At that, he paled. Sat down heavily.
‘Have you considered that Kaitlyn may not have been the target? That it might have been you?’
His eyes widened so much she thought they might pop from his head.
‘No.’ His voice was hoarse.
‘Make a list for me. Of anyone you think might benefit from your…’ She’d been going to say death but hurriedly amended it to ‘absence’.
The trembling in his fingers increased. ‘But there isn’t…’
‘Just do it, Ricky.’
12
Dan drove along the A420, fingers unusually tight on the steering wheel. His mind was buzzing. He kept replaying the memory of Kaitlyn and Josh, their parents, worrying that if he thought about something else they would stop being real.
He’d spoken to Dr Simon Winter, his psychiatrist, first thing in the morning. Simon had been cautiously pleased that Dan had had a memory breakthrough.
‘That’s great news, Dan. But I’d be careful managing your expectations. You may not regain any more memories. Be prepared for that.’
Dan had checked his father’s email history to see a fair bit of correspondence between him and Kaitlyn over the years. Dan’s father had died last September but Dan, ever circumspect, had kept his father’s computer, photographs and emails, in case they might be needed. It appeared that his father had helped Kaitlyn choose where Josh resided, and even went to visit the boy from time to time.
One of his father’s emails to Kaitlyn explained why Dan hadn’t known about her.
I know you want to keep in touch with Dan, but his psychiatrist has advised against it. He’s lost a lot of his memory due to the trauma over his son Luke’s death, and the doctors are concerned if he remembers the air crash, anything of that period, it might tip him back into the abyss.
Dan knew he’d been a mess back then and although he could understand his father trying to protect him, today he found it immeasurably frustrating.
He was on autopilot, following the car in front until a dual carriageway appeared. He swept past the slower traffic until he came to the outskirts of Oxford, when he turned off to follow the satnav down a winding B-road. Twenty minutes later he came to a modern stone manor house surrounded by tranquil-looking gardens. He parked where indicated – next to a stone barn.
An impressive entrance hall with a sweeping staircase greeted him inside the house. A desk was set to one side, and with its softly glowing lamp and petite, navy-suited receptionist, it was more reminiscent of a five-star hotel than a nursing home.
‘I’m here to see Josh Rogers. I called this morning.’
‘Dan Forrester?’ The receptionist rose and put out her hand. She had a cool, firm grip. ‘I’m Gill Dix. Thanks so much for coming. As I said earlier, the police came to talk to him but even though I told them they wouldn’t have any joy, they insisted. We’re devastated over Kaitlyn’s death. She visited Josh every week. We’re all going to miss her dreadfully.’
Dan swallowed away the lump that threatened to form in his throat. ‘I’m sorry too.’
Gill gave him a gentle smile. ‘I’ll ring for Ava. She’ll take you to him.’
Ava was in her thirties, blowsy, with a kind round face. She expressed her commiserations over Kaitlyn and when Dan asked, told him Kaitlyn had set up a lifelong trust for Josh when their parents died. ‘Thank the Lord,’ she added. ‘Because not everyone is so forward-thinking.’
She went on to say that Josh had sustained traumatic brain injury from the air crash. ‘I’m sorry to say he won’t know you. And I’d advise against trying to make him remember.’
Dan winced inside. It wasn’t unlike what his dad had said about him, in his email to Kaitlyn. He recalled the four-leaf clover found in her purse along with his note, saying it would help keep her safe, and thought how sad it was that Kaitlyn hadn’t been able to keep in touch with him, her rescuer.
Ava led him into a large lounge area with an inglenook fireplace and squashy sofas overlooking the garden. Paintings and bookshelves covered the walls. A young man sat at a table near the windows. His sandy hair was neatly brushed, his cheeks freshly shaven. He didn’t move when they approached. He seemed to be staring at a bird feeder, the sparrows and blue tits flickering to and from the nearby bushes.
Ava bent and said, ‘Josh? You’ve got a visitor. He’s a friend of your sister’s.’ They’d already agreed not to mention Kaitlyn’s death. He’d been told, apparently, but he hadn’t responded. There seemed little point belabouring the fact.
‘Hello, Josh,’ Dan greeted him.
Josh rolled his head. Vivid green eyes looked at Dan but Dan wasn’t sure they were seeing him. They didn’t seem to be focusing at all. On the table were some children’s colouring books and crayons. A spaceship had been covered in clumsy yellow scrawl.
‘Nice colour. You’ll be able to see it at night, no problem.’
Josh dropped his head. Drool swung from his chin. Ava brought out a tissue and wiped it away.
Dan had a look at the books. ‘You’ve got a good collection there, but it’s a shame there isn’t one on racing cars.’
Reaching into his pocket, Dan brought out two toy cars. One a red Ferrari, the other a yellow Lamborghini. He put them on table.
‘Sorry I couldn’t find a Nissan, but even so, they’re both pretty fast. Which one do you want to race?’
Josh straightened. Reached for the Lamborghini. Clutching it in his fist, he banged it on the table.
‘Good choice. The Lambo’s a lot quicker than the Ferrari. I think you’ve got a good chance of winning.’
Dan rolled the Ferrari around the colouring books. ‘This is the warm-up lap.’
Josh’s gaze remained unfocused as he banged the toy car up and down. When Dan placed the Ferrari in the centre of the spaceship colouring book, Josh suddenly lifted his eyes and looked straight at Dan.
Dan had no idea if he was seeing
