Remember Me (2 page)

That
was the cause of her reaching for the bottle. She wanted to forget the hurt,
the pain and betrayal, all of it. Past. Present. Future. What future?  There
wasn’t one, not really. She could keep on writing, creating worlds of make
believe where she could escape to, but it was all rubbish, none of it had any
value or worth. It was sheer fantasy. And the problem with drinking to forget
your problems was that it did nothing to solve them, it only temporarily
removed them from view. Once day broke they were still there, waiting to be
dealt with only now they had to be faced with a banging hangover for company.
It hadn’t helped in Scotland and it would not help now. Why wasn’t there a way
to shut them out permanently, a way to make everything go away in the blink of
an eye? Catlin played it over in her mind – the demons of her past the
encounter with Danny had woken. She had abided by one rule her whole life, to
never look back. Until then she had not risked breaking it, knowing the demons
were too many in number to be faced down, but after bumping into him she had
not only looked but stopped whilst doing so and now they were upon her. There
was no breaking free of their clutches.

Catlin
lowered her stare so it fell into the ashy shadows of the street below. So
near, but would it be far enough? She had read somewhere the minimum number of
floors you needed to fall to ensure you weren’t just seriously injured, but the
number required escaped recollection. She looked into the emptiness which had
grown featureless as her vision blurred with concentration. Her heart raced
with a convulsion of mortal terror and excitement, the same feeling she used to
get when driving and seeing a bend in the road ahead she would put her foot
down on the accelerator rather than easing off. It was only in such situations as
those she felt alive. The dread of the thought which had entered her mind was
matched in intensity by the relief of an answer to it all having presented
itself. No, it wasn’t practical. The window was not high enough. The roof
terrace? She began to withdraw back into the room. She wondered. A hollow space
at the spot she knew her heart should be spoke to her calmly, as if it had
always guessed this moment was inevitable, and its reasoning soon drowned out
the quiet voice which came from the back of her mind and argued against her
thoughts.

Then
she jumped, snapped out of her trance and returned to her apartment lounge. She
had felt, or thought she felt, something tap her shoulder, a faint barely
noticeable pressure had pulled her out of the demons hold, but their influence
was too strong to be so easily dismissed. She glanced about the room and found
it to be unchanged. Books still lay stacked in large piles by already over
filled bookcases, the desk covered in the papers and pens and computer bits,
the furniture, television, everything was there but somehow removed. She could
hear the voices summoning to her, so haunting and frightening but irresistible
as they called her name. She was like a child deliberately breaking the rules
and doing something she knew to absolutely wrong but could not resist the
temptation to do it all the same. Led on by these and followed by the demons,
Catlin found herself mounting the stairs which led to the roof.

At
the fence which ran around the edge of the roof she paused again and took
another look down into the waiting and welcoming embrace of the void below and
she wondered how much it would hurt. Her death would be pretty quick, she was
sure of that, but was smart enough to surmise there was no such thing as an
instantaneous death. How much pain might she feel in those last few seconds?
Would she regret her choice when it was too late to change her mind? She
wavered, her hands shaking uncontrollably as they gripped the fence. No,
however it might hurt, the pain would be nothing compared to another thirty odd
years of heartaches and disappointments to add to those torments already lived
through. As for regret, she’d have more of those if not jumping turned out to
be the biggest mistake of her life. She’d never summon the courage to do this
again.

A
cry of anguish got caught up in her chest as Catlin carefully began to ease her
way over the fence. She darted a brief glance downwards, with one leg either
side of the barrier which separated two worlds and was about to swing the other
over when she was interrupted for a second time. She could have sworn a voice,
barely more than a hushed whisper, had called out for her to stop and again the
hand grabbed her shoulder, more forcefully than before, causing her to jump in
surprise, and Catlin found a dark haired man, close to her own age, standing
there and who looked more terrified of what she was doing than she herself was.
Between the drink, the adrenaline and his curious arrival, Catlin lost what
portion of her balance she had retained thus far and toppled backwards off the
fence, landing with a sobering thus on the floor of the roof terrace at his
feet.

“Are
you all right?” he asked with genuine concern in his voice.

“Do
I look it?” Catlin sniped sarcastically from her sprawled out position on the
decking.

“Here,
let me help.” Normally, she’d have refused any assistance from a total
stranger, adamant that she could manage fine on her own, but the steadying
influence of the drink had worn off and, realising how close she had been to
doing something mortally idiotic, Catlin’s legs were incapable of supporting
her, and so she gladly took his hand when it was offered and allowed him to
help her to an upright position.

“Everything
in one piece?” he asked with a barely concealed smile. Whether it was born of
relief or humour Catlin could not tell, but she didn’t care much either way.

“Everything
bar my dignity. Thanks. For the hand up, I mean.” It was important to add that
in for it dawned on her that he must have witnessed most, if not all, of her
rooftop escapade, and the resulting shame left her feeling more than a bit
self-conscious.

“Yeah,
I guessed what you meant.”

There
was a hesitant pause as they stared at one another, wondering how much they
could get away with saying without making an already difficult situation down
right impossible.

“You
sure you’re okay? It was quite a tumble you took there.” 

“But
not as big as the one you nearly had,” Catlin imagined him to be thinking.

“Yes.
Really, you don’t have to worry over me. You know the saying – no sense, no
feeling.”

“I’m
sure you’ve got plenty of sense, though I don’t think it’s too smart prancing
about on a rooftop in the middle of the night.” There it was – the first dig.

“Are
you including yourself in that? I’m not alone in being guilty of that, am I?”

He
looked quite stunned by the quickness of her rebuke, but the smile soon came
back to his face, one of those rare smiles that you cannot help but return even
if your mood is as tempestuous as a storm at sea.

“You’ve
got me there. It probably means we’re both short on intellect. Mind you, it’s a
good thing I did come up, otherwise…”

“Quite,”
Catlin cut in swiftly, but with a smile, not wanting to be reminded of her
folly, least of all by
him.
“But, what are you doing here, on my roof?”

“It’s
complicated. I kind of found myself here unintentionally. I used to live nearby
years ago and finding myself back in the area I fancied a look around some of
my old haunts, and here I am. I remembered the views from up here were
something special and, with the aid of the fire escape over there, came up to
see if they’d changed much. Didn’t plan on meeting anyone else up here at this
hour.”

“So,
you’ve been here before then?” Catlin was intrigued, especially when she saw
some of the brightness fade from his face and an expression akin to regret take
its place. Maybe she was not the only being hounded by demons from the past.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy.” He shook off his melancholy and the light
flooded back into his eyes although a tinge of sadness lingered.

“Hey,
if anyone has a right to ask, it’s you. I’m on your roof after all. Someone I
knew used to live in this building, so it’s probably fair to say I’m familiar
with the area.”

His
gaze drifted from Catlin and out towards the hills, which towered black against
the navy-grey of the night sky with its scattering of stars, allowing Catlin to
get her first proper look at him. He looked to be in his early to mid-thirties,
though his aura spoke of a wisdom beyond his years. His dark hair framed his
equally dark and piercing eyes which once on you seemed to be hypnotic, holding
your attention until their owner broke the enchantment, and which looked out at
everything with a sensitivity she had thought to exist only in fiction. He was
good looking too, all the more so for his being completely unaware of the fact
for there was no trace of arrogance or vanity to seen in his behaviour or his
words. It was incomprehensible to Catlin that he had not been snapped up by
either a modelling agency or one of the big movie houses. Maybe he had been,
for stranger though he was, she could have sworn he looked vaguely familiar.

In
those minute spent analysing him, Catlin had kept her eyes fixed on the
stranger, so preoccupied with her assessment of him that she did not realise
until it was too late that he had been aware of her observation.

“Something
the matter?”

“No,
nothing at all,” Catlin babbled, her face turning red, grateful the low light
prevented him from seeing her blushes.

“There
must be something, based on how you were studying me. Is my hair on end?”

“No,
it was just… well I thought I recognised you from somewhere. You said you used
to live around here before, but do you still live or work locally?” He shook
his head and crossed his arms over his body, a private sorrow stealing the
smile from his lips.

“No,
I’ve not lived around here for ages. I’m just visiting.”

“Oh.
Right,” Catlin sighed, confused at why it was she should be so disappointed by
this piece of information. “Are you back for long?” He shoved his hands into
his pockets, deliberately keeping his gaze fixed on the ground.

“I’m
not sure how long I’ll be around. It depends on others besides myself. It’s
hard to explain my situation.”

Catlin
nodded her head in recognition of the gentle dismissal.

“It’s
okay, I get it. Don’t panic, I’m not going to show the pair of us up by asking
for your number or anything. I was just making conversation, not looking to
usurp your girlfriend.” He laughed, actually laughed, with genuine amusement
and in the same way as his smile forced you to respond like for like, his
laughter went directly to your heart and lifted it. Catlin found it impossible
to keep from joining in the hilarity.

“Did
I say something humorous?”

“Sorry,
it’s just the idea of a girlfriend. I’ve not heard anything so hilarious in a
long time.”

“Right,
then you mean…”

“No,
I’ve not a boyfriend either. I am quite single and quite straight.” Catlin
inwardly scolded the part of her which jumped into the air gleefully at the
news.

“Really?
Well, that’s… good.”

Another
pause and she began to think herself deranged for even daring to flirt with
this guy who was well and truly out of her league. She had sent lesser
specimens running for cover upon asking them for a date or merely hinting at
the idea. She was well aware of her faults and flaws as well as her virtues and
could count her feminine traits on the fingers of one hand and still have four
fingers spare to use for something else. Yet here she was, making a not so
subtle play for a man who could easily be voted the hottest male on the planet.
It was quite likely that in the coming minutes, in a desperate bid to flee her
advances, he’d be the one hurling himself off the roof! But, rather than
looking horrified as was the usual reaction, he seemed uncertain about what he
should say or do. Catlin wondered if perhaps after seeing her almost jump to
her death once that evening he did not want his outright rejection to make her
attempt it for a second time. She decided to be the bigger person and spare him
any further discomfort.

“Anyway,
it’s getting late. I’d best be getting downstairs and you must have places to
go.”

Now
she was really confused, because he looked at her with such desperation that
she was convinced her leaving him was the last thing he wanted.

“Will
you be okay finding your way home from here?” she added. It was a ridiculous
question, but she had to say something.

“Yes,
I know my way from here.”

“It’s
been nice to meet you. Erm, sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“It’s
Ben. Ben Ellison.”

“Hi
Ben. I’m Catlin Manners.”

“The
writer?”

“Yes,”
she replied with a cringe.

“I’m
a big fan of yours.”

“Really?
How mortifying!” They threw in another pause for good measure, suddenly
reluctant to walk away from the other.

“Well,
you’re right. It is late. Good-night Catlin.”

“Good-night
Ben. It was nice to see you.”

“It
was nice to be seen.” They shook hands somewhat formally as they made their
farewells and took a step in their respective direction of travel, each looking
at the other as they moved away. Finally, Ben turned his head and broke the
stand-off.

Catlin
walked over to the door which led down to her apartment, then froze, rendered
immobile as an incomprehensible fear that she was never going to see him again
seized her, and she shot a hurried glance back over her shoulder to see if he
was still in sight. To her surprise he seemed to have experienced the very same
compulsion and was stood looking over at her, relieved when she smiled at him.

“Good-night,
once again,” Catlin called with a wave. “And thank you. For everything.” That
time she did mean
everything.

“Don’t
mention it.” He began to move away again.

“Perhaps
we might see each other again, you know, around here, somewhere, sometime.”

He
shot her what was his now famous smile.

“I
hope so. Good-night Catlin Manners.”

“Until
next time, Ben Ellison,” she replied and with great effort of will, she forced
herself to step in through the door and allowed him to vanish from view.