Thursday's Child (8 page)

A child’s voice echoed with hers. “Mummmmyyyyyy.”

****

Niamh sat bolt upright, screaming, tears streaming down her face, rocking back and forth. Someone spoke and touched her arm, but she pulled away, struggling for breath. A hand gently touched her cheek and guided her to look into a pair of hazel eyes.

Jared?

“Hey.” His tone was gentle and soft. “It’s OK.”

Niamh tried to draw breath, unable to tear her gaze from his. Her whole body shook, and she grew light headed from lack of oxygen. Jared ran to the kitchen, returned with a paper bag and guided her hands to hold it. “Breathe into this. It’ll help.”

How is a paper bag going to stop me from suffocating?

Her head spun and her eyes wanted to close. Jared scrunched the bag up and placed it over her mouth and nose. “Breathe into the bag.”

She did as he asked, grateful he was holding the bag as her hands wouldn’t grip anything. This mad idea of his seemed to work, and as it got easier to breathe, Niamh realized he had his hand resting on her back, rubbing it. The touch felt strange, but at the same time familiar. She didn’t shy away, but leaned into it. The scent of his aftershave filled her senses. Pushing the bag away, she looked at him. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

Jared smiled. “It’s OK. I woke a while ago and was just finishing dinner when I heard you scream. Are you feeling better?”

Niamh nodded. “Yes, just a stupid nightmare.”

He looked at her, brushing the hair from her eyes. “Want to tell me about it while we eat?”

“Sure. It doesn’t make any sense though.”

“Nightmares seldom do.” He helped her to her feet, his sleep tousled hair giving him a childlike air. It was kind of cute. “What was it this time? Freddie or the fog monster?”

She leaned heavily on the crutches and walked slowly across the room. “Fog monster?”

“Hey, don’t mock. I usually have to save you from him once a week.”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t a monster made of fog, and I wasn’t being chased down a long dark hallway by a burned madman with knives for fingernails either. Though the guy in my dream did have a knife, and he was chasing me, right before I woke up. I was running, trying to get away, but he grabbed me and hit me and brought the knife down. Before that, I was in a car and the brakes didn’t work, and I think I crashed, but I’m not sure because at that point the knife man appeared. Before that there was fire and flags at half-mast and coffins on fire engines.”

Jared touched her shoulder for a moment then let go again. “You’re safe now. Did you see his face?”

“The bloke in my dream? No, I didn’t. Why?”

“No reason.”

“OK.” She took a deep breath. “Are you wearing Fascination?”

His voice caught as he replied. “Yes. You always buy it for me because you like it.”

Niamh gazed at him. “What’s my favorite perfume?”

“Eighteen fourteen.”

She shook her head. It didn’t sound right. “Oh.”

“Why?”

“Half thought you’d say something else.”

He smiled. “Well, strictly speaking that’s your current favorite. It seems to change each year or so. Why? What were you expecting me to say?”

“Blue Moon.” She caught her breath as his eyes glistened and looked down at her hands. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no, you didn’t. You wore that the day we got married. You had the whole range of stuff from body lotion, and bath oil, to hand cream…”

“That I do remember. It was all I ever wanted for Christmas and birthdays. I couldn’t justify spending that much money on myself.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. You love shopping and buying yourself new stuff.” He paused, changing the subject. “It’s warm tonight, despite being October, so I figured we’d eat outside, if that’s all right. Mind the step.”

“I got it.” She made her way outside and lowered herself onto the patio furniture. She hadn’t told him about the voice crying Mummy because that bit made no sense, even to her. She needed to think it through first.

Niamh took the lap tray he offered and smiled. “Thank you.” As the sun began to set, casting a purple hue over the clouds, she looked down at the plate and her smile widened. “I haven’t had chicken chow mien in ages. Did you vanish down the take away?”

Jared smiled, a faint blush touching his cheeks. “No. I have to admit I was tempted as you love the food from the local Chinese place, but this I made all by myself.”

Surprise filled her. “Wow, that’s so clever. I wouldn’t even know where to start. Did you make the fortune cookies, too?” She pointed to the bowl of cookies on the table.

“Ah, no. They came from this box.” He laughed and reaching down beside his chair, picked up and then jiggled a cardboard container. “But yes, the noodles and chicken chow mien are mine. This was the first thing I ever cooked for you.”

Niamh took a bite, and her eyes widened in delight as she chewed and swallowed. “It’s delicious. Did I marry you for your cooking skills?”

Jared laughed. “Quite possibly. We shared the cooking. You cooked when I worked, and I cooked on my days off.”

Niamh ate, enjoying the food. Then she reached for a fortune cookie.
“Do not sleep in a eucalyptus tree tonight
,” she read.

Jared laughed. “Don’t think we have one of those even if I wanted to try.” He broke his. “
Indomitable in retreat; invincible in advance; insufferable in victory
.”

She grabbed a few more and kept two and tossed two to Jared. “
When you make your mark in the world, watch out for guys with erasers
.”

“
You will experience a strong urge to do good, but it will pass
.”

“
Love thy neighbor. Tune thy piano
.”

Jared looked up at the clouds as he read the last one. “
It is said that no one regards what is before his feet; we all gaze at the stars
. Well, clouds in this case.” He pointed upwards. “That one looks like a dragon.”

She followed his finger but couldn’t see which one he was pointing to. “Where? I don’t see it.”

“There,” he said. “Second cloud to the right and straight on ’til morning.”

“That’s stars, not clouds. Dragon, huh?”

“Yeah, a big fire breathing dragon, that has chicken chow mien for dinner, and will have ice cream and fortune cookies for dessert.”

She smiled, letting slide the fact he was implying she was a fire breathing dragon. “What kind of ice cream?”

Jared grinned at her “Your favorite of course. Neapolitan, with chocolate sauce and sugar strand sprinkles. So, this here dragon. Do you see it now?”

She looked at the cloud critically for a moment. “It needs a name. Call it Deraj. Unless it’s a female dragon.”

He fixed his eyes on her, a gaunt look in them. “We’ll call it H’main.”

“No. Deraj sounds much better. And if it gets cold, it can sleep in your room. Not going to let it melt all over my carpet.” Niamh watched in surprise as Jared hurried inside with the plates. She sat there, really not sure what she had said, but was suddenly sure Deraj and H’main were snowmen and not clouds.

After a several minutes he came back out. His eyes were red rimmed. Had he been crying? “I need to get going. I’ll see you tomorrow. I should be home around nine thirty or so in the morning. Assuming we don’t get called out just before hand over. Can I get you anything before I leave?”

Niamh shook her head. He hadn’t brought the ice cream, but she no longer fancied it. “I’ll be fine.”

“Let me help you upstairs and put the TV on in the bedroom. I put a patio chair in the shower for you, and a bin liner to put the cast in. Your towels are the navy blue ones hanging in the upstairs bathroom.” His strong arms surrounded her as he picked her up and carried her.

She slid an arm around his neck. She knew he wouldn’t drop her; he did this for a living.

The bedroom was bigger than she’d imagined, and the bed itself was soft as he settled her onto it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. If you need anything, call me. Or Liam said you could call him. All the numbers are programmed into your mobile phone. Your laptop is here, you never log out of anything, so you don’t need to worry about passwords for your email, social media pages and so on.” For a moment it looked as if he was going to kiss her, then he straightened. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. I hope work goes OK.” She watched him leave, picked up the remote and turned on the television. Assuming she really had lost ten years, she shouldn’t have a problem finding something to watch.

She glanced at the laptop. Email? Social media pages? It was as if he was talking a foreign language. She hadn’t much cared for the new fad of electronic mail. A handwritten letter was far more personal than something typed and sent over this new internet malarkey. That was one thing she hoped didn’t catch on. The personal phones, however, would be a good idea. Especially in her line of work.

****

Jared sat at the table in the canteen, his hand curled around a mug of tea and a plate of cold spaghetti bolognaise on the table in front of him.

Skippy looked over at him. “Hey, if you’re not hungry, can I have that?”

“Go for it.” Jared pushed the plate over to him, shaking his head as Skippy attacked it with gusto. “Doesn’t your wife feed you?”

Skippy laughed. “She does, but I hate to see good food go to waste. So what’s up, mate? Is Niamh still in hospital?”

“No, she came home this morning.” He took a deep breath. “But, she doesn’t know who I am. She remembers nothing of the last ten years. If she were dead, at least I could mourn her, but this? That car crash took my wife and left me with a total stranger. How am I meant to just turn off my feelings and stop loving her now?”

“You don’t, you daft drongo.” Skippy’s Australian accent came through sharply. “You give her time. Date the sheila all over again. Charm her, make her fall in love with you and maybe as she does, she’ll remember you and all you’ve done together the past nine years.”

Jared looked up, his cup dropping to the table. He closed his eyes and buried his head in his hands.
Dayna
. What if she remembered Dayna or found the photos? Losing their daughter had almost killed her.

It had killed their marriage.

Could she survive reliving that night again? Could either of them?

7

Jared let himself into the house just after nine thirty. It had been a quiet night, although he’d have preferred a busy one. Then he wouldn’t have worried about Niamh. He wrinkled his nose.
Toast?
Had Niamh gotten up and made her own breakfast?

“Hello?” He hung his jacket on the coat hooks and took a deep breath. It was definitely toast and coffee.

“I’m in the kitchen.” She sounded cheerful, something she hadn’t been around him for a long time now. She smiled as he came in. “I made you breakfast. It’s not much, but it’ll fill a hole. And I worked out the coffee machine. Kind of impressive, don’t you think?”

“Very impressive.” Surprise filled him, and something touched his soul—a part of him Niamh hadn’t reached in a long time. “And thank you. But should you be standing?”

“I’m not weight bearing which is what they told me not to do. Besides, I can’t sit down all day long. I also discovered that I don’t like coffee. It smells great but tastes nasty, so I’m sticking to tea.”

“How did you sleep?” Jared sat at the table. It may only be beans on toast, but it was a sight for sore eyes and a feast for his empty stomach. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And I didn’t sleep that great, but I never do, first night in a strange bed.” She lowered herself into the chair opposite, setting the crutches against the edge of the table. “Can you say grace, please?”

“Sure.” Jared obliged and then picked up his knife and fork. “I’m sorry you didn’t sleep well. Hopefully you will tonight.”

“Well, it can’t be much worse. Do we have any photos? There don’t seem to be any around. I can’t find any apart from the ones on the mantelpiece of you in uniform and me in robes.”

Jared paused, the cutlery hovering over the food. “No, we don’t have many. Just the few copies I got from your family and mine. We lost everything in a house fire two years ago.”

“Hence the no thatched roof on the house.”

“Yeah.” He concentrated on his food, hoping she’d drop the subject. But she didn’t.

“Only I was thinking, perhaps they’d jog my memory a little. Would Liam have some?”

“Yeah, he would.”

“Can we go see him? It’s the weekend, so he’s not working.”

“I’ll give him a call, and make sure he’s going to be in.”

“OK, thanks.” She twisted her hair around a finger. “You said the house was destroyed in a fire. Could you take me over to where the house was? I want to see it.”

Jared nodded, his stomach threatening to eject his breakfast. He didn’t want to tell her about Dayna. Not while she was being civil to him. The old Niamh was almost there, just below the surface of the woman before him. If she remembered or got told about Dayna and exactly what happened the night of the fire, then the shutters would come down and the ice maiden would return. “There isn’t much left now, or there wasn’t last time I was over there. I’ll take you, but I do need to sleep a bit first.”

“Of course. Sorry, I forgot you were up all night.”

“No worries. Let me sleep until about one and then we’ll go.” He finished his breakfast and stood. “Thank you. Want me to do the dishes?”

“I found the dishwasher. I’ll do them. Sleep well.”

“Thanks.” Jared headed upstairs to his room. He shut the door and pulled out his mobile phone. “Hey, Liam, it’s Jared.”

“Hey, how are things?”

“She still doesn’t remember anything. She’s asking about photos and wants to come over and look at yours this afternoon.”

“Sure.”

“One other thing, please don’t bring out any photos of Dayna. Niamh knows about the fire, as I had to tell her why we had no photos, but doesn’t know about our daughter.”