‘You. Just sitting there like that, you look just like you did when you were thirteen years old.’
‘Wow. It’s compliments like that which have kept you single,’ I confirmed, reaching for another croissant.
It took over an hour to carry out all the boxes and load them in the back of Jimmy’s car. We were in the lift, halfway back up to my floor to collect the next load, when my mobile phone began to ring once again: as it had been doing at regular intervals for the past few hours. I pulled it from the pocket of my jeans, checked the identity on the backlit display, and pressed the button to disconnect the call.
‘Matt again?’ Jimmy asked succinctly.
I nodded, sliding the phone back into my pocket. ‘He’ll give up eventually,’ I pronounced.
‘You think so?’ Jimmy asked obliquely, as we reached our floor. He had his back to me as the doors opened, so I couldn’t read his expression when he added softly, ‘I wouldn’t.’
Interesting. Very interesting.
I pulled the door shut on the flat for the last time a little while later. I supposed I would have to come back here at some point in time to sort out the lease and utilities, but to all intents and purposes I had now officially moved out.
‘You OK?’ Jimmy asked, giving my shoulder a comforting squeeze.
‘Surprisingly, yes,’ I answered.
‘Good,’ he declared. ‘Because if you get your memory back and want this stuff all moved in again, you’ll have to find someone else to do it!’
I laughed, but something of what he said lingered with me as we made our way back to his car. What if I did regret the decisions I was making now when my memory returned? The picture of Matt and Cathy drifted back to me – it really was going to take some time to get rid of that one. No, some decisions would hold up whatever Dr Andrews helped me to remember.
The traffic was fairly light considering how close we were to Christmas; perhaps the darkening sky and gusting wind were keeping people away from London. Either way, it was warm and safe in Jimmy’s car, or was that just the way he made me feel when we were together?
‘Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do about your magazine job?’
I frowned. I had thought about it. A lot. It was actually a much harder prospect to give that up than almost anything else. That particular career had been my dream for so many years, it was ironic that it should now feel vaguely wrong and fraudulent that it was mine without having earned it.
‘That’s daft,’ said Jimmy, when I tried to explain my hesitancy in staying there. ‘You saw those articles you wrote. You are good. You deserve that job.’ I basked a little in his praise, and gave a wistful sigh.
‘Maybe. I don’t know. I can probably drag out making a final decision for a few more weeks yet.’
‘Of course,’ Jimmy said speculatively, another alternative just occurring to him, ‘you might be able to get your old job back on the paper. Your dad once said they’d welcome you back anytime.’
That idea hadn’t even occurred to me and I was still considering the suggestion when he added, ‘And it would be good to have you closer to home.’
I turned to look out through the rain-splattered passenger window, so he wouldn’t see the ridiculous little smile his words had plastered on my face.
And that’s when the axis of my world tipped once again and the craziness came back.
‘Turn left here!’
Jimmy took his eyes off the road, clearly startled by the urgency in my voice.
‘What? Why? That’s the wrong way.’
Something in my face told him to question no further, and in a move that probably deserved the blaring horn from the taxi he cut up, Jimmy swerved from one lane to another and turned left.
‘Straight ahead at these lights,’ I commanded.
Again he looked at me questioningly, but I just shook my head, and he didn’t probe further. A busy junction approached.
‘Which way?’ he asked.
‘Take a right here and then follow the road down to the end. It bends sharply to the left.’
He never once questioned me; never tried to get me to stop or explain where I was directing him. He never even flinched at the curtly barked out instructions, except for once commenting softly, ‘You know, the satnav lady is much more courteous.’
I nearly smiled then, nearly relaxed a little, which would have been a welcome relief, for my heart was pounding erratically and my stomach felt twisted in knots as we wound our way through countless side streets and back turns. I felt like I was being dragged back by some irresistible and unstoppable force that was drawing me like a magnet to our destination.