Never forget you, p.17
Never Forget You, page 17
He lay in the darkness, feeling her heat seep through the duvet, hearing the soft rasp of her breathing. ‘Sorry …’ she finally whispered, and it was that one tiny, scratchy word that broke him.
She didn’t need to be sorry about anything. If there was anyone who was sorry, it was him. Because he had the power to solve her problem. He could give her that one thing she’d asked for, no, practically prayed for. He could give her one fact. At the very least, he could give her a name. One that actually belonged to her.
The doctor had said it might upset her, make her emotional state worse, but what was this if it wasn’t ‘upset’? More than that, if this wasn’t ‘downright heartbroken’? As far as he could tell, not knowing was causing way more damage.
Now the idea to say what he’d been holding back ever since he’d seen her bee necklace in the garden had planted itself in his brain, his heart began to hammer. There was no going back if he did this.
She let out a long, slow breath, but he could tell she was still aching inside, felt the quiver of her ribcage at the point between breath leaving her lungs and new air being sucked in again.
That was all it took.
‘When I first met you outside the café, I thought you were someone I’d met before.’
Alice went very still. ‘You did? I don’t … I don’t remember much about that. Pieces of that morning are all a bit blurry. The first thing I remember really clearly after leaving the café is sitting in an armchair by the fire at the B&B.’
He heaved in a breath and carried on. There was no point going only halfway. ‘But then I thought I must be wrong because you didn’t recognise me, and other things didn’t add up either. Your face was similar, but your hair is very different. Even your voice isn’t the same as the woman I remembered.’
‘This was someone you knew? A friend?’
He shook his head and smelled the lemon of her shampoo as his jaw rubbed against her hair. ‘Not quite.’
‘If it was me, would I have known you too? Would I have remembered you?’
He let out a heavy sigh. ‘I think so.’ He hoped so, even if it would have meant she’d taken one look at him, walked away and never given him the time of day.
She was quiet for a few moments, and then she said, ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because …’ Oh, Lord. Here goes. ‘Because I’m starting to think I was right. I’m starting to think we met before.’
Up until that moment, it was as if they’d been curled up in a little cocoon of darkness and warmth, but Alice shattered it completely by sitting bolt upright, tearing herself out of his arms and turning the light on. He blinked in pain as an imprint from the harsh little reading light above the bed seared itself into his retina.
‘What? How …?’ She looked as if she was about to cry again. This was not the way he’d thought this would go. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this before?!’
Chapter Thirty-Three
Six months before the wedding.
I ARRIVED FAR too early at my parents’ house and fudged an excuse about Justin not feeling well to explain his absence. Mum and Dad bought it, I think. The only person who might have looked a little deeper was Lo, but when she got home from work, she barely glanced at me, let alone spoke to me. It cut like a knife, but at least she wouldn’t notice something was off.
I should have been enjoying one of our favourite family nights of the year, but I couldn’t wait for the evening to be over so I could hide in my bedroom and have a chance to process what had happened. Had Justin really admitted to not using the recorded track for his performance on purpose? I played our conversation back in my head in crystal-clear detail.
He had. He’d definitely said it.
The knowledge cut me to the core, but I found it hard to verbalise exactly why that was. It was … It was as if I’d had a picture of Justin in my head, one that I had believed was a faithful and true representation of who he was, the man I loved, and somehow that picture didn’t fit the person I’d had that conversation with. That scared me.
While we were at the Chinese restaurant, I could feel my phone vibrating every couple of minutes. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I excused myself and went to the ladies’, where I fished my phone out of my bag. There were six missed calls from Justin and fourteen unread messages. The latest read: Angel, please come back home. We need to talk about this.
I agreed with him. We did need to talk. But not yet. Justin was much better at coming up with logical reasons why he was right than I was. I needed more time. Not only to work out how I felt, but how to express it clearly. There was also a second reason that was fairly obvious. It’s Dad’s birthday dinner, I messaged back. I can’t talk right now.
A voicemail arrived as I was washing my hands. He wanted me to come home. He loved me. He wanted to talk about this and work it out. It went on and on and on.
I’ve asked Mum if I can stay over tonight, I replied. We could both do with cooling off a little.
He texted back instantly, saying that he understood completely but also asking if he could come round the following morning.
I don’t know. I will talk to you soon, I promise, but could you stop messaging and calling for now? As I read the words back, I realised it might sound a bit sharp, so I added, Sorry. Not trying to be funny. I just need time to get things straight in my own head.
Okay, the reply came, and then my phone was blissfully silent. I closed my eyes, let out a breath, and went to re-join my family.
By the time we got home just after ten, I was ready for bed. I changed into a nightshirt I found in my chest of drawers. It had been one of my favourites, old and soft, with a stupid slogan on the front. It had hardly screamed ‘sophisticated new life’, so I’d left it behind when I’d moved to Justin’s. It was just what I needed at that moment, a bit of comfort in the form of a misshapen bit of cotton jersey.
I was just about to shuffle down in my single bed and tuck the duvet under my chin when I heard a soft knock at the door. ‘Lil?’
‘Yeah?’ I whispered back.
Lo’s head appeared around the door. ‘Want to talk?’ Her manner was still frosty, but there was genuine concern in her eyes.
I so wanted to say yes, to pat the bed so she’d come and sit at the end, as she always used to do when we’d had a good gossiping session. We’d both been too stubborn to pick up the phone to make the first move since our falling-out almost four weeks ago, but it was time to make amends. ‘I’d like to put that stupid fight behind us,’ I said.
‘Me too.’ She slid inside and perched on the end of my bed. ‘So, what’s up? You weren’t yourself tonight.’
Unsure of what to say, I made a face, rehearsed and then discarded a few opening phrases in my head.
She looked me in the eye. ‘Is it Justin?’
I swallowed. ‘I … I overreacted to something he did. We had a fight.’
‘You overreacted?’ Lo gave me a suspicious look. ‘Are you sure that’s what happened? You can tell me, Lil. I—’
‘Yes, I’m sure that’s what happened,’ I snapped back. Even though she’d hit the nail on the head, I didn’t like the fact she’d been so quick to think badly of Justin. She hadn’t even heard the whole story.
Lo stared at me for a couple of seconds, her expression pinched. ‘You’re lying.’
‘I’m not!’
‘Yes. You are.’ She pushed herself up from the end of the bed. ‘If you’re not going to have an honest conversation with me, there’s no point.’
‘Lo!’ I called out in a hoarse whisper as she headed for the door, but she didn’t stop, didn’t turn round. She just closed the door firmly behind her. Seconds later, I heard her bedroom door shut. I sank back onto my pillows and stopped trying to hold back the tears.
I couldn’t deal with both her and Justin tonight. My sister would just have to wait until I’d untangled the mess I’d made of the other important relationship in my life.
I crept past my parents’ bedroom, avoiding the creaky floorboard at the top of the stairs, then tiptoed down them and made my way into the kitchen. The overhead light would have been too jarring, so I turned on the strip light under the top cabinets and pressed the button on the kettle. I’d slept for about two hours before waking up, and the events of the previous day played in my head on a loop as I sat there, blearily sipping herbal tea.
About five minutes later, the kitchen door opened, and Mum peered round it. ‘Oh, it’s you! Can’t sleep?’
I shook my head.
She pulled a mug from the cupboard and set about making herself a hot drink, then sat down opposite me, cupping it in her hands. ‘Justin’s not really ill, is he?’
‘How did you …?’
She gave me a knowing smile. ‘I could tell you were stressed all evening, and your phone was going off almost constantly, and you normally jump to attention every time Justin texts or calls, yet you didn’t once pick it up and look at it.’
Busted.
‘We had a fight …’ I frowned. ‘Do you think Dad noticed?
I didn’t want to ruin his night.’
Mum laughed softly. ‘You could have worn a flashing neon sign broadcasting the news, and your dad still might only have a vague inkling something was up.’
I laughed too, just a little bit. It felt good.
‘You had a fight?’
I sighed. ‘Well, not even really a fight.’ I’d been the one doing all the shouting, after all. ‘More of a difference of opinion over how something happened.’
‘Relationships aren’t easy,’ Mum said, looking back at me with a mixture of love and concern clouding her eyes. ‘But I can tell he adores you.’
I nodded. I knew he did.
‘No person is perfect. I know it can all seem like a fairy tale in the beginning, but that’s not how real life – real love – works. Me and your dad have had our share of ups and downs over the years, but you work on stuff. You pull through together.’
This was exactly how I felt, that some of the glitter had been rubbed off my fairy tale. Was I being unfair to Justin, expecting him to be perfect when I so clearly wasn’t? ‘What do you do when someone does something that really hurts you, something unexpected?’
Mum thought for a moment. ‘Did he intend to hurt you?’
‘No … He said he was trying to help me. I just … I suppose I didn’t appreciate the way he went about it.’ Hearing those words coming out of my mouth made me question my dramatic exit from the flat. Was I overreacting? Should I accept what Justin said and forgive him? Part of me wanted that more than anything but another part was stubbornly clinging to the idea that this was something important, that I shouldn’t ignore it, even though I couldn’t really put it into words.
‘I suppose what you have to ask yourself is this …’ Mum reached for the biscuit tin, took the lid off and offered me a Hobnob. ‘Is the rough so bad that you can’t put up with the smooth?’
No, I answered silently. As much as I hated this fight I’d had with Justin, I still loved him. I still wanted to be with him. And that’s what Mum was saying, wasn’t it? That sometimes, you have to compromise, you have to tuck away what you want, and think about the other person. So far, all I’d done since storming out of the flat was think about myself.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Now.
THEY’D MET BEFORE?
Alice studied Ben’s expression for a hint that she’d misheard him or that he was telling a horrendously inappropriate joke, but she saw the truth in his eyes. ‘No,’ she said, although she had no idea what question she was answering. Keeping her gaze locked on him, she scrabbled out from under the covers and away from the bed. She didn’t want this. She wanted him to take it back.
Because for the first time since she’d found herself at that bus stop in Invergarrig, she’d felt safe. All the whirling thoughts and questions inside her head had come to rest. And now it felt as if her whole world had been upended again. That Ben was the one who’d done it ripped her heart in two.
‘Who are you?’ she practically shouted at him. For the first time in his presence, she felt scared. She was in a hotel room with a stranger, a stranger who’d been lying to her.
‘If you just let me—’ He pushed himself up onto all fours, made a move to come closer. Alice backed away, clutching her arms around herself until she was prevented from going any further by the wall.
He held up his hands, as if to say, Whoa. It’s okay, looking so conflicted and confused that she wavered. On one hand, her heart told her that this was still the same man who had held her gently while she’d sobbed, but on the other, alarms were going off inside her head like World War III was about to start.
‘You’ve been lying to me.’
‘I—I haven’t been lying.’ Ben’s eyes were pleading. ‘I just didn’t tell you the whole truth. I didn’t even realise it myself at first. I thought my brain was playing tricks on me.’
Alice hugged herself harder. If there was one person who knew how unreliable a person’s mind could be, it was her. Memories weren’t concrete things. They were insubstantial, malleable. Prone to error or even complete erasure.
‘I mentioned it to the doctor at the hospital and he said I should wait for the specialists at the memory unit to decide what to tell you. He wasn’t sure if it might upset you further.’
‘Then why … Why are you telling me now?’
He sat back down on the mattress heavily, ran his hands over his face and through his hair before looking back at her. ‘Because I thought not knowing was making it worse. Because … Because I couldn’t stand to see you tearing your heart out when I could do something to stop it.’ His arms fell by his side helplessly. ‘Maybe it was a mistake … Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. But I did. I can’t take it back now.’
He was right about that. While it felt as if her whole life had been razed to the ground yet again, whatever happened next would be built on the foundation of this knowledge.
‘While the doc said not to say anything to you, I told PC Wilson everything I know. I hoped it might speed up her enquiries, point her in the right direction.’
Alice’s brain began to tick away. ‘Is that why you … why you were so insistent about me staying in Invergarrig and waiting for her to finish her investigation?’
He nodded.
And the doctors in Glasgow. He’d tried to convince her not to leave before seeing them. It all made sense. She didn’t like it, but it all made sense. Her heart rate began to slow.
He shuffled off the bed, taking his duvet with him back to his sofa. With one arm, he gestured towards the empty king-size. Alice looked longingly at it. The air in the room was a couple of degrees lower than comfortable, standing-there-in-your-pyjamas temperature. She inched forward a little, keeping her eyes on Ben. ‘Tell me,’ she said. ‘Tell me how we met. Did we know each other? Were we friends?’
He shook his head. ‘We met in London five and half years ago. In July. I was only supposed to be there for a day, doing a bit of work before I headed off elsewhere. I … I bumped into you while I was sightseeing.’
‘Sightseeing? Was I a tourist? Do you know where I came from?’
‘All I know is that you lived somewhere in Greater London – south of the river, I think – and your first name.’
That information washed over her like a shower made of ice cubes. ‘You …’ Her throat was so tight she could hardly get the words out. ‘You know my name?’
He nodded, and she swore she got a glimpse of what he must have been like as a boy, in the midst of being told off, but desperate to smooth it all over, make everyone happy again. ‘Kind of … You said something about it not being your full name, or your proper name, as we said goodbye, so if there was more, I never knew it. Do you want me to tell you what it is?’
She opened her mouth and then did nothing for a few seconds. ‘I … I don’t know.’ And she really didn’t. It felt like too much. Yet another piece of knowledge to send her brain spinning out of control, even though this was exactly what she’d wished for not ten minutes ago.
She reached behind her and placed the flat of her palm against the wall, something solid to steady herself against. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘I want to know.’
Ben nodded. ‘You told me your name was Lili.’
Lili.
Such a short word. So simple. Yet it felt like a discovery on the same scale as the law of gravity or that the earth revolved around the sun. It was world-changing.
‘It’s been killing me not being able to tell you, it really has. You don’t know how many times I almost cracked. And the longer it went on, the worse I felt about it, you’ve got to believe me.’
‘I don’t have to believe you.’ But she did. Even though the echoes of air raid sirens were still ringing in her ears, deep down in her gut, she did. She knew this man. Even without the memory of ever having seen his face before Saturday morning, she knew him.
And Ben hadn’t planned to come on the train with her, had he? He hadn’t known she was going to have a meltdown on the station concourse. He couldn’t have anticipated that. There was no reason to suspect he had any ulterior motive. ‘Is there anything else you know about me? Anything at all?’
‘Not much,’ he said wearily. ‘You said music was your passion, that you played the violin.’
‘The violin?’
He nodded. ‘You were studying it somewhere in London, but I’m not sure you ever mentioned the name of the music school, or if you did, I forgot.’
Well, she could hardly blame him for that, could she?
Despite the fact she still felt a little shaky, she peeled herself from the wall and went around the other side of the bed, sat on the edge and faced him so they were only a few feet apart. ‘You said you weren’t sure at first …’
‘No,’ he said, dark eyes fixed on hers, unblinking. Honest.
‘What made you sure?’
Ben swallowed, and then his gaze drifted lower. Was he …? Was he looking at her boobs? She was about the jump up, run and lock herself in the bathroom when he reached out and pinched the thin silver chain where it sat on her clavicle and pulled it so he was holding the little bee pendant away from her chest. ‘Because I gave this to you.’
