The Bringer (30 page)

“
Of course I wanted you!” He clutches his head. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He comes around the bed toward me but I back away from him. He stops in his tracks, hurt etched all over his face, but I’m too consumed by my own grief to care. “I didn’t know where you were,” he says, his voice quiet, regretful. “And I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all of this, Luce, really I am, but there was nothing I could do. One minute you were there, the next you were gone.”

He fixes his pained eyes on mine and they’re so intense I feel like they’re burning into me, but even still, I can’t seem to look away. “If I had known where you were I would have jumped on a plane and come here straight away, I swear to you.”

And that’s when I notice his accent. English. Like they said mine is. “Plane?” I repeat, confused.

“
I . . . we –” He points between the both of us. “– live together at my house in London. We were together the night you vanished.”

My anger once again takes over. “You’re not making sense!” I tug at my hair, frustrated. “How the hell was I in London, and then I vanish and end up here in Sydney with no memory of anything? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“
I know it’s confusing,” he says hurriedly, his face taut, “but, Luce, you’re different to other people.”

“
Different?” I exclaim horrified. A hundred scenarios of 'different' flash through my mind, none of them good.

“
Okay, so different probably wasn’t the best word.” He smiles sheepishly. “What I mean is you’re special, Luce, and in a very good way. But it’s all a lot to explain, too much, and you probably wouldn’t believe me anyway if I told you. That’s why Isabel’s here. She’s going to try and retrieve your memories for you, if you’ll let her, and then you’ll remember everything for yourself.”

I glance at Isabel. Her eyes are already on me and she nods in agreement with James. My mind is still racing. I begin pacing around in attempt to try to gather my scattered thoughts. I mean this is all just crazy. CRAZY. But, if one ounce of what they’re saying is the truth, it means I can finally find out who I am.

I stop and turn to Isabel. “Just how exactly are you proposing to get my memory back – when all the doctors haven’t been able to, and four weeks of intense therapy hasn’t revived one single memory – just what makes you so special that you’re gonna be able to do it?”

“
I’ve already told you what makes me special,” she says simply.

“
Oh yeah, course!” I scoff and slap my hand on my forehand, “you’re an angel.”

She rolls her eyes at me. She actually rolls her eyes. “Okay, enough of this,” Isabel says. She claps her hands together and everything stops. James stops moving. The look of stress that was furrowing his brow is now permanently fixed on his face. He’s looks inert. And the room is so still and serene it seems as if even the air has stopped circulating. The only things that are animated are Isabel and me.

My head is prickling and my every instinct is on high alert. My mind is telling me to sprint from this room but, unfortunately, my legs don’t seem to be agreeing as they’re not going anywhere.

“
What . . . what . . . have you done?” I stammer.

“
I’ve just frozen time – temporarily,” she explains in a casual tone.

“
Fr-frozen t-time? H-how?” My voice is shaking uncontrollably.

She closes her eyes briefly and shakes her head. “You know how, Lucyna.”

“
You-you're really an angel.”

She nods.

“
Is-is everyone frozen?”

She throws her head back and laughs. “No. I’m not that powerful. I’ve just suspended time in here, except for you obviously.”

My eyes flick to James. “Is he . . . is he okay?”

“
He’s fine.” She waves her hand dismissively in James’ direction. “It’s just like he’s taking a nap. Anyway, to more pertinent matters, I am sorry to have scared you, Lucyna, but James wasn’t getting anywhere. I did think you’d listen to him but obviously not – so I thought I’d cut to the chase and, instead, show you that I am who I say I am. Do you now believe me?”

My mind is frantically trying to keep up and I’m unavoidably distracted by the statuesque sight of James. I swallow hard before managing an answer. “Yes.”

“
Good,” she says with a brisk nod of her head. “So, as James said, I’m here to help you try to retrieve your memories. We don’t need to go into the whys and where-fors, it’ll all be clear when you get your memories back – well if I can manage to get them back, but if it doesn’t work then I will explain everything to you – is that okay?”

I nod slowly.

“
Let’s get on with this, then.” She claps her hands together and James is instantly reanimated.

He looks confused. He opens his mouth to speak but Isabel cuts him off with a wave of her hand. “It’s okay, James. Lucyna understands now – don’t you?” Her green eyes are looking pointedly at me, “and we’re going to try to retrieve your memories, aren’t we?”

“
Yes,” I whisper in my weak voice.

My eyes move to James. He keeps looking between Isabel and me. He is confused, to put it mildly, but he says nothing.

And now I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. Isabel has proved beyond a shadow of a doubt what they’ve been saying is the truth. Which means he and I were together. He was my boyfriend. I must have loved him. And if Isabel can do what she says she can, then I’ll remember that. And it feels . . . strange. He’s really good looking, I can’t deny that. But to know that very soon I will feel overwhelming love for this stranger standing in front of me is . . . well it’s just plain weird.

“
Lucyna,” Isabel’s voice pulls me back to the here and now, “let’s get started, shall we?”

Reluctantly I pull my eyes from James to her. “What do you need me to do?”

She positions herself on the edge of my bed. “Sit down.” She pats the space in front of her. Gingerly I climb onto my bed. James, seemingly coming to his senses, sits himself down in the chair.

“
I need you to give me access to your mind,” she says. “You grant me permission and I’ll do my best to see if I can penetrate this wall that’s been put up to shield your memories from you.”

I feel a stab of panic. What if I don’t like what I remember? I must have forgotten everything for a reason – mustn’t I?

“
How did I lose my memory?” I ask, my voice jumping about with apprehension.

“
Someone stole it from you,” she says in a calm, even voice.

“
Who?”

She presses her lips together in tight line. “You’ll know soon enough.”

Her words do nothing to appease me or answer my question, but I find myself agreeing to do as she asks.

“
Right,” Her voice suddenly sounds very businesslike, “firstly you need to give me your permission.”

I take a deep breath. “You have my permission, Isabel.”

“
Now give me your hands . . .” I place my hands in her already outstretched ones, “and close your eyes.”

Before I do, I glance over at James. His eyes are fixed intensely on me.

“
Lucyna, close your eyes,” Isabel repeats, somewhat impatiently.

“
Oh, yes, of course.” I blink myself free and close my eyes, but not before I catch the heart-warming smile that appears on James’ lips.

“
Now, Lucyna, I need you to focus on that dense wall in your mind and push as hard as you can against it.”

I go to the blackness I’ve been inanely fighting against for all of this time, and do as she says.

“
Very good. Just keep doing that,” Isabel encourages me. But now, the words I hear are not shared, they’re inside my head.

She begins chanting in my mind, ‘Memoria solvo . . . memoria solvo’ over and over again.

I wait with bated breath for something to happen, and I wait, and wait.

Nothing’s happening. There’s no sudden return of my memories. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m not doing enough. I squeeze my eyes tighter shut, scrunching up my face and shove all my mental strength at the wall. I feel warmth trickle through my head but it disappears as quickly as it arrived.

Isabel releases her grip on my hands. “It’s not working,” she says, sounding frustrated.

I open up my eyes, feeling incredibly despondent.

“
Isn’t there something else you can try?” James asks hopefully.

She glances sideways at him. “Maybe.” She pauses, pondering a thought. “Well, I could try and use your energy to increase the power, James. But if I do, you’ll be weakened and feel unwell for quite some time afterwards.”

“
Do it,” he says without hesitation.

Compassion wells up inside me. “You don’t have to do this,” I say to him.

“
Yes I do.” He looks at me with those dark, unfathomable eyes of his and my stomach flips. “I want you back, Luce, and I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I say nothing.

Isabel gets up off the bed, walks around to the other side of it and stays standing. “Sit with your back to me,” she instructs. I do as she says, so now I’m sat facing James, my legs crossed in front of me. “James, take hold of Lucyna’s hands.”

He pulls his chair up close to the bed and puts his hands out for me to take. I slip my hands into his. And the instant my skin touches his, my whole body ignites and I know we fit together. My mind may not know him but my body most certainly does, and it’s telling me he is right. My skin is tingling and prickling. It’s a powerful and overwhelming sensation. I lift my blue eyes up to meet his dark ones and I see how they carry my reflection. And more than anything I desperately want to remember, for James’ sake as much as my own, because I know hidden somewhere in my mind are my feelings for him.

“
James, Lucyna, close your eyes.” Isabel’s voice comes from behind me, breaking the spell. She places her hands around my head. Reluctantly, I tear my gaze from James and close my eyes.

“
Now, James,” Isabel says softly. “Focus all your energy onto Lucyna, think about how you feel for her, think of the happy times you shared together, and let those thoughts flow from you straight into her. And, Lucyna, I need you to do as you did before, focus on breaking through that wall.”

Right, focus . . . focus. Break through that wall . . .

James does seem really lovely, nothing like the nut job I first thought he was. I mean, look at what he’s doing for me. And I wonder how we were together. I think we must have been happy. He seems to like me a lot. Well, hopefully I’ll know soon enough. Nothing seems to be happening in my head, though, just like before. I bet we look really weird, the three of us in this position. We probably look like we’re doing some form of weird meditation.

“
Concentrate, Lucyna!” Isabel's strict voice commands in my head. I feel like a naughty child that’s been caught out daydreaming in class by the teacher.

I snap myself out of my reverie and slip my mind into gear, focussing all my energy on getting my memories back and, at the click of a finger, I feel it. The warmth I felt before is rushing through my head but it is more intense this time. And it’s not only in my head, its flowing all around my body, coming up through my hands from James. His hands tighten around mine. I wonder if he can feel it too.

Isabel begins chanting in my mind again. This time the words are coming quicker and an accent is lacing her voice, “Memoria Solvo. Memoria Solvo. Memoria Solvo.”

I don’t know why, but I too find myself too echoing her words, and my head instantly feels very hot and light. I feel sick. And that’s when it happens. The wall starts to crumble and the memories flood into my mind.

And I know.

Who I am – was. I know James. I know everything.

My head is aching and my eyes feel heavy, but I force them open. James is the first thing I see. And the relief I feel at seeing him is immense, to say the least. I feel like I haven’t seen him for an eternity.

“
James.” His eyes flick open and I see how drained he looks. “I remember,” I say, and the relief that washes into his eyes makes mine fill with tears.

Isabel removes her hands from my head and I sense her stepping away from the bed. I launch myself into James’ arms and he holds me tight to him. I bury my face into his neck and breathe him in.

I’m finally home.

“
I thought I’d lost you for good,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

I lift my head up to look at him. His eyes are shining. “I’m so sorry.” Tears are now running down my face. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He holds my face in his hands, smoothing my tears away with his thumbs. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Then his hands are in my hair and he’s kissing every part of my face, my lips, my cheek, my forehead, my nose, every inch of my skin covered with his touch. “God, I’ve missed you, Luce.”