Jogging Memories Ch. 06

"Well, good for you, I am sure Dr Harding will be pleased to sign you off and get you home the sooner the better, possibly even tomorrow. You will have to see what your wife thinks about taking you back in as a stranger, she might have some reservations, herself. There's also the effect this could have on your children."

"True, we have already discussed how my memory loss might effect the children. Jennifer is going to talk to them today after school at teatime. If she thinks it advisable, she will bring them along tonight. She is going to see how they feel about it all once she has given them an update on my condition. Apparently she - we - have close friends who can look after the children if she decides not to bring them. Jennifer thought that the youngest son might be the one who has the biggest reservations. The older boy has his own problems and will barely notice mine." Tommy grinned at that, vividly remembering when he was that age. "And the girl is, apparently, 'Daddy's Girl', who will accept me at any price."

"Sounds perfect," Dr Phoebe smiled, "Seems as though between you and your wife, you have it covered. When you are released by Doctor Harding, will you be attending outpatients here, or in Buxton?"

"I don't know at the moment. My problem is that I do not know if I have a legal license to drive, and if I have, whether I can remember how to drive with confidence. Back in 1981, I went everywhere by bus. I might have to get Jen to bring me over here if I intend attending the Royal. I am happy with Dr Harding, he seems like the right guy to check me over rather than break in somebody new. And you are pretty cool too, Doc."

"Mmm, well if you are happy to, of course, then we can continue the consultation process in outpatients. Yours is certainly an interesting case that I'd like to see through to its conclusion. Anyway, I'll set the gears in motion. Otherwise, I will see you tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Doc, I'll see you then."

<<<>>>

At breakfast, before school, Jennifer told the children individually, as they came down to breakfast, about their father. JJ was in tears and wanted to have the day off school to visit her father immediately, but Jennifer dampened them all down and said she would take them all up in the car on Tuesday night. Jennifer made no mention of Bob's previous identity, only that he was suffering from amnesia, which they hoped would be temporary, and that at first he couldn't be expected to recognise them.

Then Jennifer called Amos at Bob's factory to tell him that Bob might not be in for a couple of weeks, citing a running injury which had aggravated the original cut and had hospitalised him for more than a week. Then she called the doctor's surgery and told them why she wouldn't be in to work for the next couple of weeks due to a serious injury to Bob. Of course, they were all very understanding.

<<<>>>

Jennifer was held up in the morning rush hour traffic, which was much heavier than she expected. She didn't get to the hospital until after half past nine and discovered that she had missed the Doctors' rounds that she would have preferred not to.

"Sorry I am so late, Bob, honey, and have missed the doctors' rounds. Ben at the desk told me they have already been and gone," she breathed heavily, breathless from running up two flights of stairs, "The traffic was horrendous this morning."

"That's fine, Jennifer," Tommy/Bob smiled at her as he rose from the chair to greet her. "You're here now and safe. You didn't actually miss much, except ... if my blood levels are consistent all day today, and again first thing in the morning, they tell me, I can leave here as soon as tomorrow."

"Oh, that's great!" she said as she hugged him, "Did they say when they would make the decision to release you?"

"Not until the morning rounds, I'm afraid, so it'll be short notice."

"Oh well, that's better than nothing. Look, the children are coming up here to see you tonight. I've explained about your head injury and the effect it has had wiping out your entire memory. I've told them it is around twenty years; I thought that would reduce complications."

"Yes, I can see that," he smiled, "It's for the best."

"It'll be so good to have you home, love," Jennifer flashed a smile and squeezed his hand, "I have been thinking how best to handle it. By moving Tigger in with Tom from tonight, we don't have to have any awkward 'sleeping together' issues until you are completely comfortable with that."

"I don't want to make things difficult, Jen, for anyone. I want to be the cause of as little disruption to family life as possible. I'm sure we could manage to share a bedroom if we had to, without er, you know ... if you agree?" Bob smiled.

"I would definitely be in favour of us sharing our bed, to be as normal a couple as possible in the circumstances."

"Do I have pyjamas at home?"

"No, we both sleep naked, normally. We have quite a well-insulated and warm house. I do have some warm nightdresses, which I wear when you are working nights during the winter. That's when I miss you most of all, you are like a hot water bottle! I could get you a couple of pairs of pyjamas from Primark on the way home today."

"I know this will seem odd to you, Jen, but I have to ask. I mean were we a ... normal married couple and active, er, sex-wise?"

"Yes, we were, sweetheart, and I hope we will be once more, and soon," Jennifer insisted, "It is an important part of our relationship and I want it to continue. It's been over a week since..."

<<<>>>

"Why are we here, JJ?" Tom complained, waving the café's tea and coffee menu in his younger sister's face, "Dad's coming back soon, and we are visiting him tonight. Mum said that to us this morning at breakfast, so ... end of problem."

"Were you born stupid, or did stupidity leach into you from that dumb blonde Susannah?" JJ snarled, thinking with some annoyance that her brother should be taking the lead here, not her having to do everything, he was the eldest, after all.

"Leave Suze outta this, I don't even know how I am gonna begin to explain all this to her."

"You'd probably need to draw pictures, using one of her many lipsticks, every time I see her she's wearing a different shade, she must've dozens!"

"Yeah, maybe," Tom drawled, "Come to think of it, JJ, are you wearing lip gloss?"

"No!" she exclaimed, colouring up, "A ... er, just a little bit of lip salve, against these cold, damp mornings. It's to stop my lips cracking ... it can a very painful complaint."

"Yeah, right. And you've pinned your hair back, too, showing more of your bleedin' physog." Tom noticed, "Tig an' me didn't even recognise you when we first came in the caff."

"Yeah, you deff look diff, Sis," piped in Tigger, "Can we get on? It's alright for you guys to miss classes, you both bunk off all the bloody time. I mean, you're leaving college to get married and find a job," he pointed at Tom, then, with a shake of the head towards his sister, "And you're a given a year early next year for Uni, JJ, while I'm missing Double English right now, which I could easily fail."

"We are all missing the big picture here, boys," JJ hissed, leaning across the table close to her brothers' heads, "If Dad leaves Mum, there won't be any money for Uni, or help with your wedding, it'll all be taken up by legal costs and finding two places to live in instead of just one. Our lives are going to change drastically. Do you get it yet, smart-arses?"

"Yeah, I get it, whatever," Tigger muttered.

"So what's this got to do with us?" Tom moaned, "I'm moving out in January anyway and Suze's parents are gonna be payin' for the actual shindig."

"OK, Brainbox, so if our parents don't manage to stump up the deposit for the flat you've both been searching for the last two months, where are you going to live then, huh?"

"Oh, shit!" the very first thought of moving in with Susannah's overbearing mother and hen-pecked father, which had never even remotely occurred to him during his courtship, suddenly loomed rite large, filling him with dread, "Whaddever we gonna do, JJ? We gotta do sommink!"

CHAPTER TWELVE: Sally aware

"This line is so clear, sweetheart, it's like you were just acrost town," Ann Barlow spoke into the telephone mouthpiece in reply to the hesitant "Hello?" greeting from her ex-daughter-in-law.

"Mum ... is that you?" Sally's crystal clear voice came back over the wire, "Is everything all right? Are you OK?"

Sally wondered why the call now, in the middle of the week. She usually called Brett's grandmother at Christmas and birthdays, almost never the other way round. The last time Sally got a call from Ann was when Alan died. There was no other family left in the Old Country. Sally had helped her own parents, Mum first and then Dad after his second divorce, over to live in Melbourne twelve and ten years ago respectively. She had offered to bring Alan and Ann over at the time she recalled; Ann was keen, but Alan loved his Notts County football team too much to leave England. Sally didn't have enough time to go back to Nottingham for Alan's funeral but had reiterated her offer to pay the cost of bring Ann over at the time, even for a holiday. In the end Ann decided to stay put.

"Yes, yes, Sally, my leg's been playing me up a bit, that's all. It's this damp weather at the beginning of winter what gets into my bones. What's it like down there in Melbourne?"

"It's a bright spring morning, clear skies. It looks like it's going to be a hot one." Sally was sure Ann would do so much better over here in this climate.

"That's nice, dear, is Brett doing much sailing?"

"As much as he can, Mum," Sally laughed, an image of Brett doing what he loved most easily popping into her head, "But this is his busiest work time of the year, getting boats ready for the summer."

"Sally, I had to ring, dear," Ann breathed in and out deeply before continuing, "Are you sitting down, sweetheart?"

"No, I'm in the kitchen preparing John's breakfast. Why, Mum? You've really got me worried, now."

"Go and sit down, please, Sally, I've got some news for you, well, for both you and Brett."

Sally staggered into the lounge and sat down, already her knees were trembling and she needed to take the weight off her legs. There could only be one reason for news from the Old Country which concerned both herself and her son if, as Ann had said, she was fine; and that was someone must have finally found Tommy's body. Finally, the end of the mystery after all these fruitless years of waiting. Did she really want to know? She had virtually given up all hope so many years ago. Yes, she decided, it would be a relief to know, a finishing off, closure, at last.

A lump formed in Sally's throat as she croaked, "I am sitting down in the lounge now, Mum."

"They've found Tommy in hospital!" Ann said cheerfully, almost matter-of-factly.

"What?" Sally exclaimed, completely confused by the combination of the content, which was half-expected, and the tone of Brett's grandmother's voice, which was not. "What do you mean they've found him in hospital?"

"Tommy," Ann continued, joyously, "He's alive and well, I saw him yesterday. He's in hospital but he's absolutely fine. ... Sally, are you there?"

Sally had fainted dead away, dropping the phone to bump on the carpet in front of her settee. Her husband John Rahn found her still completely out of it when he emerged from the bathroom a couple of minutes later.

<<<>>>

Sharon parked at the hospital and bought a parking token for two hours, unsure of what her welcome would be in the ward this afternoon. She knew that Tommy's wife, or should that be Bob's wife ... it was so confusing, this memory loss ... would be at the hospital again later today.

It was about an hour before normal visiting times so Sharon hoped the nurses would still let her in a little earlier, as she and her daughter had been permitted before and had become such regular visitors. She had seen Tommy's wife yesterday evening, just from the doorway. Sharon hadn't wanted to interfere, nor did she particularly want to speak to her. It was silly, Sharon knew. Petty, even. There was no reason why Tommy would want to see her anyway, he had his wife Jennifer back now, a younger and more attractive woman than both Sharon and Helen had naturally assumed at the outset.

Sharon knew she simply couldn't compete with his wife for Tommy's affections. Sharon had lost her husband to a much younger woman before and that was a good couple of years ago, so what chance did she think she had against Tommy's wife? She had to get used to the idea that she just couldn't compete in the marketplace for a handsome husband or partner anymore.

"Sharon, good mornin'," came a familiar cheerful voice from behind her as she walked down the main hospital corridor on the ground floor.

She turned, seeing the nurse Ben approach, "Hi, Ben, do you never have any time off from this place?"

"Overtime, Sharon, someone has to pay the rent, my junior brother is between jobs, again."

"Oh, I see, are you just on your way up to the ward?"

"No, they are fully staffed up there this morning. I'm doin' a shift in one of the geriatric wards today, in another wing what branches off just up here on the left." Ben grinned and pointed with his hand. They walked along a dozen more steps before Ben commented, "I may wander up there later, just to check on my favourite patient, mind. Now, I know you came to visit but didn't go in yesterday evenin'. I saw you. Tommy always loves to see you, you know, Sharon."

"Well, he's got other visitors now. I can't compete with first his Mum and then his wife."

"I don't think you should regard it as a competition, Sharon. Tommy has lost virtually everythin' that he once knew. The friends that he remembers from his youth, his first wife and even his dad passed on him. His son and grandchildren that he ain't never met are a long way away. He don't recognise his present wife at all, and he ain't even met his children yet. You an' Helen are still his oldest mates that he sees. He'll be devastated hearin' he's lost you two as friends too, just 'cause you think that you shouldn't get in the way."

"I hadn't thought of it like that. Thank you, Ben, you are a comfort."

"We aim to please in the NHS," he grinned.

They had stopped walking, at the entrance to Ben's ward for the day, Sharon reached up to the big man and kissed him on the cheek, "Thank you, Ben, you are a sweetheart."

"Go on with you, girl, you're killin' my reputation, I like to leave my women weepin', not smilin' as we part!"

"Get off with you, when are you officially due back to the other ward?"

"Tomorrow."

"See you then, if Tommy's still there."

"He'll be there until the doctors' rounds, don't you worry your pretty head about that."

<<<>>>

The ringing phone awoke Ann Barlow, who was dozing in her favourite chair. She awoke with a start, not quite sure what time of day it was, or even what day. There was a routine to the days in the sheltered accommodation and yesterday, she remembered, they had bingo in the early evening but she had been too tired to pay full attention and one of her friends had gleefully pointed out every time she had missed a number and on one occasion a winning line.

But she smiled as she recalled the reason for her tiredness. Tommy, her only boy, who she had written off all those years ago as "probably dead in a ditch", had turned up alive and well after disappearing without trace over thirty years ago. Then guilt flooded over her in waves. You are supposed to hold out hope for deliverance of a missing child forever. Hold that hope for all time, like Alan always had. Alan had poured over the local and county papers every week down at the library. He learned how to use the computers, when the library eventually had them, to continue his search for his only son. He wrote countless letters to engineering firms trying to find him, in case he popped up working a lathe somewhere locally. He had never given up hope, Ann recalled sadly, never. Alan took his hopes with him to the grave.

Ann never told Alan that she had lost all hope long before, worn down by what had become a fruitless and wearing exercise. She was just as certain that Tommy was dead and buried as Alan was convinced that their only child was still alive and well. Alan's hope became obsessive. It ate away at him, rather than inspired him. The effort aged the man, bent his frame over with disappointment, whittled away at his strength and eventually debilitated him.

Alan had become hell to live with those last ten years. As Ann's own hopes for Tommy leached away, so inevitably did her love for Alan. As her husband became more embittered by his lack of progress, Ann felt increasingly trapped living with him and began to resent him, even grew to hate her husband towards the end.

Now, she was the one who was able to benefit from Tommy's rediscovery. Ann, the mother, who had long ago given up her son for dead. She was the lone parent who was reaping the harvest of joy in his prodigal return; and it was the eternally hopeful Alan who was dead and buried, gone for good. He would have so loved the reunion with Tommy yesterday. Alan would have been full of it, revelling in the righteousness of his unshakeable hope over impossible expectation. He might even have become her old Alan again, the strong, tall, handsome man with the twinkle in his eyes that she fell in love with, nearly sixty years ago. Guilt, Ann decided, was hard to live with, but she had to learn how.

And that phone kept ringing.

"Hello?" she answered hesitatingly. Ann hated the telephone. They never had one at home until Alan insisted on installing one immediately after Tommy disappeared. When she was relocated to the sheltered flat, after Alan died, the council transferred her phone too. The only people she ever spoke to on the telephone were Sally and Brett in Melbourne.

"Hi Gran," came the cheery Australian-accented voice, so far away yet sounding so immediately nearby.

"Brett!" exclaimed Ann, "You always ring on the first Sunday in the month, dear, so I wasn't expecting to hear from you today. Is your mother alright?"

"Yeah, she's right as rain now, Gran," he laughed, his deep, warm voice reminiscent of her Alan of old, "John found her just a minute or two after you had spoken to her. She's not crock, but John's put her to bed anyway and called the quack, just in case. The Doc's woken her up and given her a tab to help her sleep, ha! ha!"

"I am so sorry to have upset her, Brett-"

"No worries, Gran," Brett interrupted, "It weren't your fault. Look, however she heard the news about ... Dad, would've given her the heebie-jeebies for sure. I have a good mind to knock his block off meself and he never actually hurt me! I had nothing to miss all these years."

"Oh, Brett, you can't blame him for leaving you. Your Dad didn't even know you were born. Dr Holland thought he may have lost his memory twice."

"Twice?" Brett's voice went up an octave, "Whaddyer mean, Gran, 'twice'?"

"Lost his memory this week, your Dad did, so that he has forgotten the last thirty-two years, dear," Ann said soothingly, "The Doc thinks he may have suffered some sort of trauma back then, before you were born, and lost his first set of memories. Now he has suffered another head impact through a severe beating. Tommy was kicked in the head, which blotted out the new memories and brought back his old ones."

"Beating? Kicked in the head? What the devil's he been involved with, Gran?"

"Tommy tried to stop two young men from attacking a young girl who was out running in the woods. They had dragged her off the main path. Your Dad dived in without thinking about his own safety and they beat up, left him for dead. The girl got away from them, though."