I just do the research myself? Why would I try and get to you? And I bet I could tell you more about the whole developing Chinese market and renewable energy and your deal with SinoDam than you could imagine.’
Jake laughed at her. ‘Well you sure are feisty.’
Jessica felt her spine tingle. She didn’t like people taking the piss out of her, and she didn’t like being patronised. If things had been going to plan she knew he’d have been kissing her arse. After all, she was about to land him the biggest deal he’d ever been part of. Not to mention the big fat end-of-year bonus it would mean for them all.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m poking fun at you. I can see that you’re having a rough time.’
Jessica sighed loudly. Rough time: that was an understatement. She could feel the tears welling up behind her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep them at bay.
‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Tell me what’s going on?’
‘I’m sorry, Jessica. After I left you in the lobby I looked you up on the company intranet and there were no Jessica Andersons. There was a Carla Anderson, and a Rod or Rob Anderson. But no Jessica.’
Jessica was no longer surprised at the news.
‘Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?’ asked Jake.
Every time he looked at her, Jessica felt him looking into her eyes, as if he was searching for clues. It made Jessica get goose bumps all over her arms; she thought it had to be embarrassment for her near-naked state.
‘What, I banged my head and created a whole new life for myself?’ Jessica laughed out loud and Jake raised an eyebrow in surprise.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just so frustrating when no one will tell me what’s going on.’
‘Is there anyone you want me to call for you?’
‘No. I can’t handle people not taking my calls anymore.’
‘Well, what about your stuff, is it at a hotel?’
‘No, I don’t have anything. I woke up this morning in an apartment, and when I went back to my hotel they had no idea who I was.’
‘Whose apartment was it?’
‘I don’t know: I left while whoever's it was, was in the shower.’
Jessica blushed. Despite not remembering who she spent the night with, or what had happened, it made her feel dirty and ashamed. She hadn’t had a one-night stand since she was at university.
‘Well, why don’t you go back there? Maybe they’ll have the answers.’
‘Maybe,’ said Jessica. The thought of going back to the unknown terrified her. She hadn’t thought of returning there, but it did make sense. That was the place that everything had started to go wrong.
‘Look, I gotta get back to work,’ said Jake as he stood up. ‘Here’s my card. My cell number is on there. Let me know if you need anything, ok?’
‘Ok,’ said Jessica, nodding weakly. She took the card and didn’t really know what to do with it. She knew he was only giving it to her to be polite.
She sat there watching him enter the building. She could feel the card getting damp with sweat in her hands. She knew she had to go to the apartment and slowly stood up. She needed to psyche herself up, as she was dreading what she’d find there.
Chapter 6 - Jess Burns
Jess threw a $20 bill at the driver and got out of the cab as quickly as she could. She looked up at the familiar sight of her red-brick apartment building with the crisscross of the fire escape hanging precariously off the side. It always made Jess feel like she lived in a movie when she reached the apartment block. It was somewhere she always felt Carrie Bradshaw should live, not little old her. But today it was like she was seeing it for the first time. It was comforting to know she hadn’t made this place up: that it was still here.
She climbed the concrete stairs up to the front door. Knowing she had no key she buzzed the intercom to apartment 5. Jake walked up beside her. He was taking in the apartment building, looking at it like he hadn’t believed it would exist. Jess felt a triumphant smile break out over her face. In just under a minute, her husband would come on the intercom, he’d set Jake straight, and then Jake and LMG Global would disappear into the dim and distant memory of her past.
‘Hello?’ said a male voice. The intercom made the voice sound tinny and fuzzy, but Jess knew instantly that it was not the voice of her husband.
‘Where’s Benjy?’
‘You’ve got the wrong apartment,’ said the voice.
‘Um, no, this is my apartment: number 5. What are you doing in it?’ Her voice had become high pitched and squeaky, like she no longer had control over it.
Jess heard the white noise of the intercom stop. Whoever had been speaking had hung up. She daren’t look at Jake. She didn’t want him to pull any ‘I told you so’ faces.
Jess buzzed the intercom furiously. It was only then she noticed the name next to number 5 was Hobson. She traced her finger over it, as if to wipe it away and reveal her name there. Where was Burns and the little smiley face that Jess had drawn when they’d first moved in?
Before the unknown man could pick up the intercom again, the main door swung open. The old man leaving the apartment held the door open for Jess and Jake.
‘Thanks, Mr Taylor,’ said Jess. The old man bowed his head but didn’t show any signs of recognising Jess.
Jess didn’t wait to take the elevator. She ran up the three flights of stairs, and hammered on the door when she reached it.
The door opened slowly and a grungy looking guy in his early twenties was standing there. Dressed in boxers and an old band T-shirt he looked like he’d just crawled out of bed.
‘Where’s Benjy?’ Jess flew into the room, not waiting to be asked inside. She frantically opened the bedroom door to see if she could see him: it was empty. She opened the bathroom door: empty. Coming back to the main living room, she looked at the grungy guy and Jake, who was hovering in the doorway looking embarrassed.
She turned slowly on her heels and did a slow pan around her apartment, or at least the shell of her apartment, as none of her stuff was there. There was a firm green leather couch where her big comfy L-shaped sofa usually was. And her wall of books was filled with vinyl and CDs. There were no photos, no homely features. There was no TV on the wall, just a large projector screen hanging in its place. This was well and truly a bachelor pad, and it didn’t belong to Benjy or Jess.
‘Look lady, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ve been here about six months.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Jess knew it sounded pathetic, but she didn’t know what else to say. She gave the apartment another once over. She was desperately trying to see something she recognised, but there was nothing she could latch on to.
She brushed passed Jake without looking at him, walking out of the apartment and back down the stairs. She heard Jake apologise for the intrusion and then he followed her downstairs.
Her head was spinning as she tried to make sense of it all. First Benjy’s cell phone number wasn’t working, and now someone else was living in her apartment. She wondered if she’d hit her head when she’d been drinking, but surely she would have forgotten her life after a head trauma? She could remember her life perfectly, and remember right up until last night; it was just as if everything around her had changed.
They got out on to the street and stood in silence for a couple of moments. Jess looked at the tree-lined street, which would have usually felt comfortable and homely, yet today the familiarity unnerved her.
Jess was relieved that there was no gloating from Jake. She didn’t think she’d be able to handle that. She was clearly on the verge of a massive break down. But Jake was standing there looking at his toes, not rushing her, just letting her be.
She didn’t know what to do next. She felt sick: not from the hangover, but from the adrenaline that had pumped round her veins when she’d barged into the apartment.
She looked up and saw the pay phone at the end of the street. ‘Have you got any change?’
Jake followed her gaze to the pay phone and sighed.
‘I promise, this will only take a minute.’
He pulled out his wallet and went through his cards. He found what he was looking for and handed her a calling card.
‘Are you sure?’ said Jess looking at it. She didn’t feel she knew him well enough to take the card.
‘If it means getting you back to the office any quicker, then sure, use away.’
‘Thanks.’
Jess walked to the phone, and followed the instructions on the card. She tapped in the only other number she knew off by heart, other than Benjy's.
‘Hello, 345665’.
‘Mum, it’s me.’
‘Jessica, darling. Ah, me and your father had been talking about you today. How are you getting on, pet?’
Jess was shocked. If phoning home got a reaction like this every time, then she would have spoken to her mum a lot more often.
She tried to remember when they’d last spoken. It would have to have been a month, or maybe two, ago. Much easier to exchange emails: those were cold by their nature. It was easier that way to pretend that her mother sounded cold because of the medium rather than face the facts that she was being cold. But this time, her mother sounded different. She sounded pleased to hear from her, and that never happened.
‘I’m fine. Sorry it has been so long.’
‘Don’t be silly. We didn’t expect you to call when you were on your little trip.’
Jess bit her lip. Her little trip? What did that mean? Surely whoever was fixing up this joke couldn’t have foreseen she’d call her mother, of all people.
‘Me and your father had a wonderful time on Friday night, absolutely wonderful. Although it was naughty of you to pay. So how’s the deal going? Have you closed it yet?’
‘Not yet,’ said Jess. This bloody deal. And what was that about seeing her parents? She hadn’t seen them since the Christmas before last, and that had been such a disaster she’d been avoiding making another visit. ‘Something weird’s going on, Mum, with my memory.’
‘Be the jet lag pet, always gets me. Never know what day or time it is. You’ll be right as rain tomorrow. In the mean time have some chamomile tea.’
Jess smiled. At least her mum was consistent. She always swore blind that chamomile tea cured almost anything. From period pain to insomnia: chamomile tea had been forced on Jess throughout her teenage years. Although the mere thought of it now was turning her stomach.
‘I’d better run, I’ve got scones in the oven for WI later. I don’t want them to burn or else Lady Fontwell will be complaining.’
‘Speak soon then,’ said Jess. She wanted to scream at her mum and ask her what the hell was going on. Her mum would no doubt just accuse her of being on some drinking or drugs bender. She didn’t know why her mum always thought she was on drugs; Jess assumed that it was because Benjy was in a band.
‘Will do, and good luck with the conference.’
Jess replaced the receiver. Even her own mother knew about the precious deal. She stood there for a minute, not moving. She was out of options. She couldn’t get hold of Benjy; she had no idea where she lived; her parents backed up crazy Jake’s story. Unless someone jumpe
d out with an oversized video camera pretty soon then this was her life. Whatever she thought her life was – it wasn’t. Something had happened to her in the bar last night, she must have hit her head or something.
She walked back over to Jake.
Jake was rubbing his temples. It had obviously been an odd start to the week for him, too. She hadn’t really stopped to think of the impact this was having on him. He’d just gone to pick someone up from the hotel and deliver them to the office, and instead he’d got a mystery tour around lower Manhattan. Jess felt a pang of guilt that she’d dragged him round and she suddenly felt grateful that he’d been so polite about it all.
‘You ok?’ he asked, noticing her approach.
‘Not really. Everyone seems to think I’m the person you say I am. But I think I live up there, and I’m married.’ She looked up at her window. ‘But the only person who believes that is me. I’ve got no apartment and no husband to back it up.’
‘Maybe you’re having one of those regression episodes. You know, you lived in New York in your former life, and you lived in that apartment,’ said Jake with a hint of a smile.
Jess tried to smile back, but it wasn’t funny. His suggestion sounded ludicrous, but it was on a par with her and her delusions. Maybe she should have herself committed. But she honestly didn’t think she was crazy. But then she wondered if that was exactly what she would think if she was.
‘I’m sorry, I’m not being helpful,’ said Jake. His cheeks had gone a bit pinker.
Jess hadn’t really noticed before but he had dimples, just like her Cabbage Patch Kid she’d had when she was little. You could only see them when he smiled, and there hadn’t been much of that going on so far that morning.
‘It’s not your fault I’m completely insane.’
‘Maybe it is just the cabin fever.’
‘Yes, the jet lag,’ she laughed. Bloody jet lag. If only she could have remembered getting on a god-damn plane.
