Thursday's Child (4 page)

Something was touching her right hand. Glancing down, she counted eight fingers. Four suntanned fingers laced firmly into her pale ones. Her gaze ran from the tips of the neat, clean nails along the long tanned fingers, up the arm and across the broad shoulder to the face of the hand’s owner. Her breath caught.

Fast asleep and snoring softly beside her in a hospital chair, sat the most stunning man she’d ever set eyes on. Short, scruffy dark hair fell over his forehead and five o’clock shadow outlined his strong chin and cheek bones. A navy blue T-shirt with the fire service logo hugged his broad chest. Strong biceps protruded from the short sleeves. A phone and keys hung off the belt that looped through the top of his uniform trousers, and his fireproof coat slung over the arm of his chair. One leg crossed over the other showing his calf length boots.

As gorgeous as he was, she didn’t know him from Adam and didn’t want him holding her hand. She pulled it free, and raised her brows when he didn’t stir. He was a sound sleeper. Tearing her eyes away from his handsome features, she glanced around the rest of the room. Not that she could see much from flat on her back. Women in uniform moved between the other beds, each with as much equipment as there was next to hers.

The man beside the bed stirred, and she turned to look at him, to find herself drowning in the most incredible pair of hazel eyes. A smile shot across his face, his eyes lighting, and a dimple showing on his left cheek. “Hon, you’re awake.” His deep voice sent shivers down her spine. His glance moved to the end of the bed. “Nurse, Niamh’s awake.”

Her eyes widened, and her heart stopped for an instant.
Hon?

Who was this man calling her hon?

His hand took hers again and squeezed it. “I was so worried. I thought I’d lost you.” He leaned forwards and kissed her cheek, his lips soft and his breath warm against her skin.

She shivered. This wasn’t right. She wanted Liam. Her twin brother would protect her. Or her older brother, Patrick. She pulled her hand back and pushed into the bed as much as she could. The weight on her leg and pain in her abdomen prevented her from getting up and running, so instead she wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach. “Don’t touch me. Where’s Liam? Why isn’t he here?”

Consternation filled his eyes and his eyebrows furrowed. “Niamh, baby? What’s wrong?”

Another voice came from the other side of the bed and dark fingers closed on her wrist, taking her pulse. “Hello, Niamh. How are you feeling?”

Looking up past the blue uniform into the nurse’s face, Niamh took a deep shuddering breath, and instantly regretted it as pain pulsed in her chest. “Everything hurts. Where am I?”

“You’re in hospital. You’re going to be OK.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t you remember?” The nurse smiled.

“No. I don’t want to be rude, but if I knew, why would I ask?”

The nurse laughed lightly “That’s a very good question. You were in a car crash yesterday. You’ve been sleeping for the best part of a day.”

Niamh’s stomach plummeted and panic filled her.
What car crash?
What was she going on about?
Why don’t I remember?
Alarms blared as her breathing and heart rate spiked, sending the monitors into overdrive. The pinging from one of the machines sky rocketed until the nurse cancelled it.

“Just relax. Everything’s going to be OK.” Her voice oozed calmness, her soft touch pushing Niamh back onto the bed. “Let me go and fetch your doctor. He’ll explain everything to you. I’ll be right back.”

“Can you ring my brothers? I want Liam or Patrick here.”

The nurse nodded and headed over to the desk, where she picked up the phone and spoke rapidly.

A hand touched Niamh’s arm making her jump. She turned her head to look at the man sitting beside her. “Niamh, baby, what’s wrong? You know I’m not going to hurt you.” Concern filled his deep voice.

Pulling her arm away, she couldn’t stop shaking. Once Liam got here everything would be all right. She tried hard to remember the name of the man sitting there, but she couldn’t. He must know her if his insistence on touching and pet names were anything to go by.

Footsteps thudded over to the bed and she opened her eyes. A tall grey-haired man with glasses stood there. He wore a white coat, with stethoscope slung around his neck and dangling over the name badge which confirmed him as the promised doctor. “Hello, Niamh. I’m Dr. Anders. How are you feeling?”

She pushed a hand through her hair. “Sore. Why’s this man here and not my brother?”

The firefighter next to her took a sharp breath. “Hon?”

She looked sideways at him. “Please don’t call me that. I have no idea who you are.”

Shock resonated in his eyes and his jaw dropped. “I’m sorry? You don’t you know who I am?”

“No, I don’t.” She looked back at the doctor. “I don’t remember him at all. The only thing I do know, is when I woke, he was holding my hand.”

Dr. Anders looked at her, then across at the firefighter, concern showing in his steel grey eyes. “Would you mind waiting outside while I examine your wife?”

Niamh swallowed and choked. “
Wife?
” She didn’t know who this guy was. What other surprises waited for her? Maybe she was still asleep and in some kind of weird dream.

“Yes, Niamh. You’re my wife. I’m Jared. We’ve been married for eight years.” He tore his anguished eyes from her and looked at the doctor. “Why can’t she remember? I want to stay while you check her over.”

She shook her head. “No. I’d like you to leave. Please.” He claimed to know her intimately, but she had no idea who he was and was most definitely not stripping off in front of him. It’d be embarrassing enough in front of a strange doctor.

Fortunately the doctor seemed to agree. “I think it would be best if you waited outside, Mr. Harkin. I’ll come and speak with you when I’m done.”

Jared scowled, sighing as he pushed up from the chair. He snatched up his coat and crossed the room with heavy steps, pausing only to wash his hands before leaving the ward.

The coat slung over his arm swayed as he left. Was she really married to him? Did the sticking plaster on her left hand hide a wedding ring? The ward door shut and she turned her full attention to the doctor. “I know my name is Niamh and my brothers are Liam and Patrick. Can you tell me a bit more before you start poking and prodding me?”

“Sure.” Dr. Anders perched on the edge of the bed next to her, her notes in his hand. A nurse pulled the curtains around the bed. “The ID in your bag, your brother and husband all confirm you’re Mrs. Niamh Frances Harkin. You’re thirty-six and live here in Headley Cross and work for the CPS. Your birthday is February the twenty-ninth. You’re married, no children. Your husband is the man who just left, Jared Harkin.”

“He’s a firefighter. I know that from his uniform, but I don’t know him. I don’t understand. It’s like there’s a big hole in my mind.” She frowned.

Thirty-six? That’s not right. I’m sure it’s not. I’m not that old, but then how can I be sure of anything?

“OK.”

“What I don’t understand is how do I know some things and not others? Like I know I have an IV in my hand and you’re a doctor and what things are called. I know I have a twin called Liam and an older brother, Patrick, but not who that man is. And I’m sure I’m not thirty-six. Do you have any idea why?”

Dr. Anders smiled. “It’s not unusual for there to be some memory loss after a head injury. You were in a very nasty traffic accident.”

“See I don’t remember that either.” She lay there, studying his face and body language, trying to take everything in. “And the rest of my family?”

“All fine as far as I know. We’ll give Liam a call and let him know you’re awake.” He took her wrist again as he gazed at the readouts on the monitors. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Other than waking up a few minutes ago with a total stranger holding my hand?” She thought for a moment. She hadn’t lost her sense of humor, which she guessed was a good thing—although Liam probably wouldn’t agree. “A blue light, sirens, it was raining. There was a voice. I remember being cold and wet. Umm…Fireworks. Lots of fireworks. There was a child, a little girl on a swing and a funeral with a flag over the coffin, but I don’t know. It could have been a dream. Everything is so foggy. That’s it, I’m afraid.”

“No worries. I need to check you over.”

“Sure.” She lay still as the doctor pulled back the covers and started examining her. “Was anyone else in this car crash? Or just me?”

“There were several cars and a lorry involved. The police want to speak to you, but that can wait until tomorrow.”

“Not that I can remember anything to tell them. How badly hurt am I? And I want the truth, none of your doctor speak or soft coating it.”

“You coded twice. Once at the scene, and again in the ambulance on the way here. But we’ve had you on a monitor ever since and your heart is perfectly normal and steady. You have a lot of bruises, especially to your chest and abdomen. As well as finger shaped bruises on your left arm. Someone must have held you quite firmly to have caused them. Those were probably pre-accident, but no one seems to know how they were caused. You have a compound fracture of your left leg, which we repaired surgically, along with the damage to your femoral artery. You also dislocated your left knee, so the cast is a full length one from your toes to the top of your thigh.”

She scrunched up her nose. “That’s going to make walking and bathing interesting. Do I have a metal plate in my leg?”

He smiled wryly. “Yes, so you’ll have to warn the airports before you travel. We’ll give you a note to put in your current passport and a letter for the passport agency. You’ll be on crutches for between four and six weeks. Even with them, you can’t put any weight on your leg until the physio clears you to do so. We had to remove your spleen, but most people manage pretty well without it.”

“What about bathing? I can’t avoid washing for weeks.”

There was a wry smile on his face as he checked the stiches. “My wife asked the same thing when she dislocated her kneecap. Cover the cast in a black bin liner, to keep it dry when you shower. Or strip wash.”

She winced as his gentle touch sent white hot pain shooting through her tortured body. “That hurts.”

“It will for a while, but I’ll get the nurse to give you some pain meds.”

“Thanks.” Her mind went back to the firefighter. Surely she’d remember if she were married to someone as drop dead gorgeous as Jared? Wouldn’t she? It was like turning on the TV to find the film had already started, the hero in the middle of a heavy duty action scene, and she had no idea what was going on. “Why can’t I remember?”

“You had a severe concussion. That bump to your head was enough to knock you out for a while. It’s not uncommon to lose your short term memory.”

“Yeah, but this isn’t just what happened yesterday. If that firefighter is right and we’ve been married for eight years, then it’s everything in the last eight years if not longer, isn’t it?”

Dr. Anders nodded. “And because of that, I want you to see a neurologist in the morning.”

“Wait a minute. I’m not crazy. Just because I don’t remember a few things, doesn’t mean I need a shrink.”

He smiled. “A neurologist, not a psychiatrist. A neurologist is a brain specialist. It’s standard procedure in cases like yours. He’ll run a few tests, should be able to give you an idea of when you’ll start remembering things again. Meanwhile, would you like your husband to come back in?”

She shook her head. “No. I want my brother. Not a total stranger.”

“OK. Try to get some rest. If you have any worries get the nurse to give me a shout.”

“OK, thank you.” She leaned back as Dr. Anders pulled open the curtains, his swift long strides taking him to the nurse’s station. He put the file on the desk and made a few notes before picking up the phone.

She turned her attention to the ceiling, trying to remember something concrete, anything at all about the last eight years and the tall man she was married to, but there was just a big black hole where her memory used to be. She rubbed a cautious hand over her stomach. It hurt more since he had poked and prodded and changed the dressing.

The nurse reappeared. “I’ll bring you the pain meds and something to drink. Tea, coffee or water?”

“Tea please. Milk, two sugars.” Niamh smiled.
Silly, I can remember that, but not important things
.

“Sure.” The nurse left and she leaned back against the pillow. A noise from the door caught her attention and she twisted her head to see what was going on.

Dr. Anders appeared to be having a very heated discussion with Jared. He didn’t like what the doctor told him, his facial expression and hand movements made that all too clear, before he turned and walked away, his shoulders down and his head hanging.

For a moment she felt guilty for not letting him back in, then pushed it aside. Her fingers went to the base of her throat, in what seemed to be an automatic movement, but there was nothing there. It felt empty, as if there was something missing there too.

“Are you looking for your necklace? It’s right here.” The nurse put the cup down on the side. “Let’s sit you up a little so you can drink your tea, then I’ll get it for you.”

Pain flooded her as the nurse gently began helping her sit up. Her skin grew cold and clammy, stars flashed in front of her eyes and she screwed them tight. She pushed back into the pillows, the pain easing a little, only to be replaced by wave after wave of dizziness.

The monitor chimed and the nurse cancelled it, her cool fingers taking Niamh’s wrist. “You OK, Niamh? You’re not going to pass out on me now, are you?”

“I’m really dizzy.” She opened her eyes. “But, no, I don’t think I’m going to faint.”

White teeth shone in the nurse’s dark face as she smiled. “Good, glad to hear it. Here’s your necklace.” She reached over to the drawer and pulled something out, before placing a gold cross on a delicate gold chain, adorned with a single diamond into Niamh’s hand.

Turning it over Niamh ran her fingers over the initials engraved on it. “NFH...” A warm feeling of belonging and love and something else flooded her.