Could It Be Magic?

This was one hell of a dream, I told myself, hastily covering the ring over again with the tape. But dream or otherwise, I hadn’t missed the signs of anxiety in his demeanour when he’d mentioned the children. Despite the extraordinary circumstances, my curiosity was aroused.

‘What else?’ I queried, ‘about the children? You were holding something back then.’

‘I was going to add, “especially Teddy”,’ Grant said quietly.

‘Teddy?’

‘Edward, the younger of the twin boys,’ he explained. ‘There were complications at their birth. Toby was breech, and took a long time coming out. Teddy didn’t get enough oxygen to his brain while Toby was being born. He’s got…learning difficulties.’

I pondered this last piece of news with a sinking heart. I might be experiencing a vivid dream, but I was still here, living this life until I awoke, and it seemed to be getting more complicated by the second. How could I be capable of being a mother to all those children? Especially a child with special needs. What sort of wonder woman had this Lauren been? I hoped I would wake up soon, because if Dr Shakir was right and this was somehow real, I seriously doubted that I would ever be able to match up to her.

I suddenly felt very tired. Something in my face must have alerted Grant to my impending exhaustion, and he stood up quietly. ‘I’ll take the children home,’ he said, stooping to plant a kiss on my forehead. This time I didn’t turn my face away, but he must have seen the flicker of apprehension in my eyes because I saw the sorrow etched upon his face.

‘I hope the children won’t be upset not to see me,’ I murmured guiltily.

‘They’ll cope for now,’ he answered firmly. ‘We all will. Look,’ he added, ‘can I bring them back this afternoon, when you’ve rested?’

I nodded, wishing I had the courage to refuse him, but it seemed so petty when the children were obviously missing their mother so much, and anyway, I told myself, I might have woken up by then.

As the door closed behind him, I lay back against the pillows with a groan. ‘You’d better be wrong, Dr Shakir,’ I mumbled to the ceiling. ‘I’m Jessica, not Lauren. I’ll wake up soon and prove I’m still me.’

Grant returned later with a huge bunch of flowers that the nurse put in a large vase next to the small vase containing the flowers one of the girls had brought me earlier. Nurse Sally, as she liked to be known, had extracted the flowers from the child before the family had left, promising her I would get them.

‘Sunflowers, my favourite!’ I exclaimed when Nurse Sally had left us alone together.

Grant looked intently at me, hope lighting his features. ‘You’ve always loved them,’ he whispered, taking my hand. Do you remember that month-long holiday we took in Provence, before we had the children? Those fields of towering sunflowers seemed to go on forever and we filled all the jars and vases in the villa with them. ’

‘I love sunflowers in my real life,’ I replied stubbornly. ‘The life where I’m not married and have no children.’

‘Stop it, Lauren,’ Grant said, abruptly letting go of my hand. ‘There is no other life!’ He closed his eyes for a moment, as if to contain himself, then opened them again, and even though I hardly knew him I thought he looked drained and weary. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m struggling with this as much as you are. I don’t know what to do.’ He sank down onto the visitor’s chair and ran a hand tiredly over his eyes. ‘I can’t bear it that you don’t remember us,’ he said quietly. ‘All those years, all the experiences we’ve shared, the loves, the sorrows, the energy we’ve put into our children. If you don’t recall any of it, it’s as if it’s all gone, it might as well never have happened. I feel like I’ve lost you.’

He leaned towards me, but I instinctively pulled back from him and he regarded me with haunted eyes. ‘I love you, Lauren. When they called to say you’d been rushed in here, and that your heart had stopped, I thought you were dead. Have you any idea how that feels? I thought I’d lost you forever, and I realised I couldn’t bear it. When the doctors said you’d live, I was so, so grateful. But you’re not really here with us, are you? I’ve lost you after all.’

I stared at him in dismay, not wanting to hurt this stranger, but unable to help him either. It was bad enough that I’d unwittingly arrived into this nightmare, but now I had this man’s distress to cope with too. Why wouldn’t I wake up? I’d never dreamed so long and so realistically before; not even when I’d eaten cheese or indulged in spicy foods before going to bed. Once, when I’d eaten a particularly hot curry when out with my girlfriends, I had dreamed strange haunting dreams on and off all night; but never anything like this. How long would it last?

I looked into his tortured face, saw the tears not far away, and realised that while I was here I was going to have to deal with the situation as best I could.

‘I’m sorry, Grant. I didn’t want any of this to happen,’ I told him quietly. ‘It isn’t anyone’s fault. I understand that you want things to be like they were before, but they can’t be. I don’t remember being your wife. I don’t want to be Lauren. There’s nothing I can do about it.’

He stared at me with tear-filled eyes, then rose from the chair and came to perch on the edge of the bed. He took my hand in his and squeezed it, and it took all my willpower to leave it where it was.

‘You’ll stay with us, though, won’t you?’ he asked. ‘You won’t leave us?’

I was still desperately contemplating my answer when the door opened and Nurse Sally shepherded the children into the room.

‘Mummy!’ they shrieked, bounding towards us.

‘Careful now,’ Grant admonished them, rising awkwardly and sniffing back his tears as the children climbed around us on the bed. ‘Don’t forget Mummy’s not well.’

Feeling like I was watching myself in a strange play, I let Grant introduce the children to me. The children had been told I’d lost my memory and seemed to find it amusing that I didn’t remember who they were.

‘Sophie here brought you the flowers,’ he told me, smiling proudly at his elder daughter.

‘Thank you, Sophie,’ I said, taking in the long chestnut hair so like her father’s, the frank green eyes.

‘Nicole made you the get well card.’

‘It’s lovely,’ I told her with a smile. ‘You got my hair just right.’

‘It was what it looked like when the lightning got you,’ she answered. ‘It stuck up just like that and sort of glowed.’

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach.

‘You saw it?’ I asked in dismay. ‘You saw the lightning strike me?’ Nurse Sally’s question about who I’d been with at the time of the accident echoed in my ears.

Nicole nodded. ‘It was awesome!’

‘Nicole!’ Grant scolded his daughter, ‘Don’t make it sound as if you enjoyed seeing Mummy getting hurt.’

‘I saw it, I saw it,’ cried one of the twins as he jumped at the end of the bed, narrowly missing my feet and causing waves of pain to shoot across my back. ‘Mummy was on fire!’

Grant looked as if he were about to chastise the boy I assumed was Toby, when a sorrowful little voice from the corner piped up. We all stopped talking as the second twin repeated sadly, ‘That isn’t Mummy. My mummy’s gone, and she’s here instead!’

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.’

I felt the wetness on my face and knew I was crying, though no sound escaped my lips. The nurse tut-tutted and patted my hand sympathetically.

‘That’s right, Jessica,’ he said. ‘Have a good cry. You’re probably still in shock from the lightning strike. You’re a very lucky young lady, you know.’

I nodded, leaning my head back on the starched hospital pillows, and gave a deep, shuddering sigh. So it had all been a nightmare. I’d been hit by lightning but the rest of it had been a ghastly, unsettling dream caused by nothing more than the shock of what had happened to me. I was still me, still Jessica Taylor. I peered down at my ringless fingers and wanted to sob for joy.

Glancing up, I watched as the nurse made his way back down the ward in search of a dustpan and brush. There were no small children hiding in the shadows, no husband trying to convince me I was his wife. As soon as the nurse was out of sight, I turned my face into the pillow and wept with relief.

I found it disconcerting to realise how my mind had worked on things while I had slept. In the dream I’d pictured myself much more damaged by the chance lightning strike than it appeared I actually was. In reality, there was no drip in my arm; no heart monitors attached to my chest and no large bandage round my neck and shoulders. It was as if I had prepared myself for the worst, and now I was pleasantly surprised to find myself almost unscathed.

A very young Chinese intern came to see me soon after I’d finished the rather spartan hospital breakfast of cornflakes and toast. He introduced himself as Dr Chin and assured me I’d got off very lightly.

‘The burns to your back and shoulder are minimal,’ he explained. ‘We have dressed the wounds lightly to prevent infection, but they are superficial and should heal in a few days without leaving permanent scarring.’

‘No antibiotics required then?’ I asked.

He shook his head, peering at a chart that had been hanging at the foot of the bed. ‘We only admitted you to the ward because you had not regained consciousness, but your two-hourly observations through the night have proved satisfactory.’

‘Did my heart stop at any time?’ I asked anxiously.

The intern shook his head of sleek black hair. ‘No, no, nothing like that. You are a very strong woman.’ He paused before adding, ‘You sleep very deeply, Ms Taylor. You have been asleep since yesterday. How do you feel now?’

I thought about this for a moment or two, then grinned at him. ‘I feel fine. Can I go home then?’

‘We will wait for the consultant’s ward round,’ he said, nodding. ‘But I am sure everything will be okay.’

He made as if to leave, then turned back to me and smiled. ‘Do you know that once, the Chinese believed lightning to be a very unlucky omen? It was thought that lightning was a sign of God’s disapproval. I do not think you are unlucky, though, Ms Taylor, in fact, I think you had a very lucky escape.’

You are not kidding, I thought, watching him scurry off down the ward. I lay back gingerly against the pillows, careful not to snag the light gauze dressing on my left shoulder. In my mind’s eye I pictured Grant and the four children. They had seemed so real at the time, and I wondered from where I had conjured up their names and images. It occurred to me as my mind drifted into a light doze that it was strange how I could remember the dream so clearly. I gave an involuntary shudder. It also occurred to me that I had indeed had a very lucky escape.

The ward round consisted of four white-coated doctors hovering round a fifth in ascending orders of rank, clustering together round each bed in turn. It was immediately apparent which was the most senior doctor, and, from the obsequious half-bows of Dr Chin, who stood on the furthest outer ring of the gravitational field of the consultant, I ascertained that my doctor was probably the most lowly figure among them. The realisation gave me fresh cause to breathe a sigh of relief. A less experienced doctor must mean that my injuries were minor and little cause for concern.

My mind went back to the dream and Lauren’s injuries. She had been far more badly injured than I had been. Of course she wasn’t real, just a figment of my imagination, but I wondered why, if I’d invented her, I had also envisaged her as having been struck more severely by the lightning—badly enough, it seemed, for her heart to have stopped beating altogether.

With half my mind still preoccupied by Lauren and the dream, I watched as the consultant, a bald-headed man with a smart pinstripe suit visible inside the flapping white lab coat, looked down his sharp beak-like nose at me as if appraising a joint of meat for his Sunday roast. I tried to dismiss the picture of the buzzard that leapt into my mind as I pulled the bedclothes protectively round my chest.

The buzzard spoke in a rather bored voice that belied the interest in his eyes. ‘So, what have we here?’

Dr Chin sprang into action, gripping my notes and reading jerkily, ‘This is Ms Taylor. Twenty-eight years of age. She was admitted yesterday with minor burns to the left back and shoulder after being hit by lightning.’

‘Ah, the lightning girl, eh? Saved by her coat. Jolly lucky escape, Ms Taylor, if I may say so.’ The consultant smirked and turned his attention back to the anxious intern. ‘Any related problems?’

‘Ms Taylor was unconscious on arrival. Two-hourly obs showed everything reading normal. On regaining consciousness, she seemed disorientated, but has since recovered all her faculties.’

‘So, ready to go home then, Ms Taylor?’

I nodded.

‘Good, good, I think we can discharge her today.’

Losing interest quickly, he moved to a bed on the opposite side of the room. I watched as he stared distastefully down at the next unfortunate patient swathed in bedclothes. ‘And what have we here?’ he intoned unemotionally from the other side of the room.

A commotion at the entrance to the ward diverted my attention from the huddle of doctors round the far bed. The male nurse who had been so kind to me earlier was talking earnestly with a visitor, whose face was barely visible behind a large bunch of flowers.

‘You’ll have to wait until the ward round is finished,’ the nurse was saying in hushed tones. ‘You can wait in the visitors’ room. Who is it you’ve come to see?’

The man lowered the flowers a fraction, and my whole body tensed with a mixture of excitement and apprehension as I recognised the stranger from the previous day. My first instinct was to slide down under the covers and pull the sheet over my head, but my body seemed to be stuck rigidly in position. He glanced into the room, his eyes searching, coming to rest on my face.

He looked different to how I’d remembered him, his short hair framing a square, masculine face. Behind the flowers he was wearing beige cargo pants with an open-necked polo shirt hanging loose at a slim boyish waist. Thank goodness I wasn’t connected to a heart monitor like in the dream, I thought, as I felt the blood pounding round my veins. It would have beeped off the scale!

He waved at me over the flowers, then followed the nurse out into the corridor, presumably to wait until the buzzard had finished his round. As soon as he was out of sight, I bolted upright and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to tease out some of the tangles. Quickly, I rummaged through the bedside cabinet, but this time there was no handy brush, mine or otherwise. I couldn’t believe it. Here I was without so much as a hairbrush or lipstick, when the most handsome man I had set eyes on for years was about to come visiting.

By the time the consultant and his followers had left the ward, I was feeling sick with apprehension. What was I supposed to say to this man whose name I didn’t even know? We’d met so briefly, so intensely in the violence of the storm. What must he think of me, a muddy, soaked-to-the-skin girl who was stupid enough to be struck by a bolt of lightning five minutes after we’d met?

My cheeks flushed again at the thought, and I buried my face in my hands with a groan of embarrassment.

‘Hi there.’

I dropped my hands and looked up. He was standing smiling at me, as if he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. With calm, measured movements, he handed the flowers to me, pulled up a red vinyl hospital chair and sat down next to the bed.

‘How are you feeling today?’

‘Better, thanks,’ I croaked. ‘I’ve just been told I can go home later.’ Clearing my throat, I tried to gain control of my vocal cords. ‘I owe you a big thank you. The nurse told me you brought me in yesterday.’

‘I couldn’t very well leave you lying unconscious in the rain,’ he said with a smile.

The twinkle in his deep blue eyes was disconcerting. I tried to stop my lips from forming into an indignant pout and forced myself to remember my manners.

‘The nurse also said you were minding Frankie for me. I can’t thank you enough.’

‘It’s the least I could do,’ he said, his smile widening broadly.

‘You’re laughing at me,’ I accused him in a teasing voice. ‘I realise I probably don’t look much of a picture lying here in a hospital gown, with no make-up, but you could have the decency to at least pretend I’m not a complete mess.’

‘Are we having our first argument?’ he asked with a grin.

I stared at him, momentarily speechless, then burst out laughing. I remembered then how we’d laughed at each other the first moment we’d met.

‘I suppose you’ve not seen me looking anything other than a mess,’ I managed when the laughter had died down.

‘You’re really not all that bad,’ he said quietly. ‘With or without make-up, soaked to the skin and smouldering in a puddle, or looking palely interesting in a hospital gown.’

I gazed up at him, wondering if he was joking, this knight in shining armour who had appeared in my life like a bolt from the blue. Despite the twinkle in his eyes I had the feeling he was being serious. I wanted to say that he was the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen, but I thought better of it, smiled instead and asked him his name.

‘I’m Daniel Brennan,’ he said formally, holding out his hand. ‘Dan to my friends.’

‘Hello Dan,’ I replied. ‘I believe you already found out my name from Frankie’s disc.’

‘Yeah, you had no handbag, nothing in your pockets. Then I realised your dog had a nametag on her collar with your details on the back.’

‘A regular Sherlock Holmes,’ I laughed. ‘Is Frankie okay?’

‘She went frantic when the lightning struck,’ Dan said. ‘I thought she was going to bury you with mud before I could get to you.’

‘Poor Frankie.’

‘It wasn’t too great for any of us,’ he said, his expression serious at last. ‘At first, I thought you were dead, your breathing was so shallow I could hardly detect it, and the dogs were going wild. The rain just got worse and worse while I was trying to find a pulse, and you seemed to be getting so cold. In the end I just picked you up, threw you onto the back seat of my car wrapped in the dog blanket, chucked the dogs in the back and drove like hell to the nearest A & E department.’

‘I’m so sorry. It must have been awful for you.’

‘Do you know what I was thinking as I drove you here? Not what trouble I’d be in if I turned up with the dead body of an unknown female in my car, but how terrible it would be never to hear you laugh again.’

I looked at him askance, and was struggling to think of a suitable reply when he scraped back the chair and sprang to his feet.

‘Hey, I’ll get you a vase or something for these, shall I?’ He grabbed the flowers from my lap and took off down the ward with such speed I thought he was in danger of slipping on the shiny linoleum flooring.

I lay back as a tremor ran through my body that had nothing to do with the lightning strike.

He was gone a while, and I was beginning to think he had left the hospital when he reappeared with the flowers, still minus a vase.

‘I’ve been talking to the nurse,’ he said, resting the flowers on the top of the cabinet. ‘He said you can go home as soon as you’re ready. He’ll be along in a moment to sort you out.’ He gestured to the flowers. ‘We may as well take these home with us.’

The word ‘us’ sent another tremor down my spine, and I glanced up at him questioningly.

He grinned with his piercing Brad Pitt eyes. ‘I’m assuming you’ll need a lift, as your car is presumably somewhere in a car park near the Downs?’

Struggling to keep the excitement out of my voice, I nodded. ‘That would be very kind of you.’

‘It won’t be the first time you’ve been in my car, after all,’ he joked. ‘Only last time you were unconscious and dripping rainwater all over the upholstery.’

The nurse arrived with a bundle of clothing and asked if I wanted Dan on the inside or the outside of the curtain while I changed. I smiled inwardly at the assumption that Dan was my boyfriend. Dan held up his hands as the curtain was pulled round the bed and stepped smartly out into the ward.

The nurse produced a pair of scissors from his short tunic pocket and snipped off my plastic nametag. ‘The gauze dressing can come off in a few days,’ he said. ‘If you have any trouble see your GP, but your burns are minor. You were lucky to be wearing such a thick jacket.’ He straightened up. ‘There you are. Free to go. And next time stay indoors during thunderstorms!’

Slipping out of bed, I pulled off the thin hospital gown and laid it on the bed. It felt strange being upright; I was still a little shaky. Sinking down on the bed again I struggled into my underclothes, careful to position my bra strap well away from the sore spot on my shoulder, then pulled the jeans up and fastened them. Someone must have dried them for me overnight because although they were encrusted with mud they were bone dry. It was when I unfolded the sweater that I realised what the nurse had meant about how lucky I’d been to be virtually unscathed. On the back of the left shoulder was a blackened scorch mark about the size of an orange.

Gingerly, I smoothed out the old-fashioned sheepskin coat I used for dog walking. My mother had been going to donate it to a jumble sale years ago and had given it to me when I’d exclaimed how useful it would be for walking Frankie on the Downs in all weathers. I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck when I looked at the area around the shoulder where the lightning had struck. It had actually run into a singed mess closely resembling melted plastic.

Shuddering, I realised how close I must have come to being as badly injured as the Lauren of my dream. Was this ancient coat all that had stood between me and possible death? Tracing the burned area with my finger, I felt my mouth dry. If this vicious burn had been directed onto my skin and not deflected by the thick natural fabric of the coat, the consequences didn’t bear thinking about.

A measured Indian accent popped from the recesses of my brain. ‘In some cases this spark can generate a temperature of thirty thousand degrees centigrade, Lauren—about six times hotter than the surface of the sun.’

Oh no, I thought with a sickening jolt. Where had that come from?

I felt queasy suddenly, and was wondering if the hospital would give me a bowl to take with me in Dan’s car, when he stuck his head round the curtain.

‘You all right?’

Rubbing my face with my hands, I smiled wanly up at him. ‘I feel a bit sick actually. Is the nurse still around?’

‘I’ll go look.’

He came back quickly with the nurse in tow, who was all kindness and sympathy.

‘Do you want to wait here a while? See if it passes?’ The nurse felt my forehead with his hand. ‘It is possible the lightning has upset your ears, given you a sort of motion sickness. It has been known to cause deafness. Maybe I should fetch the doctor to check that out. Is your hearing okay? Your vision and everything all right?’

I nodded. ‘I’m fine, honestly, just feeling a bit sick. I was remembering a dream I had while I was unconscious. It made me feel strange, that’s all. Could I take a bowl with me, just in case?’

‘Of course,’ the nurse replied soothingly. ‘But I will also fetch Dr Chin to have a quick look at you. I’m sure it’s nothing to be alarmed about.’

Dan came through the curtain a moment after the nurse had left and sat next to me on the unmade bed. ‘He said I could come in and keep you company. That okay with you?’

I nodded again, swallowing hard to keep the tears of self-pity at bay.

‘I feel so stupid,’ I said between gulps. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with me, but I keep remembering this dream I had while I was unconscious…it seemed so real.’

‘The nurse said you might feel disorientated for a day or two.’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘I think they assume I’m your boyfriend. They’ve told me to keep an eye on you and treat you gently for a few days.’

‘Oh,’ I said lamely, looking down at my hands, which were folded in my lap.

‘If you don’t feel up to driving, I’ll drop you and Frankie at your home, then make myself scarce—if there’s someone there to take care of you.’

I knew it was a question rather than a statement, and I shook my head again.

‘There’s no one, not at present. And my parents live miles away.’ I hesitated. ‘But a lift to my car will be fine. I can take care of myself.’

‘I’m sure you can,’ he replied with a smile. ‘And I know we’re almost strangers. It’s just that I feel I’ve known you for years. And I want to make sure you’re okay.’