Page 19 of The Reaper

He sat back then, looking smug, his half smirk curling his lips, but there was coldness. Disappointment. “So there is something.”

She gulped. Looked down at the floor.

“But you could tell me, we could fix it, and help me out here,” he added, quietly, earnestly.

She looked at him, desperate, almost pleading with his deep brown eyes. He was so persistent, so determined to find out who he was. But she was sure once he did that he wouldn't want her, he would be hurt by what she was doing, lying about being his girlfriend. She knew him better now, and he would surely see this as a betrayal. She realised for the first time that this little adventure could only be that, an adventure, she’d set off on a destructive path that could only really end in doom. She had wanted a way out but she had basically trapped herself in.

“I sometimes feel like… maybe I wasn’t always good… to you… like maybe I wasn’t a good person…”

It was true. Maybe he was a bad person. She cleared her throat.

“Yes, remembering who you were will be a great thing,” she said, though her mouth felt like it had ash inside it. Hannah was committed, she had to keep going. She took his hand now. “Butalso, there is a future ahead of you, ahead of us, that is ours for the taking here… I guess what I’m trying to say is… while the past is important, there is a future, too, and you can be whoever you want to be, for that future.”

He blinked at her, listening, thinking, something in that clever mind of his whirring away.

“I mean, it doesn’t matter what books you liked or where you worked, if that’s not what you like anymore, or not what you want to do going forward. As you said, this could be a new beginning.”

“So you’ve said,” he said flatly. He looked at her and blinked. A flicker of recognition crossed his eyes, like a cloud coming over the sun. She kept her face neutral, but her mind flapped. Hannah knew, with 100% certainty, he was starting to remember. This was the moment this was the point where it began to unravel, she knew it, she was just marking time now.

This was it.

She cleared her throat and stammered. “Are you okay, you look-”

He smiled, the cloud was gone, suddenly, as quickly as it had come. “Yes, it's a good opportunity to start afresh,” he said brightly. Too brightly.

He looked at her then, like he was seeing her for the first time again. His gaze lingered on her face too long, like he was really looking. He gave her a little half-smile, then a wink.

She paused. A wink?

That’s when she realised something else. Not only did he know that she wasn’t telling the truth, but neither was he. He wasn’t telling her the truth. He was lying to her. A wink? He was remembering a lot more than he was letting on and for some reason he was going along with it playfully, almost cheekily. Why was he letting this happen? He had remembered, then was trying to throw her off by smiling and lying back to her. Butit was almost as if he had flagged he was lying, almost like he wanted her to know. Like he trusted her, he could tell she wasn’t being truthful with him, but was letting it happen for now. She was going to have to stay on her toes, now she couldn’t trust anything he said, either. It both scared and excited her. She felt the blood beating around her body, adrenaline, probably.

Why was he going along with this? She knew he was beginning to realise this was made up, if he was remembering, as the neurologist said, more recent stuff first, then older things, he was remembering that she hadn’t been in his life prior to that.

She was sure of it, she would have put money on it, and she wasn’t even a betting kind of girl.

CHAPTER

ELEVEN

JACK

“It could be neurological amnesia,due to the head injury. You are likely to suffer from some mild confusion, and possible memory impairments for the everyday. It's not anterograde amnesia, he is able to learn new things. I’d encourage you to get him some books to read, or to start watching a TV box set or something, learn new characters, new storylines, follow them, and be able to pick them up.” The specialist neurologist was conducting one of the many interviews and assessments Jack had lined up in his timetable. Hannah was off work, and therefore had come along with him. He liked her coming to these things, sitting by his side, like they were a normal couple, supporting each other.

“I’m concerned it might be psychogenic amnesia, caused by a violent crime or emotional trauma. It’s fairly rare, it might take more therapy and counselling techniques to help these memories return, and may need careful processing. It’s too early yet to say, but we’d have expected you to recover your autobiographical memory by now. You can’t remember anythingabout who you were, not even where you went to school, university?”

“No, I’m sorry, I can’t, it’s just a grey blur,” Jack said with a grimace.

“But you remember Hannah?”

Jack looked at her, warmth in his eyes. “I get a sense of… deja vous, I think, a sense that I’ve been with her, before, I feel a sense of calm, and safety, of desire, of companionship… it feels familiar, I feel safe when I’m with her. I feel...”

He reached for her hand, Hannah smiled and reached back and it all felt so wildly real.

The neurologist sighed. “This isn't going to be easy. Amnesia varies in severity and scope, but even mild amnesia takes a toll on daily activities and quality of life. The syndrome can cause problems at work… in social settings. It may not be possible to recover lost memories. Some people with severe memory problems need to live in a supervised situation or extended-care facility...”

They both looked at each other. Would she stick around if the going got tough, if he took a downward turn, if he needed further help?

“I think it would help if Jack could get up and about a bit more, walk about, do some exercise, get outside… just being stuck in the same room every day is a bit shit,” Hannah said. He watched her like a hawk.

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