Life as I Know It (26 page)

After a moment, I crept over to the bed and perched on the edge of the duvet. Tentatively, I reached out a trembling hand and touched her cool cheek. It was strange, looking at myself as others must see me. Gently lifting a lock of her brown hair, I felt an odd, almost familial sort of love toward this person who was really me.

Reluctantly withdrawing my hand, I stood up and went to the wardrobe that stood in the corner of the room and removed a pair of jeans, a hooded sweatshirt, and a pair of jogging bottoms. Then, laying them over my arm, I took a last look around the slumbering flat before letting myself out.

On the way home, the sky grew gradually lighter as I went from one time frame to another. By the time I was passing Guildford again it was just past two-thirty in the afternoon. Being familiar with these shops, I headed for the town center, parked the car in a handy spot near the bus station, and hurried to the nearest shoe shop, where a harassed assistant gave me a brochure packed full of the latest preteen shoes. I stopped off in Marks & Spencer to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water, which I ate and drank in the car while another driver apparently waiting to park in my space threw disgusted looks at me.

I arrived home just after 3:45 and sat in the driveway while the car clicked and cooled around me, collecting my thoughts and digesting the Richardson residence in my mind. Home. It was a sobering thought. The age-old adage “home is where the heart is” flickered through my mind. I thought of Sophie, Nicole, Toby, and Teddy, and then of Dan and Frankie, and felt the now familiar hot prickle of tears beneath my eyelids.

I heard the front door open and blinked rapidly, clearing my vision as Karen stuck her head out and called to me.

“Lauren?”

I climbed out of the car and straightened up as Karen descended on me, hugging me to her ample bosom.

“What happened?” she hissed in a loud whisper as we stood in a huddle in the driveway. “Are you all right?”

“It was weird.” I raised my face and tried to hold back the tears again. “I saw myself asleep. I mean, I knew this was happening to me, but to actually see myself from someone else’s perspective, well, it’s really difficult to come to terms with.”

“So your theory was right then?”

I nodded.

She let go of me and glanced at the armful of clothing. “Are those what I think they are?”

“Lauren has no casual clothes,” I said, shrugging.” I thought these might fit since we’re pretty much the same size.”

“I’m not sure it’s healthy,” she said as I followed her into the house. “Mixing her clothing with yours. Quite apart from the fact that the whole business is decidedly odd, how will you survive as two separate identities if you start merging the two lives together?”

“I wish I could merge them,” I muttered to her back. “Then I could have the best of both worlds.”

Grant stepped out from the kitchen into the hall, making us both start.

“Where have you been all this time, sweetheart?” I turned to face him, startled by his sudden appearance. “You’ve been gone ages. I thought something had happened to you.”

“I told you,” I said, holding up the clothing and trying not to look as guilty as I felt. “I went shopping.”

“Where’s your shopping bag then?”

“It’s, er, in the car,” I said quickly. I wasn’t sure why Grant
was acting so strangely. It was almost as if he knew I hadn’t been where I said I had. I remembered him drunkenly accusing me of seeing another man the other night.

“So what’s this about wanting the best of both worlds?” he said, as if he were trying to make a joke of it. “What’s this secret life you’d like to indulge?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He poked at the clothing in my arms and made a face. “You wouldn’t normally be seen dead in stuff like that.”

“I needed something for when I’m playing with the children,” I replied. “I can hardly catch rabbits in Jaeger or Chanel, now, can I?”

“You’re so different,” he said, spinning me around and holding me at arm’s length. “You look like Lauren, but you’re just not the same person you were before.”

I stared down at my feet, unable to look him in the eye.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to love me again?” he asked quietly.

I heard the kitchen door close and realized that Karen had made herself scarce. Grant reached out a hand and lightly touched my hair. “Well?”

“I don’t know,” I said miserably. “Everything seems so complicated.”

“You loved me once,” he said. “Can’t you find it in your heart to try to recapture those feelings? I’m not an ogre, you know.”

“I don’t dislike you,” I ventured. “Maybe in time…”

He brightened visibly at the half promise. “Really?”

“Maybe… in time,” I repeated. “Now, if you are all ready, we were going to take the children to the cinema, I believe, and we’re going to be late.”

The children seemed as pleased to see me as I was to see them. Nicole threw her arms around me and told me that she had been playing with Ginny most of the day, but now both the animals were fed, watered, and back in the hutch in the shed. Toby announced he wanted a guinea pig, too, but added that he would make it sit in the cab of his truck or drive his digger. I said I thought he should wait another year until he was a bit better able to look after it.

I hurriedly emptied the contents of the washing machine into the dryer, realizing that the washing pile was mounting, while Grant was putting on his shoes and Karen was collecting the children’s coats. I felt a tug at my trousers and glanced down to see Teddy grinning up at me. I realized I’d only seen him smile a couple of times before and the sight warmed my heart.

“We’re going to the cinema,” I told him. “Are you excited?”

He shrugged and pulled at my trousers more urgently, his ball clutched in his other hand.

“Do you want to show me something?”

He nodded.

I turned the dryer on and followed Teddy into the playroom.

He dragged me over to the new table and pointed to the picture that he’d drawn. I stared at it and gasped in astonishment.

“Why, Teddy, is that me?”

The likeness was uncanny. The picture was unmistakably Lauren, with her features cleverly caught in pencil. The hair had been drawn in yellow and the eyes in green. But they weren’t Lauren’s eyes, they were Jessica’s. My eyes, as I’d first seen them staring out of Lauren’s face in the hospital a week ago.

Glancing over my shoulder, I checked to see that Grant wasn’t in the room. He might seem unobservant of his wife’s eye color—in fact I wondered how many men, if asked, could say
with any certainty the exact color of their wife’s or girlfriend’s eyes—but seeing Teddy’s picture accentuating the greenness might jog some forgotten memory. Grant would almost certainly get a shock if he compared it to the blue of his wife’s eyes in their wedding photo.

Perhaps I could say I was wearing colored contacts if he challenged me, I thought. I dismissed the idea immediately. Why would I do that? I wondered if there was any documented evidence of people’s eye color changing naturally, maybe even a case of it happening to a lightning-strike victim.

Teddy was scrutinizing me closely. His grin had faded, replaced by a look of puzzlement.

“It’s wonderful, Teddy,” I managed rather belatedly. “Really, really good. You are a clever boy.”

He continued to watch me. I could hear Grant calling us from the hall. Then, very slowly and carefully, Teddy picked up a blue crayon and colored over the portrait’s eyes so that the green was barely visible beneath a sea of blue.

“Mummy,” he said, pointing at the amended picture.

“Thank you, Teddy,” I replied. He had drawn a picture of his real mother and not me at all. I took his hand in mine. “That’s much better.”

The film was a huge success. The children talked excitedly about it and even Grant seemed reasonably content as he drove the packed car homeward.

“I’ll get the children’s supper and put them to bed if you want to get ready to go out,” Karen volunteered as we sped along.

“They probably won’t want any supper,” Grant said. “I don’t know why you and Lauren encouraged them to have all that popcorn.”

“I want Mummy to read the bedtime story when we get home,” Toby announced.

“Of course I will,” I promised. “We’ll all get ready then I’ll read to you before Daddy and I go out.”

“Mummy,” Teddy said slowly from the backseat. “Mummy.”

It sounded as if he were trying the word out, rolling it around his tongue, and I braced myself for what unfortunate revelation might follow.

“Yes, Teddy?”

“I like you read my story.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head back on the front passenger seat’s headrest.

“I will read to both of you before I go out, I promise.”

Once home, I wallowed in Lauren’s Jacuzzi while Karen gave the children tea. After that, I tried on one or two of Lauren’s fabulous outfits, twirling in front of the mirror in each before selecting a smart pair of black trousers with a clingy long-sleeved top. Next, I sat in front of Lauren’s dressing table and surveyed her cosmetic collection. Her makeup was vastly superior to anything I owned, and I experimented with her foundation and blusher, which were both in shades chosen to complement her English-rose complexion. At home I bought cheaper brands and I needed less foundation on my more youthful skin. Lauren’s Dior eye shadows were in blues and grays, and they looked odd against my eyes. I did my best, however, even though I felt like a small child who had sneaked a try with her mother’s makeup, and the result was far from a disaster. Finishing with blue-tinted mascara and soft pink lipstick, I sat back to scrutinize my face, wishing I’d had more time to play with it all.

I picked out some pretty costume jewelry, wishing once again that Lauren had pierced ears as I fixed the rather painful clips into
place, then I pirouetted in front of her full-length mirror to admire the full ensemble. Lauren’s reflection smiled back at me, and I felt a moment of unease that I had indulged myself so flagrantly at her expense, but there wasn’t time to feel too guilty. Toby was calling for his and Teddy’s bedtime story.

I read “The Three Billy Goats Gruff” to the boys, then tucked them into their beds. I went to kiss the girls good night and then I presented myself to Grant, who smiled appreciatively.

“You look great, sweetheart.”

“Thank you. You look very smart yourself.” He was wearing black trousers, a yellow shirt with a black and gold tie, and a black blazer.

We climbed into his Mercedes and waved to Karen, who closed the door as we turned out of the driveway.

“Is it far?”

He glanced sideways at me. “No. It’s only about fifteen minutes away.”

I felt sure from Grant’s demeanor that he still wasn’t convinced that I’d lost my entire memory bank. Either that, I decided, or he simply didn’t like to be reminded, each time I asked an innocent question, of the fact that I didn’t remember anything about him.

We arrived at the restaurant at nine o’clock, and I was thankful for the second time that day that Dan had taken Frankie home with him. By now, I thought, she would have been desperate to be let out—and the evening had hardly begun.

The Italian restaurant turned out to be very pretty, with pale green tablecloths, crystal glassware, and ornate table decorations. The maître d’ showed us to a table by a window and handed us our menus.

Grant ordered a bottle of Chablis, and I nudged him and
asked if we could have a bottle of mineral water, too. I assumed Lauren must normally drink wine, and while I was happy to have a small glass, I needed water as well.

When it arrived, the water was sparkling. I liked my water still, just as nature provided it, but I didn’t want to make a fuss, so I sipped at the slightly bitter bubbles and wondered what other compromises I was going to have to make as Lauren.

Grant turned out to be surprisingly good company. While we were waiting for our starters, he regaled me with humorous anecdotes involving awkward patients he had had to deal with, and I found myself gradually relaxing. By the time the main course arrived I was feeling almost light-headed with the unaccustomed alcohol, and discovered I was enjoying the evening a lot more than I had thought I would.

Halfway through the main course a couple entered the restaurant and sat at a far table, the woman with her back to me and the man, who was around Lauren’s age with a shock of blond hair, facing in our direction. As my eyes roamed the restaurant behind Grant I realized the man was looking directly at me. My fork wobbled in my hand and I dropped my gaze immediately. Grant went on talking and I rested my fork on my plate, trying to appear interested in what he was saying, but when I glanced up again the man was still staring and making small eye signals in my direction.

Oh, please, no, I thought desperately as I tried to concentrate on Grant. Surely I couldn’t be unlucky enough to have run into Lauren’s “other man”?

Throughout the remainder
of the meal the man kept sneaking glances at me, until in the end the young woman who was with him turned around to see who was attracting her companion’s attention. She scowled at me and I concentrated more wholeheartedly on my dessert, feeling myself blushing under her hostile scrutiny.

After coffee I needed to use the ladies’ room. My passage would, of course, take me directly past the other couple’s table, and I held off going until it became absolutely necessary, in the hope that they might finish their meals really quickly and leave the restaurant first.

They didn’t.

As I passed their table the man rose to his feet and followed closely on my heels. No sooner had the outer door closed behind us than he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to him.

“Oh God, Lauren!” he choked into my hair. “Why haven’t you contacted me?” I tried to pull away from him, but he held me fast. “I thought you were dead. Why didn’t you answer your
mobile? I’ve been leaving message after message, frantic with worry.”

“Please,” I entreated, while struggling in vain to extract myself from his grasp. “I have no idea who you are.”