Could It Be Magic?. Melanie Rose

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       Chapter Two

      A hushed silence filled the room. We all turned to where a small red-headed boy stood eyeing us from the doorway, tightly holding a soft, brightly coloured ball.

      ‘What did you say?’ I asked softly.

      ‘Mummy’s gone. She caught fire, and now you’s here. I want my mummy!’

      And Teddy began to cry.

      I realised I was clenching my hands together so tightly that the beautifully manicured fingernails were digging painfully into my palms. My breath, which had left my body in a rush with Nicole’s revelation, was having trouble drawing back into my lungs. The fact that it seemed Teddy could see me, Jessica, and not his mother changed everything.

      The boy’s comment had first filled me with a sick kind of dread that this wasn’t just a ghastly dream after all—but in the next heartbeat I felt the beginnings of hope. I wasn’t alone any more in this strange place where everyone insisted one thing while I believed another. This small child saw past the outward appearance of his mother’s body and into the person inside. I wanted to hug him for joy.

      ‘Come here, er…Teddy.’ I reached out a hand to him. Some instinct told me to take things very slowly.

      He eyed the offered hand suspiciously but I gave him an encouraging smile as he inched a pace or two closer before stopping. Realising he wasn’t going to come any nearer, I fixed my eyes on his. Something in his expression warned me to be as honest as possible with him. ‘You’re right, Teddy. I’m not the same mummy as before. I don’t know what’s happened…’ I ran my gaze over his confused, tear-stained face and felt a gamut of emotions run through me. I felt a deep sympathy for him, gratitude, and a mixture of relief tinged with fear for myself at his reaction. Struggling to find the right thing to say to comfort and reassure him, I shrugged and ended helplessly, ‘It’ll be all right, Teddy. Everything will sort itself out, you’ll see.’

      Teddy wiped his nose on the cuff of his blue sweatshirt and sniffed loudly.

      ‘Don’t be so silly, Teddy,’ Grant said, going over to the boy and picking him up. ‘Come and give Mummy a kiss.’

      Grant lifted the boy onto my lap, and I reached out to pat him awkwardly.

      Teddy twisted his shoulder away from my touch and scowled at me.

      ‘Teddy!’ Grant admonished him, giving me an apologetic glance.

      ‘I don’t mind,’ I said tiredly, not wanting the boy to have to kiss me any more than he seemed to want to do it. ‘None of this is his fault either. This is confusing for all of us.’

      The other children ignored the interchange and chatted together while Toby jumped on the bed, jarring my burns until Nurse Sally arrived to change the dressings and suggested to my husband that he take the children home.

      ‘You look about done in,’ she said when they had gone. She removed one of the pillows and I settled down at last to rest. ‘Try to sleep. You never know, your memory might come back in the morning.’

      I was desperate to speak to the doctor again. I had a million questions to ask, but visions of Dr Shakir’s fascinated expression when he’d looked at me set off warning bells in my mind, and I pressed my lips together, nodding obediently. I closed my eyes, realising how tired I really was after the immense shocks of the day. I lay for a while listening to the sounds of the hospital around me: metal trolleys being wheeled, doors creaking open and closed, the soft steps and hushed tones of the night staff as they exchanged news, and then I was asleep.

      Yet it seemed no time at all before I was being shaken awake. The nurse bending over me was a different girl. Nurse Sally must be off-duty, I realised dozily as I sat up, accepting the drink that was pressed into my hand. Eyes half-closed, I sipped the warm tea gratefully, feeling the heat and sweetness of it seeping into my being. Reaching out to put the empty cup on the hospital cabinet, I felt the empty space with my hand too late, and both cup and saucer fell with a crash to the floor.

      Wriggling into a sitting position, I looked in dismay at the mess. The bedside cabinet wasn’t where it had been when I dropped off to sleep. It was on the opposite side of the bed and it looked somehow different. The silver light of early morning was creeping into the room from a wide window at one end of the ward. A four-bedded ward. I counted the beds with growing disbelief. Had they moved me from my side room in the night?

      Alarmed, I found the red buzzer at the head of my hospital bed and buzzed long and hard, my hand shaking with growing confusion.

      A male nurse came running.

      ‘What’s the problem, Ms Taylor?’

      My mouth dropped open in astonishment.

      ‘You called me Ms Taylor,’ I heard myself whisper. ‘How do you know my name?’

      ‘The man who brought you in found your name and address on your dog’s collar,’ the nurse replied soothingly. ‘Now don’t get yourself all worked up. He said to tell you he’s taken the dog home with him for the time being. He said you weren’t to worry about Frankie, she’s in good hands.’

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