Sweet Memories 4

Jayne woke up. Blearily her eyes opened and she found herself staring at a cream coloured ceiling. Dimly, her brain registered a rhythmic beeping sound in the background.

She felt uncomfortable and her muscles ached. Pushing through thick treacle, her hand made its way to her face and found a thin, plastic pipe that was taped to her cheek and fed up her nostril. She could also see another one taped to the back of her hand.

She felt like she was trying to think through cotton wool. Her muggy brain was unable to assimilate her current situation.

A white blob appeared in front of her and slowly resolved into a middle-aged woman's face. It had a friendly smile and said, "Hello Jayne, welcome back."

"Wh... Where am I?"

The smile slipped slightly, "You had an accident, you're in Wensbury Town Hospital. Don't worry, you'll be fine, but we needed to keep an eye on you."

The nurse glanced at her watch, "Don't you worry Dear, the doctor knows you're awake and he's on his way now. He'll explain everything. You just rest until he gets here, okay?" A quick check of the electronic readout next to the bed and the nurse left the room.

Jayne was a little disturbed. What accident? She couldn't remember any accident. She concentrated. No, nothing about any accident. The last thing she could remember was getting up this morning... This morning?

Possibly. And getting ready for school. She was quite excited about it, she could remember that. It was her last day. Exams all finished and it was the last day of term. But then what? Nothing.

She was beginning to feel a little frightened. Her brain wouldn't respond as she wanted it to. Her muscles ached and she couldn't move. Just how bad had her accident been? Oh my God! Was she paralysed? Was she disfigured? And why couldn't she remember anything?

An indeterminable time later, the door swept open and a young man in a white coat breezed into the room with a hearty, "Good morning Jayne."

Jayne felt his warm hand take a hold of her wrist while he looked at his watch. Then he took a pencil torch from his breast pocket and said, "Just going to do a few tests, then we'll talk, okay?"

She smiled wanly and gave a small nod. The action cheered her. She could move her head. That had to be a good sign.

After shining the torch into each of her eyes and getting her to look in several directions he hummed to himself. He ran the point of a pencil across the soles of her feet and nodded in satisfaction as her toes clenched involuntarily.

All in all, the tests took about five minutes. He made some notes on the clipboard that hung at the bottom of the bed and then sat on the edge of it and looked at Jayne.

"Well," he said, "I'm sure you've got lots of questions. Fire away and I'll answer as best I can."

"What happened to me?"

"You were in a motor accident I'm afraid. From the police report it looks like you were broad-sided by another vehicle."

"How bad am I?"

He smiled gently, "Well I have to admit it was touch and go for a while. But don't worry, you'll be fine. You suffered some fairly extensive trauma including quite a nasty head injury," he raised a calming hand, "Don't worry Jayne, all your test responses came up positive so it looks like there is no permanent damage. You'll be up and about again in no time. Trust me I'm a doctor."

"How long have I been out?"

"About two weeks."

Thunderstruck! Two weeks! It must have been bad, no matter what the doctor said. She collected herself and whispered, "What do I look like?" She was dreading the answer.

The doctor nodded to himself, it was a question he had been expecting, "Well, you did get a very nasty bump on the forehead and there is a scar, but it is tiny, barely noticeable in fact. In fact you're a very pretty young woman."

Jayne felt herself flush slightly, young woman! She was just turned sixteen and he called her a pretty young woman. Another thought came to her, "Why can't I remember anything about the accident?

"Ah. Yes, that's perfectly normal. Sometimes after the sort of trauma you received, the brain closes off unpleasant memories. Purely as a defence mechanism against shock, but no need to fear, the memories usually return over a couple of days."

The doctor's brow wrinkled slightly, "Tell me, what's the very last thing you remember?"

Jayne shut her eyes as she drew the memories to the front of her mind, "Well... I remember getting up and getting ready for school. It was the last day and I was waiting to hear my exam results."

The doctor seemed troubled, "Jayne, how old are you?"

"Silly question, I'm sixteen."

She was grinning at him as she answered; of course she was sixteen. But something about his expression dulled her smile, "What?" she asked, "What is it?"

He swallowed and answered, "Jayne... You're twenty-three years old."

"WHAT?"

"You're twenty-three years old."

Jayne was in shock. Twenty-three! That couldn't be right! She could remember clearly getting up this morning. All right not this morning, but it felt like this morning and that was good enough for her. Brushing her hair, slipping into her uniform and filling her bag with books.

She could remember leaving the house and waiting at the bus stop, getting on the bus and then... nothing. Nothing at all! And now this doctor was telling her she was twenty bloody three! She had lost seven years. This was terrible! She tried again. No, still nothing. She got on the bus woke up to see the nurse. Finally she spluttered, "But... but..."

He laid a soothing hand on hers, "I know this has come of something of a shock to you but please don't get upset about. I've seen this many times before. As I told you, it's perfectly normal with the sort of injuries you received. Please try to understand, the memories will come back. I must admit that I am surprised at the amount of time you've lost, but please understand... The brain is a delicate instrument. In fact we still know very little about it. Normally the memory loss is concentrated in the region of time when the brain is endangered. While you were out, you were monitored constantly. We have scanned you with every means at our disposal. I can assure you that there is no permanent damage to your brain and your amnesia is purely a self imposed defence, "

He smiled gently, "They will come back."

The doctor glanced at his watch, "Well, I have other patents to see. I'll pop in a bit later and see how you're getting on, okay? You have some visitors, do you want to see them?" "Who?"

"Well, your mother and your h-"

"Yes! I want my mum."

He left the room and a few moments later, two people walked in. One was a man she didn't recognise, he was middle twenties with short dark hair. He had a fairly handsome face with dark brown eyes, an aquiline nose and a strong jaw line. But the effect was marred somewhat by his pinched expression and dark rings around his eyes. He never spoke, but merely stood by the foot of the bed looking at her.

As she didn't know him, Jayne discounted him immediately and concentrated on the woman who had come in with him. It was her mother. She seemed older than Jayne remembered and she too had a tired air about her. An air of someone who had not been getting the required amount of sleep recently.

Elsie took Jayne in her arms and wept, "Oh my baby."

Jayne accepted the hug, she tried to hug her mother back, but her protesting arm muscles would only let her rest her hands lightly on Elsie's sides.

The older woman held her daughter tight for some time, alternating between sobbing and laughing, before she finally disengaged and pulled back to look Jayne in the face. She studied Jayne's face for a moment before speaking, "Hello love. How are you feeling?" "I don't know... the doctor said... He told me..."

"I know, I know. He told me outside. But that doesn't matter now. He said they'll come back and I'm sure he knows what he's talking about. The main thing is you're awake and you're going to be all right." She sniffed loudly before continuing, "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

Elsie broke down again and once more gathered Jayne into her arms.

Jayne's eyes shifted to the other visitor. She felt unaccountably embarrassed by the close scrutiny of the young man with the sad face. He knew her, that was obvious. But who was he? A friend? A relative? Who?

Elsie pulled away and stood up. She removed a handkerchief from her purse and dabbed her eyes and nose, "The doctor says you should be able to go home in a couple of days. They just want to run a few more tests he says. But he thinks you'll pull through fine."

Something about what her mother had said registered, go home, that was it. It seemed a strange way to put it, didn't people say come home. Once more, her eyes drifted back to the man, "I'm sorry but, who are you?" she asked. "I'm Alan. I'm your husband."

Jayne found herself unable to speak. Married? She hadn't even thought of that, as far as she was concerned she was still sixteen. Not a married woman of twenty-three. Her expression wavered from surprise to shock and back again as she stared at him.

His eyes never left her as he murmured, "I've missed you Love."

And still Jayne couldn't speak, couldn't move. Here was a man she didn't even know telling her that she was his wife! It must be a joke, it couldn't be real. If he was her husband then she must be able to remember something about him. She tried, desperately she sifted through her memories for something, some little clue that he was telling her the truth. But she could remember nothing and she was having trouble believing his words.

The part of her brain that carried out rational and logical thought processes screamed at her. "Think Woman!" they shouted, "Of course he's not lying. If he was then your mum would have said something. What's she doing Jayne?" A quick glance at her mother showed Elsie, still stood at the side of the bed, still sniffling and still looking at her daughter with a worried expression. And Jayne knew her logical brain was right, even if her emotional centres cried out in disbelief.

A single tear rolled down her cheek as she whispered, "I'm sorry... I don't know you at all."

Alan gave a sharp inward breath, but there was no other clue as to how much Jayne's response had cut him.

He walked around to the other side of the bed and said, "Don't worry Love, the doctor told us about it. I know you'll remember me again. I know it." As he spoke he had reached out to take her hand, but she had pulled away slightly.

Embarrassed he allowed his own hand to fall back and hang limply at his side, "I know it," he said again.

Before either could speak further, the nurse came back in with a cheery, "Come on now. Visiting time's over. You can come back tomorrow." She shepherded the two visitors from the room and then returned to Jayne's bedside.

"Are you okay Darling?" she asked.

Jayne, suddenly very tired sagged on the mattress and said, "I wish I knew."

The nurse patted her hand and replied, "It'll be fine. You'll see," and then she left Jayne alone with her thoughts.

Jayne felt terrible. Alan was her husband and she didn't know him. She had even been uncomfortable with the thought of him just touching her hand. She knew that must have hurt him, but she just hadn't been able to help herself.

Eventually, left to her thoughts, she drifted into a fitful and troubled sleep.

The next two days followed the same routine. Tests, tests and more tests. One by one the machines were disconnected and pipes removed. Elsie and Alan came to see her with small talk and chatter.

On the second day, Jayne had allowed Alan to kiss her cheek when he left. His lips felt nice on her skin, but she was still uncomfortable about intimacy with him. She was as nervous as a virgin on her first real date whenever he came too close.

+++++++++++++++++++

The doctor announced she was fit to return home. It had only been Alan who came that day to collect her. He gathered up her belongings and helped her to the car for the short journey home.

They arrived at a small house in the small village of King's Burton, just south of Wensbury.

She exited the car and just stood looking at the house. It was a normal looking two bedroomed house, with a mahogany coloured door and a large brass knocker shaped like a lion's head holding a ring. The roof was slated with the local blue stone and the exterior woodwork was picked out in a dark shade of blue. There was a small garden surrounded by a pygmy hedge and a circular bed in the middle of the grass with a single rose bush. It was currently little more than a stick in the ground due to seasonal pruning, but she knew it was a rose bush.

Alan watched her carefully as she studied the house, "Anything?" he asked. Jayne shook her head regretfully. Without any more words, They entered the front door.

Whilst Alan carried her suitcase upstairs to the main bedroom, Jayne looked around the living room. Carefully matching furniture and upholstery was complemented by two or three watercolour prints that hung on the walls. It had a real coal fire set in a brick mantle and the various tools to start a fire were set to one side. The far corner held a German style cupboard unit with shelves that supported variously a television, video player and several video films.

Alan entered the room and again said nothing as she examined her surroundings. Jayne didn't wait for him to ask and shook her head once more. Then she sat down heavily on the sofa and put her head in her hands.

Nervously, Alan sat down next to her, put his arm around her shoulder and murmured, "Just give it time Jay."

Jayne jerked upright, "What did you call me?" "Jay," he replied.

She knew that name. No-one called her anything but Jayne or Jaynie (when she was a little girl) except for one person. But that was all she could remember, one person had been allowed to shorten her name and it was... Alan. It must have been.

Jayne started to cry, it was not much but it was a start.

She turned toward him slightly and said, "Jay... You call me Jay, no-one else does, but you do," she reached out and pulled him close for a hug, "I remember you call me Jay."

Jayne felt his arms slide around her torso to return the hug. He buried his face into her shoulder and whispered, "It's enough. For now it's enough."

After a few minutes, Jayne began to feel a little uncomfortable. She knew that she was familiar with Alan. Well, she was his wife for crying out loud. But she still felt uncomfortable hugging him like this. She disengaged from him and with forced cheerfulness said, "I'm parched. I could murder a cuppa."

He grinned in reply and said, "No problems." As he stood up, Jayne said without thinking, "milk and two sugars."

His grin took on a more sombre tone as he replied, "I know."

Later that evening Alan dug out a photograph album with the words 'Our Wedding' picked out in gold leaf on the cover.

He said, "The doc told me that I should show you things from our time together. He said you never know what might jog your memory so if it's alright with you, we can start now."

Jayne nodded her assent and they sat together on the sofa with the album open on their laps. "This is us in front of the Church... This is the cutting of the cake... and this is your Maid of Honour, Gena," he paused, "Anything?"

Jayne studied each of the photographs carefully. Well she was Mrs. Jayne Clarke... Evans. That much was obvious. After all, here was the photographic evidence. She could see herself in a beautifully embroidered ivory wedding gown smiling at the camera with Alan stood next to her, also smiling in his traditional morning suit. There was her mum in a pastel blue dress and wide-brimmed hat. And there was Gena... whoever she was.

Together, they looked through all of the albums, but nothing leapt out at her. Jayne pinched her nose between her fingers, "I'm sorry," she yawned, "I'm very tired."

Alan reddened, "Of course you are, I should have thought. Come on I'll show you our room." He led her upstairs to the main bedroom. It was dominated by a huge double bed and the far side had a mahogany wardrobe unit with a built in dressing table. A full-length mirror was screwed to the wall opposite.

Alan opened the left hand cupboard and said, "Your clothes are in this side and your nightie's under your pillow. I'm just going to rinse the tea stuff then I'll be up, okay?"

Jayne listened to his footsteps going down the stairs as she removed her clothing. She reached under the pillow and found her nightie. It was sheer, almost see through and it may as well have been a paper tissue for the amount of body it would cover. She was quite surprised that she would wear such a thing.

On a whim, Jayne decided to have a look at herself in the mirror. She wanted to see what she looked like properly and had been unable to do so at the hospital.

The reflection in the mirror was of a woman with brunette hair, about shoulder length with a natural curl to it hat framed a heart shaped face. Her complexion was smooth and almost milky white. Dark thin eyebrows arched over two deep brown eyes. A closer examination of her left showed a scar about half an inch long just below the brow hair. Jayne was satisfied about that, the doctor had said it was barely noticeable and he was right. She straightened up and continued her self scrutiny. Her nose, although no button was not overly large and her lips were a ruby red colour and thickly sensuous.

Her eyes travelled further down and she looked at her breasts. They were large and heavy, but still firm and shapely, tipped with dark nipples. Stomach flat. There was a triangle of thick, dark pubic hair growing at the base of her belly. Her waist flared out into broad and womanly hips and legs that were shapely and smooth all the way to her feet. She liked what she saw. Not the self image she remembered at all of a sixteen year old girl still waiting to flower into the full bloom of womanhood. This was the flower itself.

Her reverie was interrupted by the sound of Alan coming back up the stairs. Quickly she threw the nightie on and slid under the duvet, pulling it up to her shoulders as the door opened. Alan walked in and started removing his shirt as he walked round to his own side of the bed.

Another thought occurred to Jayne. She hadn't thought of this. They were married, and they slept together. What if he wanted sex? She couldn't, she didn't know him, it wouldn't feel right.

She watched, fascinated as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal a well muscled and toned upper body. Not a huge mass of muscle like a steroid ridden body builder, but very masculine and a very pleasing view. He struggled out of his trousers and dropped them on the floor next to the bed. Clad only in his boxer shorts, he too slid under the duvet.

He reached out to touch Jayne's shoulder and said, "Sleep tight."

As his fingers brushed her skin, he felt her tense up. Alan sat up, "What's the matter?"

Jayne gave him a nervous smile, "I'm sorry, its... its just..."

Alan slapped his forehead, "Of course! I'm sorry, it's just so natural for me I didn't think about it," he made to get out, "If you'd be more comfortable, I'll sleep in the spare room tonight."

Jayne considered his proposal briefly, but one look at his face told her he really wanted to stay with her. "No," she thought to herself.

She didn't think it fair on him. After all this was his bed as well as hers, at the moment more his actually considering that she couldn't recall seeing it before. On top of that, he was her husband and the man who loved her even though he was a complete stranger. And truth be told, she really didn't want to be on her own anyway.