10

 

Niamh made her way to the front door, balancing on one crutch to open it. She’d been home about an hour and just settled on the sofa with a movie she hadn’t seen on the TV and a large mug of tea in her hand. The man standing on her doorstep looked familiar. If it was who she was thinking of, he’d aged and looked sick. “Hello?”

The tall, stocky greying man smiled and held out a hand. “Hi, Niamh. I’m Alan Reynolds.”

She smiled. She was right—it was the man she remembered. He was her boss. Wow, but he’d gotten old. She shook his hand. “It is you. I thought I recognized your name on the emails, but you’d only just started at the CPS from what I remember. I didn’t think for one minute you’d be the director now. Please, come in. Can I get you some tea or coffee?”

“No, thank you. I’m fine.”

She led the way down the hall and lowered herself into a chair. She leaned the crutches next to her. “So how are you? How’s Morag?” I hope she’s still his wife.

Alan sat opposite her with several case files on his lap. Sorrow flickered in his gaze as he opened his briefcase. “I’m fine. Morag’s not so good. She was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s a few years ago. It’s getting progressively worse.”

“I’m so sorry. That must be hard on you both.”

“It is. Now, in your email you mentioned coming back to work in the hope it would jog your memory a little. So, I brought a couple of your most recent cases over. I can’t leave them with you, obviously, but your notes and so on from your desk I can.” He handed them across to her.

She set the notebooks aside and leafed through the files asking questions as they came to her. She listened as he described her job and what she did all day long. It sounded the same as what she remembered, except she was doing the job her mentor, Toby Croft, had done.

“Was I really up for a judgeship? Jared mentioned it a couple of nights ago.”

“Yes. It’s quite an honor at your age.”

“I want to ask something. This file mentions death threats. Was this car crash related in any way?”

Consternation crossed Alan’s face. “Have the police not gotten back to you yet?”

“No. I gave them what statement I could, which was nothing really, but I haven’t heard anything. No one has.”

“Let me look into it for you. I know for a fact SOCO were investigating.”

“Thank you. What about coming back to work?”

“I, personally, don’t have a problem with you coming back as soon as you feel up to it, so long as the doctor has no objections. For obvious reasons, you can’t come back to exactly what you were doing before. Or to the same cases. However, Toby Croft is willing to help in any way he can.”

“Wow. Is Toby still there?”

Alan smiled. “He’s part of the furniture. If need be, he’ll take you on as his junior for a few weeks. We’ll assign you a few easy cases. Straight forward ones that won’t over exert you. Get you back into the swing of things gradually.”

Niamh baulked. “I’m not a child.”

“I’m not saying you are, Niamh, but you have forgotten—”

She cut him off. “I was fully qualified at twenty-six. You know that. OK, I may not remember how to be a senior prosecutor, but I’m not a rookie either. And I don’t need to be Toby’s junior assistant again, either.”

“I know that. But my concerns, and that of the bar, are that you have forgotten the last ten years. We just want to give you chance to relearn anything else you need to, ease back into the job. And Toby is best placed to help you with that. I know you don’t like the idea, but put yourself in my place. And in the shoes of the victims you’ll be getting justice for. If you were them, would you want the best prosecutor out there, or someone who can’t remember last month?”

Niamh nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I should be grateful I still have a job at all, right?”

Alan winked. “I wouldn’t go that far. And it won’t be long before you’re back at the helm, full steam ahead. You’ll see.”

She handed him the files back. “I need to get back to work, and some semblance of normality, rather than sit here and mope all day long.”

“Come in on Wednesday. Have a chat with Toby and myself and we’ll see where we go from there. We’ll fit in with your hospital appointments, so don’t worry about that.”

 

****

 

Niamh spent the two days going through her online blog, trying to glean as much information about herself and her life from it as possible. She didn’t like what she read.

Am I really as mean as these entries make out, Lord? The hatred just spills from them. Even the case files Alan gave me. My notes are disparaging. I don’t like who I was. Help me change. And if my memories ever do come back, don’t let me become her again.

Jared picked her up just after ten on Wednesday. She wasn’t going to admit it to anyone, but she’d missed his company the past couple of days. He held the door open as she climbed into the car. “There you go.”

“Thank you. How’s the decorating going?”

He winked. “Bit of a one person job to be honest.”

“Liam still useless?” she giggled.

“And the rest.” Jared laughed as he slid into the car beside her.

“He always was. Dad banned him from helping as there was always more paint on the carpet and on him than on the walls.”

“Sounds about right. How have you been?”

She remained silent.

“Niamh?”

She twisted in her seat. Reaching across, she laid a hand on top of his. “If I could take back every mean word I said to you, I would. I don’t know what I said, only that I hurt you very deeply. I can see that just by looking at you and hearing you speak. I’m really sorry. And yes, I know I said it before, but I still feel horrible. Reading this online journal I found, and emails I’ve sent, just made me feel worse. I wasn’t a very nice person. And not just to you either.”

He caught his breath. “There were times you were pretty mean, I’ll admit that. But you’re my wife and Liam and Patrick’s sister and we love you regardless.”

“The thing I don’t understand, is why?”

“Same reason God loves us even when we mess up.”

“I guess so, yeah.”

Jared parked outside the huge imposing grey and red brick offices of the CPS. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

Niamh raised an eyebrow. “Have you always been this much of a worry wart?”

“Yes. But worse today because you’re starting over.”

“Only technically. I know how to be a lawyer. I’ll be fine.” She smiled. “This is just a meeting to go over a few things, tell me who I’ll be working with and so on.”

“OK. I’ll come back at lunchtime and pick you up.”

“Sure, thanks. Shall I ring you?”

“No need. I’ll be here at one.”

“OK, thanks.” Niamh shot him a smile and slowly made her way up the stone steps and into reception. It even smelled the same. Her crutches tapped on the marble floor and echoed against the high vaulted ceiling.

The guard was on his feet before she was halfway across the lobby. “Mrs. Harkin, it’s lovely to see you again. How are you doing? We’ve all been so worried about you.”

She smiled. “I’m doing OK, Duncan. I didn’t expect to see you here still.” He’d been the guard when she first started working here.

“I’m part of the furniture now. The place would fall apart without me,” he joked.

“True. The boss should be expecting me.”

“Once you’ve signed in, I’ll let him know you’re on the way up.”

“Thank you.” Niamh signed her name in the huge book on the desk. “Is he still on the fourth floor?”

“He is.”

“Thank you.” She turned slowly and swung herself towards the elevators. She was getting quite fast on the crutches now, having mastered stairs, but there was a big difference between carpeted stairs at the house, and the stone ones she’d find here. As much as she hated elevators, it was the lesser of two evils. She pressed the button and waited.

The elevator came and she got in, pressing the button for the fourth floor. She watched the numbers change and as the elevator stopped, she exited the car and took a sharp left, straight into someone trying to get into the elevator. Papers flew everywhere and he gave out a sharp grunt. Niamh looked up, her cheeks burning. “Oh, I’m sorry—”

She broke off, staring at the tall blond man in a blue suit. His piercing lavender eyes glinted in anger. It was him, the man from her dreams, but she still couldn’t remember his name.

“So you should—Niamh?” The man’s firm hand gripped hers, pulling it off the crutch and pumped it several times. “How are you? I was really worried when I heard you’d been injured.” His eyes raked over her, making her feel more than a little uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry. I don’t…do I know you?”

“Miles. Miles Kingsman. We’ve worked together on several cases.”

“It’s nice to meet you, but I’m afraid I don’t remember you.” Niamh disengaged her hand, wishing she could wipe it on the tracksuit trousers she’d worn over her cast. “I’m having a little trouble with my memory since the car crash, although the doctors say it will come back. It’s just a matter of time.”

He bent, gathering his papers. “That’s good. Other than that, how are you? It was a nasty car crash.”

“I’m OK. I’m mending slowly.”

“Good, good. Maybe we could do lunch some time. Catch up, renew our friendship.” His fingers ran over her arm, sending goose bumps rippling through her.

“I don’t know.”

“At least think about it.”

Another voice echoed down the hallway. “Niamh, I’m glad you could make it. I’ve got tea and cakes laid on in my office. Toby is starving as always.”

Niamh turned, grateful for the interruption. “Alan. You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble of cakes. But it sounds wonderful.” She balanced on one crutch, returning his brief hug. “I’m doing OK, a little sore, but OK.”

He laughed. “Answering the question before it’s asked. Come down to the office, before Toby eats all the cakes.”

Niamh nodded and turned back to Miles, but he’d gone. Hmmm, well he could have said goodbye. Especially as he appears to know me rather well, if I was reading him right.

She turned back to Alan and walked down the hallway to his office. “I feel like the new kid on her first day at school.”

“You’ll be fine. It’s like riding a bicycle. Once you learn you never forget. How’s Jared?”

“Ummm, yeah, he’s fine as far as I know. Jared’s living at Liam’s for a bit.”

Alan stopped and turned to stare at her, his face unreadable. “Why?”

“He’s helping Liam decorate, and we decided it’s for the best, until my memory comes back.” She paused. “Thing is, I don’t know him and although we get on, it’s just uncomfortable living with someone—living with a bloke that I’m not married to. And before you say I am married to him, I don’t remember.”

She looked away. “Don’t remember him or the wedding or how we met or what it was about him that attracted me to him initially.”

“So you kick him out and take off the rings? That isn’t very Christian of you. Try to see it from his point of view.”

“Try seeing it from mine. I don’t know him. And according to everyone I’ve spoken to, we weren’t exactly on the best of terms before the car crash.” She pulled her chain from under her jumper and showed him. “Besides, I’m still wearing the ring…just not the way he and the rest of the world want right now.”

Alan’s expression sent shivers down her spine and he held up his left hand with the worn wedding band on. “My wife doesn’t know me, either. I had to put her in a home because the dementia has reached a point where she needs twenty-four hour care. She’ll never know who I am, except for maybe a brief glimpse of clarity once in a while, when all she does is apologize for being a burden. Yet I have no intention of turning my back on my vows or taking off my ring. You have a chance to start over with Jared. Don’t waste it.”

She nodded slowly, following him into the office.

Toby was every bit as pedantic and methodical as she remembered. Working under him again was going to be a struggle, as she hadn’t enjoyed it the first time. But if that’s what it took, she’d do it.

On her way out of the building, she noticed Miles Kingsman leaning against a pillar. At her slow approach he pushed up and sauntered over to her. “Can I help you with those?” He jerked his head to her briefcase.

“No, I got it. Thank you.”

“In that case how about lunch? I know this place that does the most amazing Mexican food.”

“I can’t. I’m being collected.”

“Then another time. We could catch up. I could fill in some of the gaps you may have.” His hand was warm on her arm and she shivered. He was persistent if nothing else.

“OK,” she agreed. Maybe this would get him off her back. And maybe he could answer some questions. He must mean something to be in her dreams and one of the few people she remembered looking the way they did now. “But just lunch. How about next Tuesday?” That would fit in with Jared’s shift pattern.

“Tuesday’s good. Twelve thirty at Mancinis? Do you remember where it is?”

She nodded. “I’ll find it. See you then.” She signed out and headed outside to where Jared was waiting.

 

****

 

Niamh didn’t see Jared for a couple of days, as he was busy decorating and working, including the Sunday, so Liam took her to church. Tuesday, she got a cab to the appointed place at the right time. Miles had offered to pick her up, but she refused, wanting to pay her own way. She arranged for the cab driver to come back for her in an hour and a half. That should be plenty long enough and avoid having to decline a lift home.

Miles was waiting at the table and rose as the maître d’ showed her over to a table by the window. This place was way too classy for her, and she felt more than a little uncomfortable. A waft of aftershave washed over her as Miles moved around to pull out her chair for her. “Hey, how are you?”

“Fine, thank you.” She sat and leaned her crutches against the table. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” He sat down again. “I took the liberty of ordering for you.”

“Oh.” The uncomfortable feeling grew. “That was rather presumptive of you.”

He jerked his head. “Well, I figured as I know what you like as we’ve been here before…” He shot her a charming smile, which reminded her of a snake. Coiled and ready to pounce. “I also ordered you a white wine.”

“I don’t drink.”

“Since when?”

“Since the accident. I don’t like the taste of it anymore. I don’t drink coffee now, either.” She looked up as the waiter brought their plates of food over. “Could I have some apple juice, please?”

“Of course, madam.” The waiter set the plates down and left.

She looked down at the plate. Her stomach turned. “What’s this?”

“Curried scallops with black olive, almond, carrot and lime puree.”

Niamh looked down at the plate and closed her eyes, saying grace silently. Then she cautiously cut the scallop and tried it. At first thought, it seemed undercooked and cold. Then she realized with horror that it was raw. Somehow she managed to force a bite down.

Miles’s conversation seemed to consist mainly of his current case. Sure, that wasn’t ethical, she nevertheless listened politely. The main course came. Lamb with parsnip puree, beetroot, broad beans and a spiced jus. Did she really like this food? And what was it with all the puree? That was what you gave babies when first weaning them.

She poked the lamb, to find blood spurt onto her plate. Ewww, it was rare? Didn’t the chef know how to cook anything properly? She found herself longing for Jared’s home cooked meat and two veg, and his quiet, unassuming manner.

A hand dropped on her shoulder. She glanced up to see Liam, his face icy. She smiled. “Hey, Li.”

“What are you doing here?” His tone matched his eyes.

“Probably the same as you are. I’m having lunch.”

“Can I have a word? Over here?”

Niamh put her serviette on the table. “Sure. Excuse me a minute.” She pulled herself to her feet and followed Liam across the room. “What’s wrong?”

He stopped four tables away and stared at her. “Does Jared know you’re here?”

“No he doesn’t, and so what if he did? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re married.” He pointed to the ring around her neck.

“Liam, this is lunch. With a friend. I’m sure you have lunch with people other than Jacqui and she doesn’t blow a gasket over it.”

“Do you actually know or remember him?”

She sighed. “Look, remember the other day I asked if I were seeing someone other than Jared?” He nodded and she carried on speaking. “Right, well, I keep having flashes of a blond man with lavender eyes. He even pops into my dreams occasionally. This is him. I figured maybe over lunch he’d say something to jog my memory, but all I found out so far is I really don’t like high end dining, no matter what he says. I know him from work. His name is Miles Kingsman.”

“You never mentioned him before.” His hand rested on her arm and the ice in his eyes and voice was replaced by deep concern.

“Yeah, well, there’s probably nothing to it. If you don’t mind, I’m going back to my lunch before it gets cold.” She paused. “Not that it was particularly hot or cooked properly, anyway.”

Liam hugged her. “There’s something about him, Niamh. I don’t like him.”

“You don’t know him. Did Jared send you here to spy on me?”

“Now you’re being silly. I’m just looking out for my baby sister.”

She hugged him awkwardly. “Says he who’s a whole ten minutes older than me.”

“Fifteen minutes, actually.”

“Whatever.” She kissed him. “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine and the only concern is I might die of hunger.”

“You really don’t like the food?”

“Raw scallops and undercooked lamb? Ewww, no way. Don’t tell the chef, but I’m ordering pizza soon as I get home.”

Liam laughed and she waved as she made her way back over to the table.

“Is everything all right?” Miles asked.

She eased back into her seat. “Everything’s fine. So where were we?”

 

****

 

Jared pulled a clean tee-shirt from his locker over his head and grabbed his mobile phone as it rang. He checked the screen and smiled. “Hey, Liam. Checking up on me now?”

“Not this time. Jared. You’ve got a rival for Niamh’s affections. She was in that fancy place on the High Street with some bloke she insisted she knew from before the car crash.”

“Did you get a name?”

“Miles Kingsman. He’s someone she knows from work.”

“Is he blond?” he asked hesitantly. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know or not.

“Yes.”

Jared swallowed hard, nausea rising. That would make him the bloke Niamh remembers. What’s so special about him? Why does she remember him and not me?

“She’s hoping he might jog her memory, but I don’t like the guy. Tried telling her, but she wasn’t having it.”

He sighed. “She never does listen once she decides to do something. You know that almost as well as I do.”

“Well, this time you have to make her listen. Fight for her, or you’re going to lose her. There is something about this guy. I’ve got the same feeling I did about Vince, and you know how that ended up.”

“Yeah.” Jared remembered all too well how Liam almost died several times once Vince came on the scene. And the way Niamh woke screaming in pain in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat adamant someone was electrocuting her. “I’ll talk to her when I get off shift tonight. And speaking of work there goes the alarm. Got to run. Bye.”

 

****

 

Niamh was about to go to bed when she heard the key in the door and pulled herself up. She wasn’t expecting Jared tonight, but something flared within her at the prospect of seeing him. She’d missed him. But the man who stood in front of her wasn’t the one she was expecting. He was filthy. Soot in his hair and smudges on his face. “Jared?”

His hands shook as he stood there, not saying anything. He’d never come home like this before, she was sure of it.

“Are the showers at the station not working?”

Still he didn’t say anything.

“Jared, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

His tongue ran over his lips. “Bad day,” he managed. “Needed to…”

She crossed over to him, and dropping one crutch, pulled him into a hug. He clung to her, the smell of smoke almost overpowering. His body convulsed as he leaned against her, huge sobs welling up and engulfing him. Tightening her grip, she held him, not sure what else she could do or say to help.

After a few minutes, he pulled back. Embarrassment flared in his cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t know who else to go to.”

“It’s OK. Want some coffee?”

“Please.” He bent and handed her back the crutch. “Mind if I grab a quick shower?”

“Course not. It’s your house as much as mine. More so as you pay the mortgage. Your towels are still in the bathroom. I’ll go make the coffee.”

She watched him head upstairs and then went into the kitchen. What had upset him so much? She shuddered. That smell…she knew that smell.

The smoke, thick, black, pervading everything, took away her vision. Voices echoed, someone screamed. Her hand felt along the wall, trying to find a way out. The choking blackness clung and stole the air she was trying to breathe…

“Coffee smells good.”

His voice jerked her from her thoughts, and she slid the mug across to him. “Here.”

“Thank you.” He downed it like a drowning man gulps air and then refilled it. “It was a really bad day…afternoon. Huge fire…” His voice cracked and his eyes glistened. “We lost one firefighter, two more injured. Not from my watch, but another crew.”

“I’m so sorry.” She put a hand on his arm.

“It looks like arson. Just hope they catch whoever…” He covered his face with his hands, a visible struggle for control going on inside him. “And Liam rang, caught me just before I left on the shout.”

“Oh.”

“He told me…told me you were seeing someone else.”

Niamh stood there, unsure what to say or do. Before she had chance to do either, Jared’s hands gripped her arms. His face inches away from hers. Despite the anger in his eyes, she wasn’t scared. His gaze searched hers intently.

“You’re my wife.” His voice low and with a depth of emotion she hadn’t heard before.

“Jared…”

“Mine.” His lips pressed hard upon hers. She’d imagined him kissing her, trying to remember what it was like, but not like this. In her mind it had been soft and gentle, but she could feel the power of his emotions coming through. A mix of rage, grief and desperation, but beneath that something else, something far more powerful and intense.

Well, two could play that game. Not to be outdone, she dropped the crutches and kissed him back fully, one hand holding him for support, the other winding through his hair. She parted her lips, and Jared deepened the kiss, possessing her, until her head spun and her heart pounded.