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  “John Major.” She closed her eyes briefly and let out a long breath. “Boring bastard.” The pretty woman gasped. “Sorry, I, like, didn’t mean to offend. He’s not that boring.”

  “It’s okay, Morgan. I’m sure she wasn’t really offended. What year is it?”

  “Nineteen ninety-two. What’s with all the questions doctor? Is my mum here?”

  “Sorry, Morgan, I have to ask these because you had quite a bash on the head. Can you bear with me a bit longer?”

  “Okay.”

  “Do you remember what happened to you?”

  Morgan frowned as she tried to pull the memory from the fog. Her eyes widened and the heart monitor beeped faster. “No. I can’t. What happened to me?”

  “Morgan, I need you to stay calm. It’s completely understandable with a head trauma that you can’t remember what happened to cause it. I was expecting that. Please take a nice deep breath and calm down. You’re doing fine. Okay?” He smiled gently as she followed his instructions and took a deep breath before exhaling loudly, groaning at the pain.

  “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Like I said, you’re doing fine. Your ribs are pretty badly bruised. They’re going to hurt for a while. What I need you to do now is remember three words for me. Pen, water, light. Can you remember them?

  “Pen, water, light.”

  “Good. You up for some more questions?”

  “Isn’t my mum going to be worried about me? Is she, like, outside?”

  “No, it’s late Morgan. Your mum isn’t out there.”

  “Oh, are you gonna call her then? To get her to come see me?”

  “I’ll talk to your relatives as soon as we finish up here.”

  “Okay. What else then?”

  “How old are you Morgan?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “And what do you do?”

  “I’m at uni. I’m doing art.”

  “That’s great.”

  “Yeah, when I finish university I’ll be, like, a real artist. Maybe go to Europe and draw while I travel around.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  “Yeah. How long have I been here?”

  “You were brought in three days ago. You’ve been unconscious ever since.”

  “No wonder my mum’s had to go home then. I bet my dad was going mental.” She grimaced. “Can I get another drink please? I feel like I’ve been on a weeklong pub crawl and got carpet instead of a tongue. What happened to me?”

  He laughed gently as he put the straw between her lips. “Not too much though. I don’t want you to get sick. With your head injury, that would not be fun at all.”

  “Suppose not. I’m knackered, doc. Any chance I can, like, have a nap and we do twenty questions later?”

  “Sure. I could do with talking to some of my colleagues. When I come back, there’ll probably be a few other people with me. That okay?”

  “Sure. Just don’t forget to tell my mum I woke up, and that I’m not a lazy git. All right?”

  “Sure.”

  Morgan was already sleeping when the door closed behind them. She forgot to ask who the woman was who had been there when she woke up.

  *

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Ms. Masters—”

  “Erin.”

  “Erin, I need to run more tests, but it would appear that Morgan has some memory issues—”

  “No! Really? What gave you that impression? The fact that she thinks John Major is still the prime minister or that she wants to see her mother?”

  “Does she not have an existing relationship with her mother?”

  “Her mother’s dead. So unless you’ve got an Ouija board handy, no one has an existing relationship with her.”

  “I see.”

  Erin pushed her hands through her hair. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap. I’m just…” She couldn’t find the words to describe what she was feeling at the point. Scared? Frustrated? Worried? Upset? Confused? None of them fit, yet all of them did. “She sounded more like our thirteen-year-old son than the woman I’ve been married to for the last fifteen years!”

  “Right now, she believes that she is a teenager.”

  “How can that be? I don’t understand.”

  “I need to speak to several people and run more tests. I also need to speak to Morgan more before we can find out exactly what’s going on. What I do know is that the brain is tricky. Morgan has a grade three head trauma. In cases like this, memory loss of the event that caused the trauma is extremely common. Depending on the extent of the injury, the memory loss can be permanent or temporary.”

  “Perm—”

  “If the trauma is extensive, it can affect longer term memories. Again, this can be permanent or temporary. At this stage, we don’t know. She could wake up in a few hours and be back to normal.”

  “How likely is that?”

  “The seizures she had may also complicate matters. I really need to speak with some of my colleagues.”

  “Sure. Yeah, okay.”

  “We’ll need to speak to you too. We’ll need to get her background from you so that we can check the things she does remember.”

  “I didn’t know her twenty years ago, and there are a lot of things from that time she won’t talk about.”

  “Is there anyone she still has contact with who knew her then?”

  “Yes. She has a couple of friends that she went to school with. Should I call them?”

  “Let me do some tests first and then we’ll see. Maybe you should go home and come back tomorrow. We’ll know more then, and there’s nothing more you can do here tonight.”

  “I think I’d rather wait here. You may need me to answer questions or something.”

  *

  “Morgan, how are you feeling this morning? Can you remember the three things I asked you—”

  “Pen, water, light. You’ve had someone asking me that stupid question all night. What’s wrong with me? What’s with all the bandages round my head? And who the hell cut my hair? I know it’s not a hangover, doc, but it sure as hell feels like a bad one. Have you spoken to my mum yet? When’s she coming in?”

  “Morgan, this is my colleague Dr. Rebecca Bann. She’s a psychologist here at the hospital, and she’s going to help me out with your case. We need to ask some more questions. Are you ready for it?”

  “Did you speak to my mum?”

  “I have been in contact with your family, and you’ll get to see them soon.”

  “Fire away then, doc.”

  Thirty minutes later, the two doctors were exchanging quick glances and Dr. Bann sat on the edge of the bed. “Morgan, thank you for answering all my questions, but I have something very difficult to tell you, and I want to ask someone else to come in while I do that, okay?”

  “Erm, yeah. Okay.”

  Dr. Reynolds opened the door of the room and spoke quietly to whoever was outside. Morgan wiped her hands against the blanket, nerves making them clammy. When Dr. Reynolds came back into the room, she couldn’t stop herself from smiling at the woman who came in behind him. She didn’t notice that everyone was watching her for a reaction.

  “Morgan, do you remember this woman?” Dr. Bann was studying her face intently.

  “Well, yeah. She was here last night when I woke up.” She dropped her voice and whispered slightly. “She seemed a bit shocked when I said John Major was a boring bastard. Is she a nurse or something?”

  “No. Erin doesn’t work in the hospital. But we’ll get to that shortly. Can you remember the three things I asked you—”

  “Water, light, pen. Doc, do you think we can, like, wait for my mum before you tell me the bad news?”

  “What makes you think I have bad news?”

  “The reinforcements.”

  “Right. Of course. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Morgan, this isn’t nineteen ninety-two. It’s two thousand and twelve.”

  Morgan smiled and started to laug
h. “Oh, Doc, that’s fantastic.” Relief at the little joke coursed through her. “Two thousand and twelve. Bugger me, that’s funny. Who put you up to that? I bet it was Nikki. She’s a scream! So, like, what’s really going on, doc?” She took a deep breath trying to calm the laughter that bordered on hysterical. Two thousand and twelve, that’s hilarious.

  They weren’t laughing. Why aren’t they laughing, too? They were just watching her. Watching as she giggled to herself, concern and pity written in every line on their faces as they waited. She didn’t know what they were waiting for. Her reaction? Hadn’t she just given them that, when she caught on to their game? When she guessed that Nikki would be the mastermind behind their little ruse? Why the fuck aren’t they laughing?

  Dr. Bann took a deep breath and started again. “Morgan, it’s two thousand and twelve. You’re thirty-nine years old, and John Maj—”

  “Shut the fuck up. I’m not stupid. I went to uni this morning…well, whatever morning it was. I’m nineteen. Ask my mum!” She tried to shuffle up the bed, to get away from them, but the pain in her ribs and shoulder stopped her.

  “Morgan, please calm down. You were hurt and it’s affected your memory—”

  “My memory’s just fine, fuck you very much. Where’s my mum?”

  “Morgan, your mum isn’t here.” Dr. Bann pushed her glasses up her nose.

  “Well, call her then. Tell her I’m awake and she can come and get me.” Morgan tried to sit up using the non-aching arm.

  “It isn’t quite as simple as—”

  “Simple? It’s very fucking simple. You, like, pick up the phone, you press the numbers, and you wait until she answers. When she does, you tell her I’m awake and she can come get me. Simple.”

  “I don’t think that will work.”

  “Why not? Don’t tell me my dad hasn’t paid the bill again and got us cut off. Rotten bastard. That’s it isn’t it? He spent it on booze again, I’ll bet.” She picked at the blanket over her legs. “Okay, I’ll give you Nikki’s number. If you call her, she’ll go round to my mum’s and give her the message. She owes me after that twenty year joke.”

  “Morgan, it isn’t about the telephone being cut off.” Dr. Bann took off her glasses, folded the stems, and tucked them into her breast pocket. Bann, Reynolds, and the woman were all casting glances between themselves.

  “Then get her here. I want to speak to my mum. Is that difficult to understand?”

  The woman, Erin, stepped forward and took hold of her hand. Morgan tried to pull it away, but she wasn’t letting go. “Morgan, we can’t get your mum here.”

  “Why not? She’s my mum. She’ll come.”

  “Morgan, she can’t. She died.”

  Fear settled in the pit of her stomach, and it was all she could do not to throw up as she shook her head and whispered, “I don’t believe you.”

  Erin’s voice was quiet, soft as she soothed the panic growing in Morgan. “I’m so sorry, but it’s true.”

  Everything felt wrong. The air rushed out of the room, leaving in its place a stale, bitter tasting substitute that burned the back of her throat and lay heavy in her lungs, suffocating her, even as she pulled in one breath after another. The smell of antibacterial soap faded, and the odors it covered clambered to the front. Blood. Urine. Sweat. Death. Each one vied to the front, desperate for her attention. The color drained from her vision, and Erin’s ice blue eyes turned gray as she continued to stare at her. Blinking required more control than she could manage.

  There was no doubting the look in Erin’s eyes, and Morgan couldn’t fight the truth she saw there. As wrong as everything else felt, Erin felt right. “What happened? Was she in this accident with me?”

  Erin shook her head. “No, sweetie, she died nearly twenty years ago. You weren’t in an accident; you were attacked.” Erin stroked her fingers down Morgan’s cheek.

  “Twenty years?” Morgan lifted her hand to her cheek, smoothing her fingertips from the corner of her eye down to her lips, feeling for physical signs of aging. “No. That can’t be right.” Morgan shook her head and tried to sit herself up again.

  It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense, and she clung to the possibility that there was a mistake. “My mum’s not dead. She can’t be. There has to have been a mistake.” Erin tugged gently on Morgan’s hand, forcing her attention back to the present, away from the escalating panic rising inside her. She couldn’t help staring into Erin’s eyes. There was something so familiar in them. It felt so natural to seek comfort from this woman, to be touched by her. To believe her. “Who are you?”

  Erin swallowed hard, and Morgan could tell she was debating how to answer her. Her eyes flickered down and her brow creased. Morgan didn’t know how she knew, but she knew that these were signs of indecision in Erin. “It doesn’t matter. What matters right now, is that you trust that what we’re telling you is the truth, and that you let us help you get better.”

  “Trust you? How can I do that when you won’t tell me who you are?”

  Erin looked at the doctors, obviously searching for some sort of guidance. Shrugs and empty stares were all she got. They don’t know what to say. They don’t know what’s going to freak me out more. They’re, like, telling the truth. No. That can’t be right. Twenty years? Twenty years, just gone. I can’t believe it.

  “If you aren’t going to tell me, then you better prove what you’re saying about it being two thousand and twelve.”

  Erin sighed. “That I can do.”

  Chapter Four

  Erin walked slowly down the corridor. Her mind shifted between the two versions of Morgan. The one who’d ignored her tears and walked out of their home, and the one who had leaned into her touch in her hospital bed. Scared, alone, confused. Erin’s desire to walk away and protect what was left of her dignity was at war with years of taking care of the woman she loved. Holding her was second nature, and loving her as natural as breathing. But she couldn’t escape the fact that Morgan had walked away from her. She’d taken Erin’s love and turned her back on it; no reason, no excuse. She was just gone. The anger welled in her chest. Anger, that’s good. I can live with that.

  Erin held a bag full of magazines and newspapers in her hand. She wants me to prove it? Fine. I’ll do this and then I can leave her to it. I only have to deal with her in regards to the kids—oh fuck!

  She won’t remember the kids.

  Gut-wrenching sorrow replaced her anger. The thought of having to tell their children that their mother didn’t remember them swamped her. Her knees buckled and she put her hand on the wall to steady herself. Acid churned in her stomach, and she looked around for a bathroom. She barely made it before she lost her battle and threw up in the sink.

  She cried as she pictured ten-year-old Maddie’s dark eyes, so much like Morgan’s, filled with tears. She could see Tristan fighting desperately not to cry, but the questions would burn so bright in his blue eyes. Thirteen and embarrassed by his mums, but still he would need to know whether Morgan would still love him. How do you reconcile loving the mother who doesn’t even know you exist? How the hell could she answer that?

  Later. I’ll have to deal with that later. I can only do one thing at once.

  She washed her face and slowly gathered herself physically and emotionally, readying herself for the next step—whatever the hell that was—before she made her way to Morgan’s room.

  She took a deep breath and pushed the door open again, then stepped inside. Morgan was staring out the window but smiled when their eyes met.

  “Hi.” Morgan’s voice still sounded scratchy, and her lips were dry and cracked.

  “Hey. Do you need anything?” She dropped the bag onto the table and pushed her hair behind her ear.

  “Exit from the time warp?”

  Erin smiled. “I meant a drink or something.” She pointed to the water jug on the table.

  “I know what you meant.” She pointed at the bag. “What’s in the bag?”

  “Proof.�
�� Erin started to reach into the bag as the telltale emotions flittered across Morgan’s face. Confusion. Fear. Panic. All so clear. Her vulnerability clutched at Erin’s heart, and it was all she could do not to reach for her, to hold her.

  Morgan shifted uncomfortably. “I, erm, I don’t think—I’m not sure I want—”

  “You don’t want to see this?”

  Morgan shrugged.

  “Why not?” Erin waited, tapping her nails against each other. “Morgan, why not?”

  “Because then it’s, like, real.”

  Erin’s heart ached at how terrified Morgan looked. “Not seeing this doesn’t change that.”

  “It does for me.”

  Ah, denial. “Mm, but only for a little while.”

  “I know.” Morgan closed her eyes and dropped her head back to the pillows. “But then it’s not so scary for a little while.” Morgan turned her head and stared out the window again.

  “Hiding from it won’t help.”

  “What will?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So how am I supposed to know?”

  Erin scrabbled for something to stop the spiral of doubt. “Tell me something that you remember.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything. Whatever you were thinking about when I came in.”

  “Is this, like, a test?”

  Like, like, bloody like. She sounds like Tristan! And he’s only thirteen. No, I won’t think about that now. I can’t. She picked at a bit of lint on the blanket covering the bed. “No. You just looked peaceful when I came in. I thought you must have been thinking about something nice, that’s all”

  “I was remembering my mum.”

  Erin perched at the foot of the bed and waited for her to carry on.

  “She’s always—she was always on me, or at me to make notes of everything, at school, so that I didn’t forget anything. She says—she said that you never know when something might be important.” Morgan’s voice caught and she coughed. “I don’t remember anything now. Important or not.”

  Erin scrabbled for something reassuring to say. “The doctors think your memory may come back.”