No Kiss Goodbye (30 page)

Dr. Hammond shakes his head solemnly. ‘Your baby girl died in the car crash. You don’t have any other children.’

I can’t bring myself to look at the man as he speaks. I wonder how much Mark had to pay him to get him to play along. Maybe he isn’t even a real doctor.

‘You bastard,’ I scream as Mark locks the car and walks towards the house. ‘You tricked me. You evil, evil bastard.’

Mark repeats the same two words over and over. ‘I’m sorry.’

It was too late for apologies. I despise him. He’s destroyed me, and I can never forgive him. I look at the four faces surrounding me. I’m trapped. Mark has won.

I turn and race towards the back door, my feet slipping on the tiles as I gather speed. I’m just about to grip the handle of the door when I felt Mark’s firm arm around my waist pulling me back.

‘You need help,’ he whispers softly into my ear. ‘Please let us help you.’

I thrash wildly against him, but I’m exhausted and no match for his strength.

‘I hate you,’ I shout at Nigel who doesn’t dare look me in the eye. ‘Ava and I trusted you and you betrayed us.’

Mark’s arms are so tight around me they crush my ribs. My feet no longer touch the ground.

‘This way,’ Mark says as he carries me outside to where an ambulance waits with flashing blue lights and no siren.

‘I love you,’ Mark whispers as he kisses my cheek. His lips feel like acid against my skin. I hate him, but I wouldn’t create a scene. It would argue against me. A hysterical woman – sleep deprived and emotional – is the textbook picture of neurotic. I won’t give them the satisfaction. Instead, I’m composed and I surrender willingly. I know my only choice is to go with the doctor. I’m afraid of what they might do if I don’t, but it isn’t the end. I will run away. I have before, and I can again. I will bide my time and I will leave, and this time they will never find the kids or me.
Who will be laughing then?

Epilogue

Six Months Later

I like the new curtains I bought earlier that day in town. They sit just right as they hang proudly over the sitting room bay window. I have nearly fallen off the chair twice as I fiddle with the eyelets and pole trying to make sure both sides are even. The kids think my struggle is hilarious.

I beg the children to respect the delicate soft satin material, but I know my pleas fall on deaf ears. My beautiful cream with lavender weave curtains will probably be a foggy grey with chocolate-handprint weave by the end of the week, but I honestly don’t mind. Yes, I like pretty things in my home, but the prettiest things I have are looking up at me through three pairs of beautiful big blue eyes.

‘I promise I’ll get a tissue for my nose next time, Aunt Laura,’ Lorcan says, remembering my mini meltdown about a previous runny nose incident with the old curtains.

‘Thank you, sweetheart.’ I smile tossing my nephew’s hair affectionately.

‘Me, too,’ Bobby agrees not really understanding what he’s signing himself up for.

Katie is already christening the bottom of one side of the curtains with the contents of her upside-down bottle, and I know that means they get her seal of approval.

I glance at my watch. I’ll have to wait until later to wipe the milky stain out. I need to get ready. Ava and Adam will be here soon. Our dinner reservation is in a little over an hour; I don’t want everyone moaning at me for delaying them as usual.

I lift Katie into her playpen and press play on whatever DVD is in the machine, and wait as Bobby and Lorcan crawl up on the sofa.

‘Watch your cousin for me, okay?’ I request of Lorcan.

‘Okay, sure.’ He smiles, only giving me half his attention. The movie has started, and I’m clearly a nuisance.

That is one of the reasons I love our apartment in New York more than I ever cared for our house in Ireland. Even if the kids decide to come investigate my whereabouts, there are no stairs for them to tumble down in the large open-plan design.

Soon there are three evenly spaced knocks on the front door, and I curse Ava for being so early.

***

Mark

I watch Laura with a subtle smile. It’s refreshing to see her in such high spirits.

‘Does she know we’re out here?’ I ask.

‘No,’ Dr. Hammond says shaking his head. ‘Laura only sees what she wants to see.’

‘But she’s so lonely in that empty white room,’ I say dryly.

‘On the contrary, she has lots of company,’ Dr. Hammond corrects. ‘Like I said, she sees what she wants to see. She wants to experience happy marital bliss with a wonderful young family, so that’s what her mind has created for her.’

I watch Laura kiss the air and guess it’s the face of her imaginary husband.

‘Is that me?’ I choke. ‘Does she see me?’

‘The real you out here peering through this glass? No. But the you she loves in her heart? Yes. She sees you every day,’ Dr. Hammond explains.

‘Will she ever come home again,’ I ask. The words catch in my throat and make me cough.

‘Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder affects different people in different ways,’ Dr. Hammond says.

‘I know. And I understand all that. I’ve read so much about it on the internet that I can’t see straight anymore. But I can’t find an article with a definite answer.’

‘That’s because there isn’t one. The mind is a powerful and delicate thing, Mark. Laura can see and hear Ava as clear as she can hear and see you and me.’

‘And the meds? Will they start working soon?’

‘We hope so, Mark, but what you have to understand is, even when Laura realises the gravity of her loss, she still may not be able to accept it. We’ve been at this point before. As soon as Laura remembers and as soon as she feels the pain of her loss, her mind resets and we’re back to this charade.’

‘But she thinks Lorcan is her son, and Bobby, too.’

‘Actually, this time she has accepted that Lorcan is her nephew.’

‘So that’s progress, then,’ I beam almost euphoric, but my excitement quickly fades as Dr. Hammond shakes his head.

‘It’s just a minor change, Mark. It’s not unusual to reset with a new twist on the same story every time. It keeps it fresh and makes it more difficult for her head to sieve through clues and find the truth. And, it makes it more difficult for us to help her, I’m afraid.’

‘Can’t we just tell her the truth? Letting her figure it out on her own doesn’t work…maybe if I explain everything. Tell her we could adopt or something. Tell her no one blames her…maybe then she’ll be okay.’

‘But Laura blames herself, Mark. She can’t cope with the guilt. Nicole trusted Laura to pick her son up from school and Laura failed. If Laura hadn’t gone to the hairdressers, if she hadn’t been running late, if Ava had mentioned she was running late too…It’s all hypothetical, but Laura can’t get past it. Laura couldn’t have known the devastating chain of events that would unfold that day, but she feels as responsible as if she put a gun to all their heads and pulled the trigger. Laura lost her best friend and her little boy. Her nephew. And when she woke in the hospital, her unborn baby had been taken from her body along with her womb. The mind is a fragile thing, Mark. And Laura’s just isn’t strong enough to cope with her loss.’

I know from Dr. Hammond’s delicate choice of words and soft tones that reassuring concerned loved ones is a large part of his job, but I find it difficult to take any comfort.

Dr. Hammond walks to the desk at the end of the poky room giving me a chance to look around. The daunting room reminds me of the observation area used in detective movies where the victim peers through the one-sided glass at the row of prospective criminals on the other side. Laura isn’t guilty of any crime, and I feel decidedly uncomfortable spying on her.

Dr. Hammond types an odd combination of numbers and letters into a lonely laptop on the desk.

‘This is how we make sure Laura is comfortable,’ he explains.

I nod.

‘There is a command for everything,’ Dr. Hammond explains. ‘I control the lights, the door, even the temperature inside the room with this little computer.’

Dr. Hammond adjusts the audio control and soon Laura’s voice fills the entire room. I wilt as I listen fondly to Laura’s chattering. Her voice is just as beautiful as I remember but hearing it intensifies the pain. I wonder if such extreme security is necessary, but deep down I don’t want to know so I decide not to enquire. Besides, the last time I questioned their methods and suggested we try alternative options to jog her memory, Laura arrived on my brother’s doorstep in New York. Allowing Laura to play out her fantasy in the real world failed. My wife died in that crash…her body is still here but her soul is gone.

‘Today is a good day,’ Dr. Hammond says. ‘Laura’s just back from shopping and is about to head out with friends. I think you may have just arrived home from work.’

Dr. Hammond speaks about Laura’s actions as if she’s a puppet on a string.
He must see freaks like Laura every day
, I think. But Laura will never be a freak to me. She will always be my wife, and I will always love her with all my heart.

I listen to Laura have a happy one-sided conversation about the events of the day as she applies imaginary blusher to her cheeks with an imaginary brush.

I jump. Laura looks straight at me. She’s smiling. I smile back and reach out to her, but I bang my hand against the heavy glass. My heart sinks as I realise she thinks she’s looking in a mirror as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup.

I run my hand against the glass and try to remember the soft feel of her face against my fingers.

‘Is she happy?’ I ask, reluctant to hear the answer.

‘It’s not real, Mark. Her happiness is not real.’

‘That’s not what I asked you. I want to know if my wife is happy or not.’

Dr. Hammond points towards Laura’s bright smile. ‘I think you can see for yourself. She thinks she is happy. Yes.’

‘I lost Laura the day our baby daughter died. It’s taken a whole year to face that. If this is the only way she can be happy, then I am going to have to accept it and learn to be happy for her. But I miss her like hell. I miss my family so much. I wish I could jump into her imaginary world with her. Do you have a pill for that?’

‘You’re not the first person to ask me that,’ Dr. Hammond assures. ‘Unfortunately, I doubt you will be the last.’

‘Will you be okay?’ Dr. Hammond asks.

‘Don’t worry,’ I say sternly. ‘I can afford the best care for her, for as long as it takes. Laura has a great health insurance policy.’

‘I meant will
you
be okay?’ Dr. Hammond repeats this time exaggerating long vowel sounds. He stands slightly slouched and with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s asking more as a friend now than as a professional. Dr. Hammond has grown attached to Laura, and I’m grateful that she’s getting the best possible care. I smile as I reluctantly pull my hand away from the glass of Laura’s confinement. I can finally allow myself to walk away. I haven’t failed her; nothing has, not even the power of her own mind, trapping her. If anything, her mind has saved her. It’s released her from the pain that’s too much, too hard.

‘Yeah, I think I’ll be okay…’

Nicole and Nigel knock on the door and walk, holding hands, towards me. Nigel kisses his wife lovingly and nods. Nicole places her hands gently on my shoulders and turns me away from the glass. ‘Come on,’ she whispers. ‘You can come back again next week.’

I hug her gently, taking care not to press on her growing bump. She wipes the last few tears from my eyes and slowly leads me towards the door. I stop in the doorway and blow Laura back a tear-soaked kiss.

Laura doesn’t see, of course. How could she? She’s in a different world. A happy, wonderful world with beautiful children, a loving husband, and great friends. Her life is perfect.

The End

The idea for this book came about when my son was four years old and he almost died. It was the most terrifying and horrific time of my life and afterwards I couldn’t help but think what if…

Acknowledgements

As always there is a list as long as my arm of people to thank for the part they played in this book. Jenny at editing4indies. You really are a star, I’m so sorry this book made you cry (but that’s a good thing, right?!)

Najla at Najlaquamberdesigns.com your amazing covers rock my world and you truly are a pleasure to work with.

Natalie and Caroline, my writing heroes. As always, cheer
s


My lovely beta readers, Kath, Kathrin and Nicola. Your help is so very much appreciated.

My husband, thank you for giving me a family I adore. Being our children’s mother is, and always will be, my greatest achievement. I love you.

And finally, and so importantly, thank
you
for reading. I hope you enjoyed the time you spent in Laura’s head.

Janelle xx