Remember Our Song (5 page)

Jeremy saw where I was looking and smiled, “Don’t worry,” he said.  “See that thing attached to the handrail?”

I nodded.

“It folds out into a seat.  You just press a button and it will take you right to the top like a rollercoaster.  Want to try it?”

“Yeah, thanks.  I’d like to see the room I’ll be staying in.”

I crutched my way over to the bottom of the staircase and watched as Jeremy flipped out a small cushioned seat and made a little ‘voila’ gesture.  I sat down and put my feet on the small attached platform with a certain amount of apprehension.

“Now what?”

“There’s a little control panel on the side of the seat, left side, yeah there.  It’s simple enough, two buttons, up and down.  Go on, try it.”

I pressed one button and almost snatched my hand back when the seat sprang into life.  After the initial jolt it was a smooth and slow ride, thankfully.  Jeremy kept pace with me easily, strolling up the stairs alongside the mechanical chair.

“Recognize anything?” he asked.

“No.  It’s all very nice, though.”

Jeremy stared at his feet for a few steps and sighed before looking back at me with a strained smile.

“That’s OK, it’ll come back,” he said, though I wasn’t sure if he was directing the comment to me or himself.

The seat came to a stop with a small bump and I struggled to my feet, ignoring the hand Jeremy held out and setting my crutches again.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to help, but I need to do all this myself, OK?”

“Sure, of course, forgive the occasional slip up though, I… well, the last thing I want is for you to go through all that and then stumble down the stairs on your first day home, you know?  The Dayton room, your room, is just along here.”

Jeremy turned left at the top of the stairs and led me along a hallway where most of the doors were closed until we came to one that was open.  Lee was in there, pulling sheets off furniture and opening curtains.  I spotted my bag on the ground beside a large bed, and noted with a certain amount of relief that the mattress was quite high, it would be easy to get in and out of without having to stand up from a low position.

“A drink Ma… Beatrice?” Lee asked.

“Oh, yes please.  What have you got?”

“Everything, last I checked.”

“Oh… some orange juice?”

“With a dash of lemonade, as usual?”

“I’ve never… oh.  Well, yes, I’ll try it.”

“Sir?”

“Same for me please, Lee.”

“Will you have it here, downstairs, outside…?”

“Downstairs I think.”

“I’ll have mine here,” I said.  “I’d like to be left alone for a bit if you don’t mind.  This is a lot to take in.”

“OK, no problem.  My office for mine then,” Jeremy said and nodded to Lee, who set off to prepare the drinks.  “Lunch is about an hour away, I’ll come back then, alright?”

“OK,” I said, eyeing up the bed.

Before I could protest, Jeremy took two steps in my direction and wrapped me up in a sheepish hug, like he thought he might accidentally break me, and then let go, stepping back.  I didn’t know where to look, my eyes darting around from my feet to him to the window and back again.

“It really is good to have you back home.  I thought… well, never mind.  It’s just good to see you here again.  I love you.”

Jeremy walked to the door and pulled it shut behind him with a click.  I went straight to the bed and managed to get on top of it with a struggle, finally managing to get comfortable.  All manner of thoughts fought for a fair hearing in my mind before Doctor Jensen’s words came back to me and I wondered exactly what life decisions I had made for myself in the last eight years.  What had made me give up my independence, the thing I held most dear?  I covered my face with my hands, it was all too much.

“Oh my God.”

Chapter 5

Jeremy’s house was like the most polite and most comfortably furnished prison imaginable, my every need was taken care of in a frustratingly efficient manner. Lee, or another member of the staff, was always suspiciously busy near the stairs until I demonstrated that I really did know how to work the chair-on-rails.

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders every time I went to see Ellie for my physical therapy, where I was able drown out the voices in my head competing for attention with grunts of effort as she made me feel more exhausted than I could ever remember.  Doctor Jensen popped in from time to time to say hello too and somehow it felt comforting, like these two were the ones I knew best.

“How long until I can ditch the crutches?”

“You can ditch them right now if you think you can have a functional life army-crawling everywhere.  Otherwise, It’s going to be at least another month,” Ellie said.

“Your leg was pretty well smashed, you’re making great progress on that front so don’t get ahead of yourself.  How’s the memory?”  Doctor Jensen asked.

“Not much in the way of progress there.  It’s weird, I can’t remember a thing but sometimes I’ll eat something I don’t think I’ve ever eaten before and it tastes familiar.  I just can’t place where I ate it before.  Oh, and orange juice with lemonade is
great
.  That’s one life decision I got right.”

“Haha, well like I said, don’t
force it, keep the stress down.  Good to see you, anyway, I should probably make sure my current patients are still alive, might see you next time.  Bye, Ellie.”

“See ya, Brad,” Ellie said.  “And you, missy.  Hit the showers, Prince Charming in his carriage will be here to pick you up soon.”

“Ugh.  I wish I could just get a taxi.  I feel like I’m being watched over like a little kid or something, I hate it.”

“Well, at least he notices you,” Ellie’s eyes darted to Doctor Jensen, still visible through the glass doors of the physical therapy room as he began ascending some stairs.

Showering was as difficult as ever, compounded by the fatigue from my session with Ellie, but I made it through like I always did.  With the assistance of my ever-present crutches I made it back to the foyer of the hospital under my own steam, backpack on my back, to see Jeremy standing there reading a noticeboard as he waited for me.

“Good session?”

“Yep, feeling pretty tired after that one, think I’ll need a power nap.”

“Want to grab some lunch first?  There’s a nice café on the way home that we’ve been to a few times.”

“I’m not sure, I could definitely do with a rest.”

“Well, I mean, you’ve got to eat anyway.  Might as well be at the café.”

“I guess so.  OK then.”

As always, Stan had the car parked directly in front of the hospital and was waiting for us with the rear door open.  I scanned the few people milling around and noted the two men of, shall we say, above average physique who were paying suspiciously close attention to us and the other people who were coming and going.

It was a scary thing to feel like bodyguards were needed.  I didn’t want another panic attach like the first time I exited the hospital, but in a way it was really nerve wracking to have these people shadowing our every move whenever we left the house.  They probably had
guns
too.  I shuddered and entered the car as quickly as I could.  Jeremy followed me in and Stan closed the door, circling around to hop back in the driver’s seat.

“To Holt’s, please Stan.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stan pulled out and was soon driving along with his usual professionalism, making no indication that he could hear anything other than comments directed specifically to him.

“Holt’s?  You own it?”

“No, it’s owned by some Danish guy.  You spotted it one day when we were just driving past, and we remembered to come back.  We actually played a trick on the guy, brought in some fake legal documents saying my corporation had trademarked the ‘Holt’ name and that he’d have to ‘cease and desist’.  Even had one of my design guys come up with a new name and logo for him, saying he could henceforth call his business ‘Hola’ instead.”

“That doesn’t sound very funny, to give somebody a scare like that.  It’s probably his livelihood, what if he had a family to feed?”

“Uh… well, he does have a family to feed.  He laughed when we finally cracked and couldn’t keep the charade up anymore.  I… uh, well I guess you had to be there.  Uh… which you were.  Never mind.”

Jeremy fell silent, eyes downcast towards his lap where he was wringing his hands.  How could he have thought it was a good idea to tell me about that ‘joke’?  To me it just sounded like an abuse of power.  What is your average everyday person supposed to do when a guy with infinitely deep pockets and an army of lawyers tells them their business is screwed?  I refused to believe I had taken any part in it at all.

Stan pulled up outside the café and let us out while he went in search of a parking space, but before I could even get my feet on to the pavement a man with a camera rushed up and began taking pictures and shouting things.  I stared down the barrel of the lens like it was a gun and felt a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead as my heart rate picked up.  I thought, after the first time I left the hospital, that I’d be ready for something like this again, but I was so tired from the therapy that I actually felt on the verge of fainting.

“This way, Beatrice!  Mr. Holt, can I get a picture with your arm around her?  Any on-going fear of helicopters?  Any-oof!”

One of the men I’d noted outside the hospital grabbed the man by the neck and forcibly removed the paparazzo from the side of the car, they must have been following behind us in their own vehicle.  Jeremy leapt out from his side and began berating the second bodyguard as I shrunk back into my seat and closed my eyes, trying to block everything out as all the shouting rang in my ears.

“Where in the hell were you?  You were supposed to get here first and make sure everything was clear, look what’s happened!”

“Sorry sir, we…”

I couldn’t hear his excuse due to the booming of my heart in my ears, and whatever it was, Jeremy didn’t seem happy with it, reeling off a laundry list of curse words and instructions before dipping his head down to look in on me.

“Are you OK?”

“I’ll… live.”

I hated the weakness in my voice, hated being in this position… the position
he
had put me in by insisting on coming here, hell, by crashing that helicopter too.  I clenched my teeth against a few choice words of my own as another hot flush seemed to signal the passing of whatever danger might be possible from the escalation of a panic attack.

“Do you still want to have some lunch here?”

“No.  Christ, no.  I just want to leave.”

“OK.  Stan, we need to go home.”

Jeremy closed the door and hopped back in on his side, I buckled up and did my best to restrain myself from saying anything antagonistic.  He was obviously upset at the security breach, deep down I knew it wasn’t his fault, but I could hardly even look at him.

I wracked my brains trying to remember how I could have let myself get involved with a man like Jeremy.  People like him who rolled up in their fancy cars with expensive clothes and expected the red carpet to be rolled out for them.  How could I let myself get into a relationship where my partner,
husband
, brought up with a silver spoon in his mouth, couldn’t possibly see me as an equal?  Where had my sense of self-worth gone that I had let myself become… what exactly?  Arm candy?

Jeremy reached out and touched my arm, I shrunk away without thinking.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m
fine
,” I said.

Lunch, back at Jeremy’s house, was tense to say the least.  All I wanted to do was go to my room, the so-called ‘Dayton room’, and shut the door on the whole world but Jeremy kept on trying to strike up a conversation.  My head was pounding by the time I managed to put away a small portion.

“I’m gonna go have a nap now,” I said.

“About that.  I was wondering if you wanted to maybe have a rest in a different room today?”

“What for?  What room?”

“Well… our room.”

“I don’t think that’s…”

“At least have a look.  It’s just a room, I’m not going to be, you know, having a nap at the same time or anything.  It’s just a room.”

I tried to think of a good reason to avoid it, but couldn’t and so consented.  Like he said, it was just a room, but something was nagging me at the back of my head as I ascended the stairs, Jeremy walking up beside me.  It turned out that his… our… room was on the same floor as the ‘Dayton room’, but at the end of the hall after turning right instead of left at the top of the stairs.

Jeremy opened the door and stood aside, letting me hobble through on my crutches.  I looked around the room hoping for some kind of spark to light up the dark areas of my brain, but didn’t see anything that looked familiar.  On one wall was a large photo, but I couldn’t see what it was of due to glare from the large bay window.

Of course.  It was a wedding picture showing a bride and groom I didn’t know standing there with huge smiles on their big day.  The bride looked like me, and the groom looked like Jeremy.  I turned away from it quickly before Jeremy could make some comment, only to find him standing close behind me, looking up at it already.