Into the Storm (26 page)

He turned to me. “Come, Elizabeth.”

I stood up shakily, nervous at the abrupt change in his demeanor. He turned back to Daniel. “I apologize. I’m simply anxious to get Elizabeth home. And, of course I will make sure she is seen by our doctor. I appreciate the concern for my wife, but it’s not necessary.”

Daniel nodded silently, his brow furrowed.

Brian turned back to me, holding his coat in his hands. “Wear this Elizabeth. I don’t want anyone to see you like that.”

Again, I looked down. I was clean and tidy. Did it really matter? But again, I accepted his decree and allowed him to drape the coat over my shoulders. His arm came around me and he escorted me to the door. There was no comfort in his touch, only a sense of being trapped. I felt the stirrings of panic again as I realized what was happening. I was leaving the last piece of Joshua behind. I turned and caught Cecilia’s eye silently, desperately wanting her to know what I was saying.

Look after him.

Her nod was barely noticeable.

“
Take care, Elizabeth,” she murmured.

I smiled tremulously. I couldn’t speak. Brian guided me firmly to the elevator. “The car is downstairs and we are well-secured. No one will see us leave.”

I nodded, unsure what I was supposed to say to that remark.

The elevator doors closed and, abruptly, it hit me.

I was alone.

The car ride was quiet. Brian’s lawyer left in his own car, and other than being introduced briefly to his assistant, Randy, my presence was ignored. I looked out the window watching the bustling city go by. None of it looked familiar to me. Brian spoke at length with Randy, listing off items he wanted done. First apparently was that the shoes he was wearing be thrown out and his suit taken to the cleaners. So much for no harm done, it would seem.

We entered through the gates and pulled up in front of a large, imposing stone house. I gazed at it then turned to Brian. “This is where we live?” I asked quietly.

“
Yes,” he confirmed. “This is my house.”

I didn’t fail to notice his emphasis on
my
house.

He helped me out of the car and we entered. I walked in ahead of him and stood looking around the grand entrance. It was so … austere. There was nothing warm or welcoming about it. I shivered. Or was it just how I was feeling about this strange homecoming? Nothing felt welcoming.

A woman came from the hall. “Mr. James. Mrs. James. Welcome home. Your room is waiting and I will bring up tea when you are settled.”

Brian nodded. “Mrs. James will be resting the remainder of the day. No visitors. Take what she is wearing and get rid of it. She doesn’t want any reminders of the past few weeks.” He turned to Randy. “Wait in the den. I will be down soon.” Then he grabbed my elbow and escorted me to the staircase.

I allowed him to lead me upstairs and into a large bedroom. I looked around trying to find something familiar. Brian cleared his throat and I turned to look at him. He stared at me for a minute.

“
I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

I wasn’t sure how to answer him. “You were looking for me though?” I said quietly, knowing I had to try and establish a connection with this man.

He nodded. He made no move toward me. I was unsure if he was waiting for me to move to him or what I should do next. I noticed his hands were clenched at his side and he appeared tense. His stance wasn’t helping ease my nerves at all.

He finally spoke. “I’m sure this must all feel very strange to you. I am told you have no recollection of who you are? Or of our life together?”

“
No, none,” I whispered. “The first thing I recall is waking up in the care home.”

He frowned. “Dr. Tate informed me he thinks this is perhaps a permanent condition.”

I blinked. I hadn’t been told that. Unsure what to say, I murmured, “I’m sorry.”

He stood looking at me, a strange expression on his face. “We’ll discuss that later. I have matters to attend to downstairs. Mrs. Smith will bring you your tea. You can change into your own clothes and rest. I will come up later and go over the staff and your duties. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you understand what is expected of you.” With those words, he walked out.

I sat down feeling disoriented after his speech, which felt like a string of orders.

Was he always so formal?

My duties? What was expected of me? Was I his wife or a member of his staff?

Where was the man who had broken down in front of the camera desperate to have me back? I shook my head, my heart heavy and my thoughts chaotic.

What have you sent me back to, Joshua?

I was still sitting on the edge of the bed when Mrs. Smith appeared with a tray. She placed it on the bedside table. “You haven’t changed yet?”

I looked at her blankly. “I, um, I don’t know where anything is,” I admitted quietly.

Her stern expression softened. “So, it’s true. You have no memory?”

I shook my head.

She walked around the room and indicated the bathroom door and then opened a set of double doors. “Here is your closet and dressing room.” I followed her and stood looking at the large room. Rows of clothing hung neatly. A large set of drawers was at the end. I glanced at the racks; all blacks, browns, and navy. Suits, skirts, dresses; all organized and tidy. Blouses in white and black and beige hung in an orderly fashion. Shoes and boots were lined up straight. I looked at Mrs. Smith, confused. “Do I have anything, um, less structured?”

She pursed her lips. “Mr. James does not approve of looking casual very much. I would think, for today, it would be all right for you to wear your night clothes since you will not be leaving your room.”

I looked at her stunned. He did not
approve
of casual clothes? I was expected to be dressed-up all the time?

She leaned forward confidentially. “You have a few items you wear when he is away and you are alone. But I think, today, you should just use one of your nightdresses.” Then she gave me a small squeeze on my arm and a smile. “I will leave you to change and be back to collect your clothes. I have been instructed to dispose of them.”

I shook my head. “No, please. I want … I want to keep them.”

She looked at me for a minute then shrugged. “You have to give me something,” she said quietly.

“
I will. I promise.”

She nodded and left the dressing room. I opened the drawers until I found some nightgowns. Luckily, there were some pajamas as well, and even though they were black, they at least would be more comfortable than a suit or a dress. I changed quickly; piling the pants and underwear I was wearing into a ball, being sure to remove the small envelope first. That I tucked into the drawer of undergarments planning on opening it when I was finally alone. I found a white shirt and added it to the ball to make it look bigger. I hid Joshua’s hoodie and shirt in an almost empty drawer.

Mrs. Smith was waiting for me, and took the pile from my hands. “Would you like to lie down or sit in the chair?”

I chose the chair and she brought me my tea and a blanket to lie over my knees. “If you want something, the extension is 323,” she indicated the phone. “It is only an intercom. Not an outside line,” she informed me.

I nodded and she left.

I sat sipping my black tea with a small grimace. Apparently, I didn’t use sugar. Joshua always snuck a little extra sugar into my mugs when he thought I wasn’t looking. He seemed to think I was too thin and needed the extra calories. I sighed longingly, thinking of his subtle ways of caring for me.

I looked around the room. It was large, with lovely mouldings, but otherwise totally vacant of any personality. No pictures or knickknacks were around. Aside from the bedroom furniture and the chair I was sitting on, the only other piece in the room was a small bookcase which was filled with books, once again in a very neat and orderly fashion. I got up and went to inspect the bookcase. It was mostly novels and my heart clenched when I saw four of Joshua’s books on the shelves. I pulled one out and turned it over. I sighed. Of course there was no picture. I looked inside the book jacket in case, desperate to see his face, but there was nothing. His foreword included some general thanks to his editor and his assistant, CC. I smiled a little. I had never noticed that before. He never said her last name. My knees suddenly gave away as my mind tore through every conversation I had ever had with him, Cecilia or Trevor. I didn’t know any other information about Cecilia or Trevor. I had no idea where they lived. They were the only connection I had to Joshua and I had no idea how to get a hold of them. I felt my eyes fill with tears. It wasn’t like I could just ask Brian.

The envelope. I made my way to the dressing room and my hands shook as I opened the envelope. A small black square fell into my hand and I looked at it. It was a small memory stick. No doubt the photos of my injuries that Joshua took. He promised me he would make sure I had it. I looked inside the envelope and saw a card. I pulled it out, praying it was a message from him.

There were two lines of writing on it, one on the top and one on the bottom. I recognized his large, rather messy script.

WIH 98

AAW193

That was it. I stared at the card. I didn’t understand. What did that mean? I held the card up to the light, but there was nothing. Cecilia’s words came back to me. ‘He said to tell you to guard it. That you would figure it out.’ I shook my head, my breath catching on a sob; I didn’t understand. I placed both items back in the envelope then put the envelope into a pair of socks where it would not be found. I made my way back to the chair and slumped into it.

My head ached and I was so tired. And confused. I looked around the strange room and buried my head in my hands. I sobbed until I fell asleep.