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She drew back from him, instinctively reacting to fear and confusion now. Damien did not try to hold her in his embrace. He gently eased her on to the pillows, then tenderly stroked her cheek.
‘I am trying to prepare you, Natalie,’ he said, pained at the need, yet clearly determined not to hide behind a curtain that might be ripped aside at any moment.
He was right to do it. Yet his honesty was devastating. It gave Natalie a miserable feeling of isolation. Total isolation. Without Damien, her life would be barren of any meaningful human connection.
Where could she go?
What could she do?
CHAPTER FIVE
NATALIE fretted over her situation long after visiting hours had passed and Damien had gone. There was too much she didn’t know about herself. She had to relocate her identity. It was not healthy to be so dependent on one person. She had to broaden her world.
She thought of her mother. On impulse she rang her. It was a strangely unreal conversation to Natalie. It didn’t serve its purpose at all.
Her mother chatted on about what had been happening in the boutique she managed in Noosa. She told her the same kind of news Natalie had heard in her adolescence. Nothing had changed. They were simply echoes of a past long gone.
Even when Natalie mentioned her accident and the loss of memory resulting from the concussion, it was readily apparent that no help would be forthcoming in her quest to find herself. Her mother represented love and care and support, but she was too far away in more than physical distance.
Natalie ended the call, accepting the fact that her years in Sydney formed a different phase of her life, a phase she would not have confided to a parent. It was easy to share happiness and achievements. Failure was naturally hidden. Natalie was in little doubt that she must have considered herself a failure. Perhaps even as a mother. Was that why she had grieved so long, so excessively over Ryan, shutting herself away from everyone?
She searched her mind for something positive about herself.
The answer finally came to her.
It was in her handbag.
The one concrete fact connected to both her past and future was the signed contract for her work on the children’s book. She didn’t know why she had been carrying it with her on the day of the accident, but it represented something she had achieved.
Natalie took it out to look at it again. The contract contained her home address and the publisher’s address. Attached to it was a covering letter from an editor who wrote enthusiastically about Natalie’s work. The name signed at the end of the letter was Sharon Kippax.
Surely she must have met Sharon Kippax if they were doing business together. It might be worthwhile meeting her again, talking to her. It would be an opportunity to gauge another person’s reaction to her, even if it was only that of the slimmest acquaintance.
Resolution formed in Natalie’s mind. Tomorrow she would release herself from the hospital and pay her publisher a visit. Although she was bruised and sore, and a little shaky on her legs, she was not so weak she couldn’t manage to get around by herself. There was nothing really wrong with her, except for the intimidating gap in her memory.
The fearful thought struck her that she might not be able to fulfil the contract. Had she forgotten the skills needed to produce what she did? Would her work still be as ‘stunning’ as Damien said it was?
She fought the fear down with an even firmer resolution. There was no point in worrying about it. She would find out tomorrow. It was time to take a step by herself, for herself. No running away. No sheltering behind Damien’s devotion to her. She had to go out and meet the world she occupied head on.
The next morning Natalie discovered that signing herself out of hospital was a tedious business. They didn’t think she was ready to leave, so every obstacle was put in her way.
She had the feeling that Damien could have achieved the same result in half the time, but Damien was at work, and she couldn’t call on him for everything. Besides, she took some pride in proving herself capable of handling and overcoming the difficulties she met.
When she was dressed, packed and ready to leave, she did call the number Damien had given her. A secretary informed her, ‘Mr Chandler is at a business meeting.’ Natalie left a message for him that she had left the hospital, then set off to accomplish what she could alone.
The taxi from St Vincent’s Hospital deposited her outside a tall office building in North Sydney. The directory in the foyer listed her destination as the fourth floor. She caught a lift. When the number four flashed up, she picked up her suitcase, ready to step out. The doors opened.
A woman was waiting to step in. She wore a striking yellow suit with black accessories. Her hair was black, her eyes dark, and she was beautiful.
I know her, Natalie thought with a little spurt of excitement. The sense of triumph was dashed when the woman stepped briskly into the lift and pressed a button, giving Natalie no more than a cursory glance in passing. There was not the slightest flicker of recognition in her eyes, no smile of fellow acknowledgement.
Natalie quickly propelled herself out of the compartment, embarrassed by her expectation and the dismissive manner of the other woman. Yet her inner certainty that they were not complete strangers made her turn to glance questioningly at the woman again. Did she know her or didn’t she?
The woman returned a preoccupied look. The lift doors closed, putting an end to the odd encounter. It niggled at Natalie’s mind as she walked over to the receptionist’s desk, and continued to niggle throughout her meeting with Sharon Kippax.
The editor was in her twenties, cheerful in nature, and immediately sympathetic to Natalie’s plight. She showed Natalie a portfolio of what she had submitted. Natalie couldn’t help feeling a thrill of pride in the striking flights of fantasy she had produced. She really did have talent!
Sharon went through what had been planned for the children’s book. She was kind, patient and as helpful as she could be, but she struck no chord of recollection in Natalie.
