Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts) (10 page)

It was all too much, and, worn out by the sheer difficulty of life without a memory, Kate gave up and went to sleep.

Later she received a visit from the consultant, a genial no-nonsense man who came in with Sister in attendance to ask Kate questions about mental confusion, stiffness in her neck, and persistent headache or vomiting. She told him her lack of memory and sore, aching head were her main problems, apart from various cuts and bruises
and the soreness in her chest. He told her the latter came from the restraining seat belt and would soon wear off, then assured her that the memory loss was likely to be fleeting.

‘You were lucky, my dear,' he told her. ‘You survived.'

Something Kate held on to with gratitude. To her surprise, when the nurse returned later to make enquiries about supper, Kate found she was rather hungry.

‘So you should be,' said the cheerful Michelle, smiling. ‘It's days since you ate anything.'

‘I suppose it must be. I had steak and salad—' Kate stopped dead, her eyes enormous as she stared at the nurse. ‘Odd that I can remember that, when everything else is blank.'

‘It's a start! You'll soon have full recall, don't you worry.'

Kate knew the words sprang from a desire to comfort rather than medical expertise, but she smiled gratefully at the cheerful young nurse and agreed that some soup would be a good idea.

Once her patient had been fed, and given a drink and some mild medication for her aches and pains, Michelle bade Kate goodnight.

‘I'm off now. Nurse Baker's taking over from me. See you in the morning.'

Kate lay very still, more tired from the simple task of eating and drinking than she would have believed possible. Not inclined to sleep any more, she thought about the school where she taught, and tried hard to bring it to mind. When it became obvious that this wasn't going to happen any time soon, she gave up and wondered how soon her aching head would let her read. When her par
ents came in she'd ask for some books. One thing she knew for certain, memory or not. She loved to read.

Even as the thought formulated there was a tap on the door, and a tall young man with curly black hair and dark eyes came in, brandishing a carrier bag.

‘Hi,' he said, grinning. ‘Sleeping Beauty's come back to us at last. And in case you're in any doubt I'm Adam.'

‘I know,' said Kate, surprised. Because she did know. This, beyond any doubt, was her brother.

He bent to kiss her, a suspiciously bright look about the dark eyes as he straightened. ‘Nice to have you back, half-pint.'

‘Nice to be back.' She smiled at him valiantly. ‘Even better when my memory gets back, too. Though where the family's concerned I don't seem to have too much problem.'

Adam took a radio cassette player from the bag, and with the air of a conjurer fished out several audio tapes. ‘There. Gabriel thought you might not be able to read yet, so we bought you these to listen to instead. Jane Austen and Trollope, and a couple of thrillers just published—so even you can't have read them already.'

Kate gazed at them with such pleasure weak tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes.

‘Hey,' said Adam in alarm. ‘If you cry they'll throw me out.'

‘I'm not crying. Pass me a tissue, please. And please thank Gabriel,' she added, blowing her nose.

‘She's my wife, by the way,' he said helpfully.

‘So I'm told,' Kate gave a strangled little laugh. ‘This is mad, isn't it? One minute I'm driving along in a car, the next I wake up in here without a clue who I am—or who anyone else is either. Creepy!'

‘But you did wake up, and you
are
here, Kate!
Nothing else matters. And now I must go, before they throw me out.' he added.

‘They're very stingy with their visiting time here,' she protested.

‘Making sure we don't wear you out.' Adam kissed her cheek and went to the door. ‘Anything else you fancy, just shout.'

‘How's the baby?' she asked, then gasped, her eyes locked with Adam's. ‘I know you've got a baby!'

‘Your godson Hal,' said her brother jubilantly. ‘Henry Thomas on his birth certificate. And he's just fine.'

After he'd gone Kate had a little weep, but this time partly from thanksgiving. Memories were sifting through already, she comforted herself. After all, she'd only been conscious properly for a few hours. Tomorrow she might wake up and find her memory was in full working order.

A few minutes later the night nurse came in and introduced herself as Deborah Baker. ‘But you can call me Debs,' she said, as she took Kate's temperature. ‘You've got another visitor, and as it's your fiancé Sister said he could see you. But only for a little while. You've been out for the count for days, so we can't have you getting too tired your first day back with us.'

She opened the door and stood aside for a man to enter. ‘Ten minutes,' she said firmly, and went out, closing the door behind her, unaware that she'd left her patient in a state of total shock. It was unlikely, thought Kate wildly, that she had two fiancés, even when she was in perfect health. Yet the man looking down at her was another stranger, totally different from the man who'd visited her that morning. Was she hallucinating?

‘Hello, darling,' he said, when the silence threatened to stretch to the full ten minutes he was allowed. ‘God,
you gave me a fright, Kate. I thought you'd never come back to me.'

Kate stared at him in distress. ‘I'm afraid my memory didn't turn up with me.'

He nodded. ‘I know. I saw Adam on the way in.'

‘Then you'll appreciate my problem.' She smiled apologetically. ‘I don't even know your name.'

He stopped in his tracks, as though she'd dealt him a blow, and sat down abruptly in the chair Adam had left by the bed. ‘In which case,' he said gruffly, ‘it seems rather presumptuous to kiss you. I'm Alasdair. Alasdair Drummond.'

K
ATE
studied the intelligent, handsome face, the brown curling hair and steel-bright grey eyes, and decided she liked the look of him, whoever he was. Alasdair, she thought, and nodded. ‘At least the name sounds familiar, just like Adam's did.'

‘Only I'm not your brother,' he said, his face relaxing slightly. ‘In which case I think I deserve a kiss.'

To Kate's surprise he kissed her gently, but possessively, on her mouth, which responded a little, as though it knew his well. When he sat back, looking a little happier, he took her hand in his.

‘Next time you come to my house, you stay the night,' he ordered. ‘I don't want to have to go through that again.'

Kate smiled a little. ‘Oddly enough, neither do I.'

He raised her hand to his lips, then held it tightly. ‘I'll be later tomorrow because I'm going in to Healthshield for the day.'

‘Healthshield?'

Alasdair's eyes flickered for an instant before he told her it was the name of the international pharmaceutical company he worked for. ‘I've just returned from working for them in the States. Now I'm going to head up their UK operation. You don't remember, obviously?'

‘No,' she said despondently, then gave him a troubled look. ‘And it's not the only thing I can't remember. Alasdair, there was another man in here this morning. He said he was my fiancé, too.'

‘What?'
His eyes darkened ominously. ‘Who in hell's name was it?'

‘I haven't the slightest idea,' she said unhappily. ‘I was hoping you might know.'

‘What did he look like?'

Kate thought for a moment. ‘Fairish hair, broad shoulders, and quite a bit older than you, I think.'

Alasdair's hand tightened on hers. ‘Jack bloody Spencer, by the sound of it. And he got in here by saying he was your fiancé—?' He stopped short, and she looked at him questioningly.

‘What's wrong?'

‘Only a desire to punch Mr Spencer in the nose,' he said quickly. ‘You belong to me, darling, and don't you forget it.'

‘My memory's not very reliable at the moment,' she reminded him, and stared at him, puzzled. ‘But why should this man say he's engaged to me?'

‘Probably the only way he could get in to see you.'

‘Is he a friend of mine?'

‘An acquaintance,' said Alasdair curtly. ‘Now, let's forget about him and concentrate on you. Has a doctor seen you today?'

‘Yes.' Kate repeated what she could remember of the consultant's words, a process which tired her so much Alasdair got up, his eyes anxious.

‘Darling, I must let you get some rest, or they won't let me come again.'

She tried to smile, but the effort was too great, and Alasdair bent to kiss her, this time on her cheek.

‘It's possible I might not make it tomorrow, if I'm too late,' he said huskily, ‘but I'll be here the next day, I promise, my darling. What shall I bring you?'

‘Not flowers!'

He smiled as he glanced at the massed offerings on the far side of the room. ‘Mine are among those somewhere. Shall I be boring and bring you grapes?'

‘Just bring yourself.'

The grey eyes ignited. ‘You mean that?'

Kate found she did. ‘Yes.'

He bent and kissed her mouth. ‘Much as I hate to leave you, I'd better go,' he said reluctantly. ‘You just lie there and concentrate on getting better.'

‘I'll do my best,' she promised.

After Alasdair had gone Kate was given a cup of tea, then tidied up and left to rest for half an hour before her parents arrived. When they did they looked slightly less anxious than on their first visit of the day, but this time they brought some get well cards, and read them to her, then arranged them on a shelf where she could see them.

‘This is quite a big room. Is it costing a lot?' asked Kate suddenly.

Her father wagged a reproving finger. ‘What does that matter, darling? You need peace and quiet for a while.'

‘But when can I come home?' asked Kate, visited by a sudden wave of homesickness for the house overlooking the River Wye. Then felt another rush of astonishment and stared at her parents, hardly daring to breathe.

‘What is it?' said her mother in alarm.

‘I remember where we live!'

Grinning from ear to ear, her father took her hand and squeezed it, and told his wife there was nothing to cry about. ‘You're doing splendidly, darling,' he told Kate.

‘Sorry,' said Frances, sniffing valiantly. ‘I haven't slept much lately. Which isn't surprising,' she added, with an indignant look at her husband. ‘The bed's smaller than ours, and you take up a lot of room.'

‘Are you in a hotel, then?' asked Kate.

‘No, darling. Laura and Harry Brett are putting us up—Gabriel's parents. Which means we can pop in to see you more often. They've been so kind.'

‘I need to know something,' Kate said abruptly, looking from one intent face to the other. ‘Alasdair's been in.'

‘We know, darling. He's been here a lot. He rang us late on Saturday night to see if you'd reached home.' Frances shivered. ‘He was distraught when I said you hadn't. Then Chris Morgan came with the police to tell us what had happened to you.'

Tom took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. ‘Worst moment of our lives.'

‘I'm so sorry,' said Kate unsteadily.

‘Alasdair said he wanted you to stay the night,' said Frances.

‘I'd been with him?'

‘Yes, darling,' said her mother, and smiled lovingly. ‘We're so glad, by the way.'

‘Glad?' repeated Kate.

‘Alasdair got to the hospital before we did. He told us you got engaged that night.'

Tom smiled and patted Kate's hand. ‘He asked our permission then and there, and although neither of you needs it we gave it gladly.'

Kate frowned and glanced at her left hand. ‘If I had a ring I've lost it.'

‘Alasdair hasn't had time to buy you one yet, Kate,' said her mother. ‘Your headmaster, Mr Vincent, rang before we came, by the way. Told you to get better and not worry about anything. Though your little darlings miss you, he says.'

‘That's nice,' said Kate. ‘Who's Chris Morgan, by the way?'

‘From the farm down below us. It was his fence you shot through. The car overturned as you careered down the bank into one of his fields,' said her father. ‘Chris was outside with the dogs when it happened, so he rang the police and the rescue service on his mobile while he raced over to you. We owe him a lot.'

‘What happened to the car?'

‘Total write-off, but don't worry about that.' Tom patted her hand. ‘We'll sort out another one when you're better.'

Kate groaned. ‘I've caused such a load of trouble!'

‘Why didn't you stay the night with Alasdair, darling?' asked Frances.

‘I've no idea. I'll ask when I see him next.'

 

After a restless, uneasy night Kate was glad to see a friendly face when the nurse put her face round the door early next morning.

‘Good morning. I'm to take you off the drip now, which will make life easier for you,' she was informed. ‘Fancy a trip in there to the loo for a change?'

Giving fervent assent, once the drip had been removed from her arm, Kate was helped out of bed, wincing when every bruise on her body throbbed in warning as she shuffled painfully slowly into the adjoining bathroom. It was only after she'd washed her hands and brushed her teeth that she had the courage to face herself in the mirror. Then gave a gasp of horror which brought the nurse running.

‘What is it?' she demanded, as Kate clung on to the washbasin for dear life.

‘I've just seen the charming headgear, not to mention the face under it.'

‘It's a bit bruised,' agreed the sympathetic Debs, and
put her arm round Kate to help her back to the bed she'd just made.

‘A bit bruised!' said Kate, blinking back tears of self-pity as she slumped back against the pillows. ‘I look like something from a horror film. This turban thing doesn't help.'

‘You've got two lovely black eyes, it's true. But they'll fade. And at least you didn't break any teeth, or worse still your jaw.' Debs tucked in the sheets with practised ease. ‘You could be looking like that man Jaws in the old James Bond film.'

Kate smiled weakly. ‘Instead I bear a passing resemblance to Frankenstein's monster. Or maybe The Mummy?'

Debs laughed. ‘Good to see you've got a sense of humour.'

‘After seeing my face I need one!'

‘How about the memory?'

Kate thought about it. ‘Not too much success there, I'm afraid. Perhaps I'll get it back when my head stops aching. If it ever does.'

‘I'll give you something for that after your breakfast. What would you like to eat? Full English?'

Kate shuddered. ‘Just toast, please.'

After breakfast Kate felt better, able to adopt a more philosophical attitude towards her erring memory. It would come back, she told herself firmly, otherwise it wouldn't be giving her the odd flash of encouragement now and again. And her appearance would improve in time. She sighed despondently. It could hardly be worse.

After breakfast the nurse helped her to have a brief, sketchy bath, which tired Kate out but in other ways improved her well-being enormously.

‘At least I don't smell any more,' she said, settling back against the pillows with relief.

‘You didn't smell before!' objected Debs. ‘I keep my patients in good nick, I assure you.'

‘For which I'm very grateful.' Kate smiled at her, and won instant approval.

‘That's better. I'm off now, until tonight. So you just have a good rest before Sister comes to see you.'

Kate was glad to do as she was told, and felt a lot better by the time Sister paid her a visit. Once the questions and answers were over Kate asked if she could listen to one of the audio books her brother had brought her, and after receiving permission lay listening while one of her favourite actors read the thriller Adam had found for her.

There were no more visits from strange men that day, but during the morning Frances Dysart came in alone for half an hour.

‘Your father's tied up with an auction, but he'll come in with me this evening, darling. And tomorrow, if you're strong enough, Gabriel would like to visit.'

Kate smiled. ‘Tell her to bring my nephew.'

Frances beamed. ‘Adam said you'd remembered about his baby. He was over the moon.'

‘So was I.' Kate bit her lip. ‘Gabriel understands that I won't know her, does she?'

‘Of course she does. Leo's coming down as soon as you're well enough—Fenny, too. And Jess is flying over soon.'

‘Should she be doing that—?' Kate halted, her eyes suddenly bright. ‘She's pregnant, isn't she?'

‘Oh, yes, darling. She is.' Frances swallowed hard. ‘There, you see? It won't be long before you remember everything.'

‘I just hope I look less scary soon,' said Kate ruefully. ‘I saw myself in the mirror for the first time this morning.'

Her mother nodded sympathetically. ‘Your poor little face. But it's only bruises. By some miracle no bones were broken.'

‘I was very lucky, wasn't I?' said Kate soberly.

 

After her mother left the day dragged for Kate. She couldn't concentrate on the taped story for very long at a time. Instead she found herself wondering how Alasdair was doing during his first day with his new workforce, and wished she could see him again to ask him. On the other hand, she thought, depressed, it was a miracle he was up for a repeat visit at all, the way she looked. Which brought her to wondering about her other surprise visitor. Looking back, she realised he'd never actually said he was her fiancé, just implied it. Probably he'd told someone that just to get in to see her. But why?

She found out when Adam came in to see her on his way home.

Once he'd asked after her, and settled on the chair beside her, he told her that a friend of hers had been in to the auction house.

‘You remember that's where Dad and I work?' he asked.

‘Only because Mother told me about it,' she admitted.

‘It'll come.' He patted her hand consolingly. ‘Anyway, the auction this morning was mainly furniture and silver, and a friend of yours made off with quite a few items. He asked me to give you his regards, and requested a visit when you were up for it. I said I'd pass on the message—'

‘Are you talking about someone called Jack Spencer?'

Adam's eyes lit up. ‘You remember him?'

‘No, I don't. But he managed to get in to see me for a minute yesterday morning. I thought he said he was my fiancé, so imagine my surprise when a second fiancé, the real McCoy this time, turned up in the evening in the shape of Alasdair.' Kate pulled a face. ‘He was furious when I described this Jack Spencer.'

‘Spencer's niece is one of your pupils in Foychurch.' Adam gave her a quizzical grin. ‘So what's all this about being engaged to Alasdair, then? Quick work when he's only been back from the States for a couple of weeks.'

Kate looked startled. ‘Is that all? I've known him longer than that, surely!'

‘You were up at Cambridge together. But that was years ago. You've hardly seen him since until now.'

‘Odd. Because I was sure I knew him when he came in. Just as I did with you and the parents.'

Adam nodded slowly. ‘It's not surprising. You were pretty close in the past. I suppose you just took up again where you left off.'

‘I wish I knew,' she said in frustration. ‘Did this Mr Spencer say when he wanted to come?'

‘Whenever you like, apparently. It's something to do with his niece—Abby, he called her. Ring a bell?'