The Big Blank (2/2)
By Mark Say
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We carried on meeting, always in places nowhere near our homes but back at Della’s in time for a roll between the sheets then for me to get back to Karen. I told her and Natalie that I was trying to sort out my head through time by myself, long walks and sitting on park benches. They didn’t question me, maybe because everyone knew I was screwed up, maybe because they had stopped caring. And it was during the summer when it was more credible to be walking the streets late; it would be less convincing once the evenings become dark and cold. The years between the accidents remained a big blank, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I was aware of losing things that must have been important – having a wife, kids, a worthwhile job and people who seemed to have liked me – and felt I owed it to everyone to find those years again. But there was no emotional yearning, just an empty space.
Becky was the most concerned. She encouraged me to get all the medical help I could. I carried on with the regular therapy, then I got the OK for hypnotherapy, had a couple of sessoins but got nowhere with it. There was some talk about electro convulsive therapy, until one doctor pointed out that could easily make me forget what had happened more recently. I talked about it with Della and said it might mess up things between us. She replied that it might but if it did it was meant to happen. I hear a hint of regret in her voice. Then my therapist asked me to go in for a chat. She had consulted with another specialist who knew another practising a new technique of hypnotherapy that had helped people with severe amnesia, and did I want her to try to arrange some sessions? I said yes, because I thought that’s what everybody would expect me to say.
I went home and told Karen. She asked if I knew the odds on it working.
“Better than anything they’ve done for me so far.”
“OK. I suppose it’s worth a try.”
She didn’t sound excited. I told Natalie, who was more encouraging about it, then spent three times as long talking about two of her friends who had fallen out over wanting the same guy when she knew he was more interested in another of her friends who had just got engaged to someone else. I phoned Jake to tell him and he asked if I really wanted to know everything that had happened in those years. It sounded like he was only half joking.
“Is there something I ought to know?”
“Nah! Good luck with it!”
So I went to Becky. She had been telling me things, so I knew about relations who had got married, divorced, had kids or died; and some stuff about politics, and which bands had been big, and a handful of popular TV shows; and how to begin making sense of doing stuff on the internet. But she hadn’t told me how I’d been getting on with my family.
“I don’t know,” she said. “You never said there was anything wrong, but I always wondered if you were hold something back.”
“Why?”
“Just that, when you talked about Karen, you seemed a bit guarded.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. You didn’t tell me.”
That led me back to Karen.
“You said that lately there had been more downs than up between us. What’s the detail?”
She looked uncertain.
“Does it matter? I mean the way that you are.”
“Of course it matters. It’s part of that life everyone says I should get back.”
She didn’t answer. I guessed there was something quite painful.
“Did I cheat on you? Is that why there’s been this gap between us?”
She hesitated. There was an odd twist in her lips.
“No. I cheated on you.”
“Oh!”
“More than once. I mean, with more than one man.”
“How many?”
“Four. It would have been five, but one guy chickened out at the last minute.”
“Did I know them?”
“A couple. Not well, but you would have known faces, maybe a name. And there was once I had to ask to move tables in a restaurant because another was there with his wife.”
It took a moment to sink in.
“Why? Was it because of me or you?”
“A bit of both. You were a bit sort of, wet. Your family said it was because of your accident, the first one, that it made you scared of everything. You were nice, but not a lot of fun.”
“And you?”
“Well, that’s what I’m like. I used to cheat on boyfriends before I met you. There have been times when I’ve said I wouldn’t do it again, and at times I’ve gone for years without doing it, but then someone’s come along and I couldn’t stop myself.”
“Couldn’t stop yourself?”
“Alright, I didn’t want to.”
“Who knows about it?”
“I’ve never talked about it with anyone, and I’ve always been discreet.”
“Does anyone suspect?”
“If I do they haven’t told me.”
“Did I know?”
“I think you suspected, because I had too many late nights out, but you didn’t say anything. You just looked at me funny, which made me annoyed, which was why we weren’t getting on.”
There seemed a lot more to say but I couldn’t work out what it was. I walked out of the house, took a bus to Della’s place and told her everything.
It was the first time I stayed overnight with her, and the first time that we didn’t have sex, just slept in a loose embrace. We woke early – Della had to get to work – and over breakfast she asked how I felt about going back to Karen. I realised that I didn’t feel particularly hurt or angry – whatever Karen had done was part of the big blank – but there was something pointless in acting as if we were married. I wasn’t sure of what to do next. Della suggested I could start by bringing some of my clothes back to her place that evening.
“Are you sure?”
“I know we haven’t been together long, and this is all a bit screwed up, but we’ve started off well. Maybe it will work out, maybe not, but this seems the time to get on with things.”
She gave me a big warm smile and I was back to being the teenager with a crush on his mate’s cousin. We squeezed each other’s hands and fell into a big hug over the muesli dishes.
When I got home Karen was waiting; she had called work saying she was sick but looked embarrassed rather than ill.
“Where have you been?”
“With someone.”
“Who?”
“I’m going to be honest. I’ve been seeing another woman over the past few weeks.”
She looked surprised, but as we continued talking there was relief in her voice. Now she could feel less guilty about all the times she had cheated on me. I told her I was moving out, and after a few questions she agreed it was probably for the best.
After a few days it was going OK with Della; we were learning each other’s quirks, how to give each other space, and talking in an easy, affectionate way that I hadn’t experienced with Karen – at least not since my memory had been wiped. To my surprise, Natalie had been a little upset when I told her I was moving out, but gave me a hug as I left; and Jake told me had always wondered how long Karen and I would stick together. Mum was more blunt: “I always thought she was a devious cow!”
I shifted my mind to the future, which had to begin with finding a new job. I didn’t have a strong sense of what I could do competently, let alone enjoy, but Becky said I should start by learning how to use a computer and Jordan and Jamie told me I had always had a decent head for figures, so I looked at courses on the basics of finance, and one of them said I could start in a couple of weeks. Still nothing was coming back from the years between the accidents, but I felt that my head was coming together. Then one of my doctors called and said that the hypnotherapist in Birmingham had looked at my case notes and thought she could help. I could have a first appointment the following week.
I spent the next few days knowing that I should be hopeful but feeling a kind of emotional suspension. It wasn’t a promise, but it was a possibility of clawing back that chunk of my life that been knocked out of my head by a white van. Maybe I could recover a lot of those lost memories, get a better understanding of who I was, what I liked, what I could do. And I couldn’t get excited at the idea. One evening Della fell asleep on the sofa as we were watching TV and I sat looking at her, feeling I had a chance of long term contentment. The next day I called Natalie and asked to meet for a coffee. She came along, seemed pleased to see me, and I felt that maybe I had an obligation to her and Jake to get back to being the dad they had known. I asked her what I had been like.
“Honestly, you were nice in some ways, but a bit distant, and a little dull.”
“I was dull?”
“Not boring, but not great fun either.”
“Would you want me back?”
“I suppose so, but I like you the way you are as well, even if it is a bit weird.”
That brought it home; nobody missed the old me that much. I had been a decent bloke who was also a bit boring and didn’t make any big emotional connections, not even with his kids, and especially not with his wife. I didn’t tell Natalie about the new hypnotherapist appointment.
That evening I talked about it with Della. She couldn’t comment on whether I had been dull because she hadn’t known me in those years, and she had never heard anyone talk about me, even those who had seen me at times. I hadn’t made much of an impression on people. So I floated an idea.
“Maybe it’s better to stay the way I am.”
“Well I like the way you are.”
She gave me a big hug, and five minutes later we were in bed again.
The next morning I called the clinic in Birmingham and told them I didn’t feel prepared and wouldn’t be along. The woman on the phone was understanding and said I could always get back in touch if I wanted to do the sessions. I was glad that I might have a second chance but hoped that I wouldn’t feel a need to take it. Then I faced up to the prospect of calling my wife and kids, and my mum, and letting them know that I was letting go.
I had lost a lot of years, and decided I could live without them.
Image by ManojITT, public domain through Wikimedia Commons
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Comments
sometimes the best you is the
sometimes the best you is the the one we grow into?
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oh that's a really
oh that's a really interesting way in which to end - very believable. A really enjoyable and skilfully constructed short - thank you!
one small typo:
then I go the OK for hypnotherapy
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I liked that you made it seem
I liked that you made it seem it was his Life that had been blank since the first accident, as if that had nudged his character off its frequency, and the second accident nudged it back
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Thoughtful and poignant. That
Thoughtful and poignant. That's a good take on the usual plot driver of recovering lost memories to restore the natural order of things.
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