able to tell us just what happened.’
They reached Dana’s bed, smiling. But Caitlin felt her smile freeze on her lips when her friend looked up at her, then past her, then sighed and switched her gaze to the far end of the ward as though she was still waiting for someone she knew to appear.
‘Dana?’ Caitlin’s voice was almost frightened. ‘The doctor says …’
Dana’s eyes flickered over her, then over James, before returning to gaze thoughtfully towards the doors at the far end of the ward. She did not speak at all.
James stepped forward. ‘Don’t you know your friends when they come a-visiting?’ he said, and Caitlin realised that his tone was meant to be jokey, light-hearted, but it came out tense, almost bullying. ‘Come on, Dana, here’s Caitlin been worried out of her life and you don’t even say hello.’
Dana frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I know either of you,’ she said slowly. ‘What did you say your name was? And mine? I – I don’t seem to know who I am … well, not my name, at any rate.’
There was a long stool by Dana’s bed; Caitlin sat down on it with a thump. ‘You’ve had concussion, Dana,’ she said slowly and clearly. ‘But surely you must know who you are! Everyone knows who they are.’
‘Do they?’ Dana’s voice was verging on the aggressive. ‘Then let’s pretend we’ve just met for the first time. Give me your name and perhaps the sound of it will awaken something in my head.’
Caitlin cast a frightened look at James, then turned back to Dana. ‘You’re pretending, aren’t you?’ she said, trying to sound as light and jokey as she believed James had done and failing quite as miserably. ‘I’m Caitlin Flannagan, your partner in the tea room we started a few months back. We met on the ferry from Ireland and palled up. I was running away from – from an unhappy affair and you were leaving Ireland to make your fortune.’ She sighed as the other girl’s face remained blank. ‘Dana? You’re not even trying to remember! Your father had died and there was no more money, which was why you took the ferry to Liverpool. You simply must remember!’
Dana compressed her lips but said nothing for a moment. Then she pointed at James. ‘Who’s he?’
‘This is James Mortimer, who rents the tea room to us, as well as our dear little flat … oh, Dana, you’re frightening me. You’re Dana McBride and we run Cathy’s Place together.’
‘Oh,’ Dana said blankly. ‘But if you’ll excuse me asking, how do I know you’re telling the truth? I believe someone hit me over the head and knocked me down.’ She turned an impersonal glance on Caitlin. ‘I don’t suppose it was you, because you look a respectable kind of girl, but it might well have been him.’ She pointed an accusingfinger towards James. ‘He looks capable of all sorts of skulduggery.’
Caitlin felt her face flame with annoyance; how dared Dana insult James! But she knew nothing about concussion or memory loss and if Dana really neither recognised them nor knew who she was herself, she could scarcely be blamed for thinking that James, with his tough, aggressive appearance, could be the person who had hit her over the head.
But when she looked at James he was grinning and did not seem in the least offended by Dana’s accusation. ‘So far as we know, you weren’t hit by anyone. You fell down a flight of stairs, cracking your head on the bottom one and breaking your leg as you fell,’ he said. ‘No one was about, and you lay in the rain for a long time. Naturally enough it made you ill, so perhaps that’s why you’ve lost your memory. But the doctor is sure it will return in a couple of days. And now, dear Dana, if you’ll excuse us, Caitlin and I must go back to the tea room. It’s being converted into a proper restaurant, but I don’t suppose you remember that?’
Caitlin looked hopefully at her friend’s face, but Dana’s expression remained politely blank. Sighing,
They reached Dana’s bed, smiling. But Caitlin felt her smile freeze on her lips when her friend looked up at her, then past her, then sighed and switched her gaze to the far end of the ward as though she was still waiting for someone she knew to appear.
‘Dana?’ Caitlin’s voice was almost frightened. ‘The doctor says …’
Dana’s eyes flickered over her, then over James, before returning to gaze thoughtfully towards the doors at the far end of the ward. She did not speak at all.
James stepped forward. ‘Don’t you know your friends when they come a-visiting?’ he said, and Caitlin realised that his tone was meant to be jokey, light-hearted, but it came out tense, almost bullying. ‘Come on, Dana, here’s Caitlin been worried out of her life and you don’t even say hello.’
Dana frowned. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think I know either of you,’ she said slowly. ‘What did you say your name was? And mine? I – I don’t seem to know who I am … well, not my name, at any rate.’
There was a long stool by Dana’s bed; Caitlin sat down on it with a thump. ‘You’ve had concussion, Dana,’ she said slowly and clearly. ‘But surely you must know who you are! Everyone knows who they are.’
‘Do they?’ Dana’s voice was verging on the aggressive. ‘Then let’s pretend we’ve just met for the first time. Give me your name and perhaps the sound of it will awaken something in my head.’
Caitlin cast a frightened look at James, then turned back to Dana. ‘You’re pretending, aren’t you?’ she said, trying to sound as light and jokey as she believed James had done and failing quite as miserably. ‘I’m Caitlin Flannagan, your partner in the tea room we started a few months back. We met on the ferry from Ireland and palled up. I was running away from – from an unhappy affair and you were leaving Ireland to make your fortune.’ She sighed as the other girl’s face remained blank. ‘Dana? You’re not even trying to remember! Your father had died and there was no more money, which was why you took the ferry to Liverpool. You simply must remember!’
Dana compressed her lips but said nothing for a moment. Then she pointed at James. ‘Who’s he?’
‘This is James Mortimer, who rents the tea room to us, as well as our dear little flat … oh, Dana, you’re frightening me. You’re Dana McBride and we run Cathy’s Place together.’
‘Oh,’ Dana said blankly. ‘But if you’ll excuse me asking, how do I know you’re telling the truth? I believe someone hit me over the head and knocked me down.’ She turned an impersonal glance on Caitlin. ‘I don’t suppose it was you, because you look a respectable kind of girl, but it might well have been him.’ She pointed an accusingfinger towards James. ‘He looks capable of all sorts of skulduggery.’
Caitlin felt her face flame with annoyance; how dared Dana insult James! But she knew nothing about concussion or memory loss and if Dana really neither recognised them nor knew who she was herself, she could scarcely be blamed for thinking that James, with his tough, aggressive appearance, could be the person who had hit her over the head.
But when she looked at James he was grinning and did not seem in the least offended by Dana’s accusation. ‘So far as we know, you weren’t hit by anyone. You fell down a flight of stairs, cracking your head on the bottom one and breaking your leg as you fell,’ he said. ‘No one was about, and you lay in the rain for a long time. Naturally enough it made you ill, so perhaps that’s why you’ve lost your memory. But the doctor is sure it will return in a couple of days. And now, dear Dana, if you’ll excuse us, Caitlin and I must go back to the tea room. It’s being converted into a proper restaurant, but I don’t suppose you remember that?’
Caitlin looked hopefully at her friend’s face, but Dana’s expression remained politely blank. Sighing,
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