Losing Me Finding You (18 page)

Twenty-four years old

The sun shines into my room and today I turn twenty-four years old.

As I open my eyes, I’m greeted with the sound of heavy traffic and the obnoxious wailing of a siren. The noise makes my heart stop as a wave of fear washes over me. And as the sun disappears behind a huge black cloud, a cold sweat breaks out all over my body. Within minutes, it’s pelting down with rain.

It all feels strangely ominous.

I glance to my left and see the other side of the bed is empty. A part of me thought there might be someone there, but now that I try to picture who…I can’t. The room is cold, as though the heating has turned off in the middle of the night, and as I throw back the covers, I hustle towards the thermostat and turn it all the way up. I hear the heating switch on and picking up a long grey cardigan from the chair, I walk towards the window where I press my legs against the radiator, wrapping myself in the jumper as I stare outside, trying to work out where I am, and why this all feels so unfamiliar.

London.

The buildings, the traffic, the sounds. It’s the only place I could be. I can’t quite work out where in London I am yet; none of the familiar landmarks, like Tower Bridge or the Millennium Wheel, are visible from my window. I’d have to be rich to live in an apartment with views like that.

The heating finally starts to kick in, warming my body up. But as I stand at the window staring out at the cold grey day, an uneasy feeling settles over me.

A missed encounter.

A lost opportunity.

Wasted time.

I can’t quite figure out what it is. It feels like something is missing though. Like I’ve misplaced something that’s very important to me, only I don’t know where it is or what I’m even supposed to be looking for.

Shaking it off, I turn and take in the rest of my flat.

Definitely not rich.

It’s a tiny one-room place that has one corner for the bedroom, one for the kitchen and one for the living room. The fourth corner has a door, which I presume and hope leads to a bathroom. Just as I’m walking towards it, the sound of a phone ringing breaks the silence of my flat. Turning, I see the mobile phone vibrating on the bedside table and I hurry over to pick it up, the name
Nick
flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” I say, having no idea who Nick is.

“Hey, sis, happy birthday, you old fart,” a guy’s voice comes through the phone.

I smile, realising Nick must be my brother. “Thanks,” I say.

“We still on for tonight?” he asks me.

“Tonight?” I ask, stalling as I try to work out what tonight might involve.

“Shit, is the Alzheimer’s setting in already?” Nick says laughing. “You, me, couple of our mates out for dinner and drinks?”

“Oh right, yeah, sorry,” I say, trying to make out as though I know what he’s talking about. “Bit slow, just woke up.”

“Geez lazy bones, it’s after ten,” Nick says, still laughing. He sounds nice, my brother, friendly and warm and I wonder why I can’t picture him or remember more about him. “Alright, go, enjoy your day and I’ll see you tonight, okay? The Porterhouse near Piccadilly in case you’ve forgotten already.”

“Thanks,” I say, breathing out with relief. “Around eight okay?”

“Sure thing, Evie, see you tonight,” he says, hanging up.

I end the call and walk towards the kitchen to make myself some tea. I’m slightly anxious about tonight as I realise not only do I know nothing about the man who has been my brother for the last twenty-four years, I also have no idea what he even looks like.

But most of all, I have no idea why I can’t remember any of this.

When I finally arrive at the pub, it’s eight-thirty, but I’m glad I’m late. I hope this means I’ll walk in and my brother will see me first. It’s crowded and I can hear music coming from the other room, the sounds of a live band floating through. I head towards the bar, figuring a drink is probably a good move.

“Evie,” a male voice calls out as I’m making my way over there. I turn and see a guy who’s probably a couple of years older than me, waving at me. He doesn’t exactly look familiar, but I guess if you had to guess, you could say we’re related. I smile and wave back, watch as he says something to the guy sitting next to him before he gets up and walks towards me.

Shit, is this my brother or is this one of our friends? Why the hell can’t I remember him?

“Happy birthday, sis,” he says as he reaches me, enveloping me in a huge bear hug.

I wrap my arms around his waist, my face buried against his shoulder. He smells strangely familiar, whatever the scent is. “Thanks, Nick,” I say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Have you been waiting long?”

Nick pulls back, his hands on my shoulders now as he smiles down at me with green eyes that are similar to mine. “Not too long,” he says. “I wasn’t quite at the stage where I thought you’d forgotten me again,” he adds on, teasing me about this morning’s conversation.

“Ha ha, smartarse,” I say back, smiling at just how nice my brother is. The easy banter we share is friendly, and weirdly familiar.

“Come on, let me buy you a drink,” he says, his arm around my shoulder as he walks us towards the bar. “What are you having?”

I wrap my arm around his waist. “Umm, maybe a G&T,” I say.

After Nick buys us our drinks, we head back towards what is evidently our group of friends. It looks to be a group of six, eight if you count Nick and me, but for some reason, I don’t recognise anyone. I’m pretty sure we all know each other though, so I’m going to have to try and work out everyone’s names at some stage.

“So, I’ve got someone I want you to meet,” Nick says, pulling up an extra stool as we reach our group. Everyone hugs me and wishes me a happy birthday and I thank each of them, wondering who any of them are.

“What?” I ask, sitting next to my brother.

Nick smiles. “He’ll be here later. Just give him a chance okay?”

I nearly choke on my drink as I realise my brother is trying to set me up with someone. “What are you, my pimp?” I ask, swallowing half of my gin and tonic in one go.

Nick laughs. “No, just your amazing big brother,” he says, whacking me on the back as I start to cough.

“I don’t need dating help, Nick,” I say, having no idea why my brother would chose do set me up with someone.

“Evie, please,” he says, a smile on his face that lets me know he’s being kind. “You haven’t had a boyfriend in forever, and at least this way, I know it’s going to be someone decent and not a complete wanker.”

A shiver runs down my spine.

When was the last time I had a boyfriend? I can’t even remember.

“Evie,” Nick says, his face softer now. “He’s a nice guy, really. Just give him a chance, yeah?”

I look at my brother. Somehow I know I can trust him, trust his judgment on this.

“Okay,” I say, shrugging, even though the idea of meeting someone doesn’t feel quite right.

7th March 2000

Twenty-four years old

“So, you’re at least going to give him a go, right?” Nick asks, smiling as he sits across from me.

I roll my eyes. “Is he at least going to show up this time?” I ask, reminding him of my birthday a week ago.

Nick takes a long drag of his cigarette before picking up his pint. “Yes, he will, I promise. Last time wasn’t his fault you know.”

“Sure, sure,” I say picking up my beer. “It just doesn’t exactly bode well for a future relationship now, does it?” I’m only teasing him, but there’s a part of me that means it. A part of me that still doesn’t feel entirely sure about this.

From what I could gather at my birthday drinks last week, this isn’t the first time Nick’s tried to set me up. The others have all been watching his attempts and my rejections, and they were teasing him about it happening again. Deep down, I already know nothing is going to come of this, regardless of how nice the guy is. It all just makes me feel uneasy.

And something about it feels very, very wrong.

“Ev,” he says, reaching out to touch my hand. “It’s going to be fine, I promise. He’s a good guy, I wouldn’t set you up with a dickhead you know.”

I smile, trying to squash my unease. Despite still not really remembering him, I do trust Nick, I have from the minute I met him. It’s not just because he’s my brother, there’s something else about him, something that screams trust, loyalty. I like it, I’m glad I have him.

“I know,” I say, trying to reassure him. “So, you going to tell me anything about him, a name, maybe?”

Nick smiles now, his face full of mischief and humour. “Nope, you can just wait and see.”

I laugh, taking another sip of my beer. “Is he good looking at least?”

I watch as my brother rolls his eyes at me. “Geez, shallow much?” he asks, laughing.

“Whatever,” I say, suddenly distracted by Nick glancing at the door and waving to someone. I take a deep breath as I square my shoulders and prepare to meet the man my brother seems to think could be a match for me.

Within seconds a tall, brown-haired man is standing beside our table. He’s looking down, smiling as he holds his hand out to me. I’m not sure whether he’s actually said anything though, because I’m too distracted by the intense feeling of guilt that’s suddenly rising up inside me.

I reach out, almost on autopilot, as I take his hand, his warm grip only strengthening whatever it is that’s going on inside my body. Do I know this guy or something? He doesn’t look familiar, but he’s smiling at me as though I do.

“Evie,” my brother says. “This is my friend, the one I’ve told you about. This is Bennett,” he says, gesturing to his friend. “And this is my sister, Evie.”

I smile. “Nice to meet you Bennett,” I say.

He smiles back at me as he squeezes my hand and says, “Please, call me Ben, and it’s…”

But I don’t hear another word he says, because right in that very second, with that one single word…
Ben
…everything comes rushing back.

Memories of a boy who walked me to school, of a boy who rescued my cat, and of a boy who gave me my first kiss. Memories of a man who became my best friend, a man who wanted me to be his girlfriend, who was my boyfriend. Memories of a man who did so many amazing things to my body, things that no other man had ever done before, has ever done since.

But with all of that, comes the heartache of a man who betrayed me, who broke my heart and hurt me in ways that I never thought possible.

But there are recent memories too. Memories of a man who waited for me, who begged me to find him. A man who told me he still loved me and is somewhere now,
still
waiting for me.

But it’s not this man who’s standing in front of me.

This is not the Ben I’ve been looking for.

This is not my Ben and as I glance down, I suddenly realise how wrong my hand looks in his. I pull back, shoving my hands in my pockets as my brother says, “Evie, you okay, you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

I look over at him, wishing I could explain it all and that he could somehow understand what he’s done. Half of me wants to kiss him for triggering all of my memories and the other half of me wants to punch him for daring to suggest that I should be with someone other than my Ben.

“Evie?” he asks again, glancing at his friend, who’s staring at both of us as if he can’t work out what’s going on.

I stand. “Nick, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“What, wait, Evie, what the hell’s going on here?” he asks, standing too.

I turn to look at Ben, wishing I wasn’t doing this to him, even though I don’t even know the guy. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m really sorry.”

Ben stares at me, his hand outstretched again as if to stop me, but I hold mine up, stopping everything before I walk around the table to my brother. Nick stares at me, speechless, as I wrap my arms around him, press up on my toes and kiss his cheek. “I wish I could explain it to you,” I tell him. “And maybe one day I will,” I add on, knowing I won’t. There’s a good chance I’ll never see him again after this, not when I find Ben. “But I have to go,” I whisper. “I’ve just remembered something.”

Remembered
everything
actually
.

9th March 2000

Twenty-four years old

It’s been two days since I got my memories back and for two days I’ve been trying to get in contact with Ben. Last time he said he was in London. This time I’m in London, but I have no idea whether he’s still here and if he is, where he lives. We never got time for the details.

It’s technically only been nine days since I last saw him, but with everything that’s happened, it feels more like nine hundred. As soon as I got home after I remembered, I tried ringing his station, but whoever answered said he wasn’t there and gave me his mobile number instead. At least I got that because Sarah never had a mobile number to give me. I’ve called her too and she’s happy for me. She knows I’m still in London and that I’ve seen Ben. I’ve alluded to the fact that we talked and I guess she probably assumes we’re back together. I don’t bother telling her anything different because there’s no way she will ever fully understand everything that’s happened over the last ten days. It’s better if she thinks it’s all going well.

It helps me as I try to convince myself it will.

But I still can’t get in contact with Ben. I’ve tried calling his mobile number, but it goes straight to voicemail. I started off calling every hour, but that rapidly descended into every thirty minutes, then every ten and finally, almost constantly. I must have left him hundreds of messages, begging him to call me, but he never has.

I don’t know what could possibly have changed in nine days, but a part of me can’t let go of the idea that it’s something very, very bad.

Right now, I’m sitting on my bed wrapped in a cardigan as I stare at the phone, willing him to call me back. He doesn’t. The only person who’s been calling me is Nick. I’ve spoken to him a couple of times, tried to explain why I ran off that day. I’m not sure how much he bought that I suddenly remembered I had an appointment, but what else could I say. I wish I could tell him the truth, but deep down, I know I will never explain this to Nick. How can I?

I could call Ben’s family. I don’t want to, but at this rate, I know I’m going to have to. I’ve been putting it off, stalling in the hopes that Ben will just call me back and I can avoid it. Because I have no idea what the hell I’m going to say to them when I do call. No idea what they’re going to think of me, or worse still, whether they’re going to tell me anything anyway.

It’s one thing to reach out to Ben after disappearing from his life; he knows the reasons why. But it’s quite another to reach out to his family, to the only real family I’ve ever had, and try to explain to them where I’ve been for the last four years. Try to make sense of all the things that I’ve done to him and the reasons why I never came back.

“Come on, Ben,” I say to the phone. “Call me back, please.”

But it doesn’t make any difference and the longer I sit here staring at my phone, the more I know I’m going to have to call them.

I take a deep breath trying to steady my nerves as my fingers type in their number. I remember it now, the easy familiarity with which the numbers fall from my brain still hard for me to understand. Only two days ago, I didn’t even know these people existed. Now, I can recite their home number, address, birthdays, everything, without even thinking about it. I wish I could understand how to unlock these memories earlier. Wish I could work out how I could stop forgetting them all in the first place.

I lift the phone to my ear, listen as the call connects and starts to ring. At the same time, my heart starts pounding in my chest and for a second, I wonder if it’s actually going to break through my ribs. The room is completely silent; the only noise is the racing of my heart and the phone in my ear.

“Hello?”

I exhale, relief flooding through me as I instantly recognise Rachel’s voice. “Rach, hi, it’s me,” I say, my fingers twisting in the duvet.

“Who is this?” she asks and I feel my heart sink. She’s forgotten me? Has something gone wrong and she’s forgotten who I am? This has never happened before.

I take another deep breath, trying to bury my frustrations. “It’s me,” I say into the phone. “Evie.”

“Evie?” she asks and I can hear the shock in her voice.

“Yeah,” I say loosening my death grip on the phone before it cracks in half. “I’m trying to get hold of Ben,” I tell her. “His phone keeps going to voicemail and I wonder if you knew why, if something…”

“You have some nerve calling here after what you did to him,” Rachel says, interrupting me. Her voice is laced with anger and it fills me with dread. Words run through my head, a silent plea for her to listen, to understand. I’m so close to finding Ben, please don’t let something like this stop me.

Please just understand Rachel, I never meant to hurt him; it’s not what you think.

But before I can voice any of these things, she continues, “Why don’t you just piss off and leave him alone, give him a chance to get over you.”

“Rachel, please…” I plead with her, knowing she has every right to be angry with me, especially when I’ve been missing from Ben’s life for so long. “Just tell me where he is, please, just let me know he’s okay.”

“He’s better off without you,” is all she says, before hanging up on me.

As the click of her disconnection sounds in my ear, I throw my mobile phone across the room. It doesn’t even hit anything, just lands on the floor with a pathetic bump.

“Fuck!” I scream to the empty room. Where the hell is Ben, why isn’t he answering his phone? And why won’t his sister tell me anything?

I stomp towards my phone, picking it up and trying Ben’s number one more time. Straight to voice mail. “Shit,” I say, frustrated. Who the fuck can I call now?

Suddenly, I have a thought. Paul. I’ll call Paul. He’ll know where Ben is, why he isn’t answering his phone. Swallowing the fear that accompanies that thought, not wanting to face it just yet, I quickly dig out my laptop so I can log on to the telephone directory. I have no idea what Paul’s number is and right now I’m hoping his family still live in Fleet so I can look them up.

Once I’ve found their name and address, I punch in the numbers and wait for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” a lady’s voice says. “Tanner residence.”

I exhale in relief, knowing this must be Paul’s mum. “Mrs Tanner, hi.” I blurt out. “It’s Evie, a friend of Paul’s from ages ago.” I have no idea whether she remembers me, whether she’ll know what happened four years ago, whether she’ll even want to speak to me.

“Oh, Evie, so lovely to hear from you, it’s been forever,” she says and I silently agree while saying a quiet thank you that maybe this time I’ll have some luck.

“I know, it has,” I blurt out before rushing on. “Listen, I’m trying to get hold of Paul, but I’m not sure how to reach him,” I continue, knowing I’m being incredibly rude by not asking how she is first. “Do you happen to have a number I can reach him on?”

“Yes,” she says and I can hear her shuffling around as though she’s looking for something. “How are you, Evie?” she adds on and I have to take a deep breath just to calm down so I don’t snap at her.

“I’m okay, thanks, Mrs Tanner. How are you?”

“Oh good, good,” she says and I can hear the smile in her voice.

Please don’t ask me where I’ve been. Please.

“Okay, I have the station number,” she says now. “And a mobile somewhere, although I don’t like to call that one too often, too many…”

“Station number is fine,” I say quickly, cutting her off.

I grab a pen as she reads out the numbers for Vauxhall Fire Station to me, scribbling the name and number on my forearm. At least Paul’s in London. And if he’s here, then there’s a good chance Ben is still here. It’s only been nine days.

My heart starts to race now at the possibility that I might see him again, soon. Today maybe.

“Is there anything else, dear?” she asks now, breaking my train of thought.

“Um, no, that’s it. Thanks,” I say, desperate to get off the phone so I can call Paul.

“Okay, well you take care, Evie,” Paul’s mum says to me. “I hope we see you soon.”

Her words hit me hard in the chest as I realise Ben isn’t the only person who’s life I disappear from. He and Paul were always such good friends, ever since they were kids. And Paul was always so kind to me, never questioning why I always tagged along with them, never teasing me about how much I hung off Ben’s every word. I’d liked it when he’d brought Lily into the group too, our slightly awkward threesome changing into two couples. It was relaxed, fun and we had some great times together. I hope we can have some of those great times together again.

“Me too, Mrs Tanner,” I say quietly. “And thank you.”

As soon as I hang up, I jump off the bed and start pacing, overcome by a shot of adrenaline as I rapidly punch in the numbers for Vauxhall Station. As the phone starts to ring, I’m silently begging that Paul answers the phone. I should have gotten his mobile number, just in case. At least I know I can always call his mum back if I need to.

“Vauxhall Station, Paul Tanner speaking,” comes the voice that is once again so familiar.

“Oh Paul, thank god,” I say, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Evie?” he asks, surprised.

I smile, grateful he hasn’t just remembered me, but that he’s also recognised me. “Yeah hi, Paul, it’s me. Look I’m trying to get hold of Ben but his phone goes straight to voicemail. I just rang his house but his sister won’t tell me anything, hung on up on me. I don’t know where he is, do you know, is he still at Ealing station?” My words are a rush, spilling from my mouth without me even thinking about what I’m saying, or how rude I sound, or even to give Paul a chance to say anything. I’m so desperate for something, anything, just to know Ben is alright.

“Evie, where the hell have you been?” Paul asks, but there’s no malice in his voice as he says it.

I exhale, trying to catch my breath. God I wish we’d told Paul about me, back when we were kids. We came so close, so many times and it would have made all of this so much easier. Just to have someone else know what we went through, know what Ben went through all the times I wasn’t here. All the times I couldn’t remember him.

Just to have someone know I hadn’t left him now.

“Paul, I’m sorry, really. I know I’m being rude and I can explain, I promise. But please, just tell me where Ben is, I really need to see him,” I plead.

I hear Paul take a deep breath and in that second, the feeling of dread that I’ve had ever since I’ve been trying to reach Ben, intensifies. Suddenly, my biggest fear starts to become a reality as it hits me that I was right; something really bad has happened.

“Evie, listen,” he says. I can hear the sounds of others in the station, laughing and talking in the background as though everything is perfectly normal when I know, deep in my heart, that it isn’t. I try to picture Ben, as though he’s there with them at work, laughing with the boys. As though that will somehow make everything okay. But then Paul continues. “Something’s happened, I…well, hang on, just let me move somewhere quieter.”

I feel myself sliding down the wall until I hit the floor as I listen to Paul walk, the sounds of the station fading into the background. Shit, it’s happened, it’s really happened. My worst fear has come true and now I’m too late and I’ve lost Ben. And after all this time, after what I did to him. God, I never even got a chance to properly apologise.

Never got the chance to tell him how very sorry I am.

“Are you still there?” Paul asks, all of the other noise now gone.

“Yes,” I whisper, not sure if he even hears me.

“Okay look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but you should know, he missed you, a hell of a lot, Evie. He always talked about you, hoped you’d come back from wherever you’d gone. He was a miserable bastard for a lot of the time, but he never gave up on you, not once.”

Why is Paul talking in the past tense?

I’m not sure I can sit here and listen to this anymore. If I don’t hear it, then it never happened. And if it never happened, then I might still find Ben. I might still be able to find my Ben.

“It happened only a couple of days ago,” he says, his words barely getting through the loud noise that’s now filling my head. It’s like a rush of wind, a dark storm that is taking place between my ears and drowning out everything else.

“His station got called to a fire in an abandoned old warehouse. It was pretty bad, already out of control when they arrived. Everything was going fine until he noticed some people in the upstairs window, calling for help. Squatters of course, they were lucky they were even conscious and noticed the fire in the first place.”

There is a loud hammering in my chest now and it takes me a second to realise it’s my heart. It’s pounding, breaking through my ribs as I try to picture the scene, try not to think about what Paul’s going to tell me next. The memory of a fire from another life, nine years ago, flashes before me and I don’t want to think about Ben walking into something like that.

“Of course Ben was the first to notice them, and so the first to go inside. They were up on the second floor, Evie. The warehouse, it was really old and should have been boarded up.”

“Just tell me how it happened?” I finally ask, needing to know. Hoping it was quick.