Chapter Twenty-Nine
March 2017
The nurse had wheeled Theo into the lift and along the downstairs corridor, and now he stopped outside the lounge room of the rehab centre. Lydia was in there. She was waiting, for him.
He hovered nervously. But he’d planned this and so he left the wheelchair and picked up the crutches from the reception desk, where he’d requested they be stowed for him. The nurse on duty gave him a smile and a nod and when he had the crutches beneath his arms and had shuffled a few steps with them, the nurse opened the door to the lounge room and he stepped in.
Lydia was seated on the sofa by the window and when she looked up he saw sadness, pain, joy and shock in her eyes. So many emotions balled into one. He’d wondered whether she was going to run up to him and hug him, whether she would burst into tears, or whether she would freeze on the spot. But it seemed she’d gone for the third option, and who could blame her? He’d practically risen from the dead and here he was walking into a room taller than he’d been in months.
She said hi in a voice weaker than he remembered and it took all the effort he could muster to lower himself into the sofa beside her once he’d left the crutches at the side of the room. He couldn’t stop looking at her, taking in her face, her hair, her skin, the look of absolute fear at what happened now.
They exchanged a few short sentences about how long he’d been on the crutches, using a wheelchair, and when he shuffled closer to her, her tears began to flow and eventually she rested her head on his shoulder.
He let his head tilt and rest on hers and for a while they stayed like that until they were disturbed by the nursing staff asking if they were okay, by someone else shuffling in with tea and scones for them, another person asking if Lydia had parked across the back of another car in the car park, blocking them in.
‘I’m finding all of this really hard to believe.’ Lydia looked at him. ‘I never thought…’
‘You never thought I’d wake up?’ With the scones untouched and the tea just sitting there, all he wanted to do was pull her in tight and hug her. It was like they were strangers when before his accident they’d been wrapped up in one another’s lives so much he could still remember the little things: the way she’d turned up to watch practice rugby games even if the rain was lashing down outside; how they’d cosied up in front of the fire in their lounge room, the warmth of their bodies and the flames filling the space much like the fireplace did in here now; sharing a hot dog from a stall in the city centre, fighting over who got the most fried onions.
‘How much has my mum told you?’ he asked. He wondered how much Lydia knew about his progress. He’d refused to let his mum update her and tell her anything until he was stronger. At first he’d convinced himself it was just because he didn’t want Lydia to see him like this. But deep down he’d been angry too. He resented her for not fighting more, for contributing to him still being in this living hell when he could be at peace. It had taken him quite a while to process his emotions – something else he’d have to get used to following his brain injury. And now, he didn’t feel anger towards Lydia, just an overwhelming sense of love and longing for more.
He massaged his knee that gave him constant trouble, wishing his hands were stronger and he could do a better job. Lydia’s hands remained clasped in her lap, as though locking them together was the only thing that could keep her calm, and slowly he told her more about the time since he’d woken up until now. They sat for a few moments contemplating their feelings, or at least he knew that’s what he was doing, as well as getting the courage up to tell her the rest. She almost looked afraid of him, as though time wasn’t the only thing separating them now.
‘Lydia, there’s something else.’ When she looked at him her eyes flicked to his mouth and then back up again. He ran through some of his memories from before the accident, things she’d remember fondly too. ‘Lydia, I can’t remember anything since our trip to Zurich.’
His hand did its best to massage his sore knee some more. It was taking a while for his muscles to strengthen up but the fight in him had gone from the initial anger through to a determination he’d leave this place as fit and healthy as he possibly could.
Lydia’s face fell as he ran through more of the final memories he had and told her how common memory loss was with his type of injury. She was understandably shocked and he had no idea how to console her. She rambled on about things he probably should remember and they managed the odd joke between them. In turn, he talked about head injuries and memory problems, almost justifying why he couldn’t recall important life events in the way she expected him to.
She folded over at the waist and put her head on her knees, shaking it side to side in disbelief. She looked up at him as tears pooled into those eyes he’d fallen into the first time she said his name. She did her best to kick-start his memory by talking again about some of the things that had happened since, but to no avail.
‘I have no memory of the year before my accident.’ He put a hand on hers and she looked down at their skin, together again.
After a while she said, ‘Theo, so much has happened.’
He nudged her, hoping to make her smile. ‘Is this where you tell me I won the lottery and live in a sprawling mansion now, with servants and a chef?’
‘No, Theo, it’s not,’ she said flatly.
‘Then why don’t you tell me everything.’ He kissed her briefly on the lips, lost for a moment at the intimacy neither of them had shared in such a long time. ‘Start from the beginning, Lydia, and don’t leave anything out. Please.’