Fractured(85)

‘I know you might find it a little hard to believe, but actually, Joe, I’m your friend.’

Joe fixed me with a long hard stare. He then turned a similar look upon Jimmy.

‘Ah no,’ Jimmy corrected, ‘I am a total stranger. Rachel’s the one who knows you.’

Once again Joe looked back at me, still so openly confused that I felt sorry we had dragged him into this. He had enough to cope with already.

‘If we are friends then how come I don’t know you? I’ve a good memory, you need it in my job. And I don’t forget a face and I would most definitely remember spilling the details of my private life to some stranger.’

I smiled to soften my words, hoping he wouldn’t mis-interpret the baring of teeth as an act of aggression.

‘I know this sounds crazy. But we are friends. Good ones. And the reason I know so much about you and your family, especially about Muriel’s illness, is because I have been going through something similar myself, with my dad.’

For the first time Joe’s expression softened, revealing the kindly man who had been such a support to me as we swapped concerns and worries over loved ones who were battling the same illness.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he mumbled, and at last realising that we meant no malice here, he continued, ‘But I still don’t know how you could possibly know the details that you know. I’ve had to be so careful about not letting anyone at work find out. There’ve been so many redundancies recently, I couldn’t risk giving them a reason to let me go.’

‘I know,’ I said softly. This worry had been a familiar theme to many of our conversations. As had the progress of our respective family members in their fight for life. We had bonded together and both gained strength from it. It was sad that in this new version of the world, Joe didn’t have anyone he could share his burden with.

‘But how do you know all this?’ Joe asked once again. ‘Who was it who told you?’

I couldn’t evade the question a second time.

‘You did.’


I don’t know if we ever managed to convince Joe that we were sincere. All I know is that when I recounted detail after detail of his wife’s battle, which had so closely matched my father’s, he could no longer refute that I was in possession of facts he thought no one else had been told. In the end he struggled to find a solution he could live with, one that wouldn’t keep him awake at night for years to come.

‘It must be the stress that has done this,’ he pronounced at last.

‘Done what?’ Jimmy queried.

‘Made it so I don’t remember. Yes, that’s it. All the worry has given me a sort of… amnesia.’

There was a long silence at his words. I looked at Jimmy meaningfully for a moment, before replying solemnly, ‘There’s a lot of that going around.’


We didn’t stay in the pub for long after our food had arrived. Jimmy seemed to be the only one with any sort of appetite, although I thought Joe might eat more comfortably after we had gone.

I did have one bizarre encounter in the Ladies, when I emerged from a cubicle to see Emily Frost standing at the mirrored sink unit.

‘Hi there,’ I greeted, smiling at her warmly, forgetting she knew nothing about our supposed lunch date or indeed who the hell I was. She looked back at me warily in the reflected glass. Suddenly I was tired of being an outsider among people I had known for so long. It was time to go.


Jimmy held out his hand to Joe.

‘It’s been very nice meeting you.’

No one was entirely surprised when Joe didn’t return the comment. His parting to me was slightly warmer after I offered, ‘I’m sorry if we’ve upset you today. I really do hope everything goes well with Muriel. I’ll be thinking of you both.’

We turned to go then, Jimmy’s hand securely guiding me away from the table.

‘Er… Rachel?’ called out Joe, startling us both.

As one we turned around to face the man we had so confounded that day.

‘Your dad, Rachel. How is he? How is he doing now?’

I smiled slowly at my old friend and his concern.

‘He got better, Joe.’





12


‘Joe seemed like a nice guy.’

I said nothing, keeping my eyes fixed out of the window at the disappearing London suburbs.

Jimmy tried again. ‘I think we eventually convinced him we weren’t total crackpots.’

Again I gave no reply.

‘You OK?’ asked Jimmy kindly, taking his hand briefly off the wheel to give mine a reassuring squeeze.

‘He didn’t know me.’ My voice was dull and toneless, but Jimmy’s ears still discerned the pain.