‘As Amelia was,’ I said, pausing to give Mum a quick reassuring smile.
‘Exactly. But I don’t want to give you the impression that we’re completely out of the woods just yet. Amelia’s coronary readings are still giving us cause for concern, and it’s too early to be able to give you a satisfactory long-term prognosis, which I realise is what you both want to hear. What Icanassure you is that we’re going to be monitoring her very closely in the days and weeks to come.’
‘Could there be other organ damage, Dr Vaughan, in addition to the heart?’ I hesitated before continuing, as if saying the words out loud would make it real. ‘Could she have suffered any brain damage?’
His eyes dropped to a sheet in Amelia’s file. ‘The head CT taken on the night she was admitted doesn’t indicate any abnormalities, but we’ll obviously be conducting other examinations. In fact, there are a great many tests we’d like to undertake, but we need to be mindful that your sister has been through an incredibly traumatic experience and her emotional well-being is just as important as her physical state. I understand she became very distressed today during her MRI.’
He paused as though weighing up his next words and wondering just how honest he ought to be. ‘I’m going to be completely frank with both of you. Amelia’s is the first case of this kind that I have personally encountered. Which is why I have reached out to colleagues at one of the major hospitals in Sweden, who have far more experience dealing with this condition.’
I bit my lip worriedly. ‘And have any of the doctors in Sweden had patients with… memory issues?’ I asked.
Dr Vaughan nodded slowly. ‘Some, yes. A large proportion of patients appear remarkably unscathed by the event – and some have been clinically dead for periods of up to six hours, which we believe wasnotthe case with Amelia. But yes, in answer to your question, I understand that some patients have memory loss ranging from quite mild to severe.’
I shook my head. ‘Not memoryloss, doctor. New memories. False memories of things that have never happened.’
He opened his mouth to reply but I silenced him as I reached for the illustration that I’d torn from Amelia’s sketch pad. ‘My sister drew this a couple of hours ago. It’s a picture of a man she is adamant is her husband. A man who I can tell you absolutely and categorically does not exist.’
*
‘Do you think he’s right, telling us to keep up the pretence with her?’ Mum asked as we stepped into the hospital’s revolving door. The contrast from the overheated hospital air to the January chill was enough to take my breath away.
‘I don’t think he knowswhatto suggest, Mum,’ I replied sadly. ‘At least he was honest enough to admit he’s never known a case like hers. Not that it helps us much. He seems confident that she’ll soon let go of the fantasy and realise there are too many things that don’t make sense for it to be true.’
I linked my arm through Mum’s. ‘Finding her phone and showing Amelia itisn’tfilled with photos of her and Sam would be a good place to start.’
‘But what do we tell her in the meantime? We have to say something when she asks why Sam hasn’t been in touch,’ Mum said, struggling with the clasp of her seat belt. I reached over and clipped it in place for her. This would be the last time I’d drive the rental vehicle, which was going to be collected the next day. From now on I’d be using Amelia’s car. It made sense and sadly, from everything Dr Vaughan had said, Amelia wouldn’t be needing it herself for the foreseeable future.
I waited until the car park barrier had lifted to release us before I returned to Mum’s question.
‘We need to find a plausible reason why he can’t get in touch with her,’ I said.
‘Perhaps we could say he’s been kidnapped and we’re trying to raise the ransom money?’
My lips twitched in the first natural smile I’d given that day.
‘Orrrrr,’ I said, drawing the word out, ‘we could think of something that didn’t sound like the plot of a Netflix thriller.’
Mum didn’t take offence, but she gave back as good as she got.
‘Like what? What do you suggest?’
I worked in the world of fiction. I must have heard a thousand different plots over the years. Surely one of them could provide me with a solution? But when I allowed my thoughts to travel to the place where I worked, the answer came from real life rather than the pages of a book.
‘I’ve got it! Merle, one of the other editors at work, has just come back from a ten-night stay at a silent retreat in upstate New York. It’s a place where people go to meditate and recharge in strict silence. And the best thing is, the retreat insists there’s absolutely no communication with the outside world. No phones, no technology, nothing.’ I turned to grin at Mum, like a magician who’d found the rabbit and successfully pulled it out of the hat. Disappointingly, Mum didn’t look convinced.
‘I’m not so sure, Lexi. I don’t know if that’s the kind of thing Sam is into.’
‘Mum,’ I said gently, ‘thereisno Sam.’
She laughed nervously, looking so embarrassed that I took one hand off the wheel to squeeze hers gently. ‘I know. This is all kinds of fucked up. But at least it gives us something to say to Mimi when she asks.’
It was a measure of how distracted Mum was that she didn’t even flinch when I swore; she just nodded slowly in agreement.
7
The pizza hadn’t gone down well. I should have known better than to order one with extra jalapeños at the restaurant where Mum and I stopped for dinner. Two hours after switching off the bedside lamp I was still tossing and turning, unable to get comfy in Amelia’s extremely comfortable guest bed. Jet lag was bad enough, but when coupled with indigestion, sleep was a virtual impossibility.
Longing for the bottle of Pepto-Bismol I’d left back in New York, I threw back the duvet and scurried across creaky floorboards towards the bathroom. Yesterday I’d spotted an old packet of Rennies in the cabinet and, ignoring the fact they were three years past their use-by date, I perched on the edge of Amelia’s bathtub and crunched two of the chalky tablets. Despite an icy chill that made the bathroom as cold as a meat locker, I was in no hurry to return to my bed. Not because I wasn’t tired, but because I knew exactly where my eyes would be drawn the moment I returned to the room.