Vanessa Carnevale - The Memories of Us - The best feel-good romance to take with you on your summer holidays in 2018

‘No, I don’t. Do I … miss her?’ After I ask this question, I realise what a silly one it is. Naturally I must miss her, only I can’t seem to tap into any feelings that resemble the heartache of missing someone you love.

‘Of course you do,’ says Scarlett. ‘It’s been a difficult year, but you’re strong and you’re doing okay—slowly coming to peace with things. Nothing could have prepared you for it. She was only fifty-six … no … fifty-eight …’ She places a finger on her lips. ‘Sorry, I can’t remember exactly.’

‘What did I love most about her?’ I whisper.

She smiles. ‘Well, I’d say you probably loved everything about her. She was kind and generous and loving, and she knew how to make you feel better when you were feeling down.’

Something about this answer doesn’t sit well with me. It doesn’t sound … I don’t know … specific? I’d imagine that’s the sort of description you’d get about any mother. And I want to know about my mother—something unique, something to give me a connection to her. ‘Um, what did I love most about her?’

Scarlett frowns. ‘I just told you.’

I swallow. How do I explain it to Scarlett? ‘I … I want to know exactly why she was special to me.’

‘She was your mother. That’s why she was special to you,’ says Scarlett quietly.

I rub my head, which has started to ache. I must look unhappy because Scarlett goes on.

‘Well, I know you loved spending time outdoors with her. You also liked baking. Every Christmas Eve you’d bake together.’

‘What did we bake?’ I ask.

She shrugs. ‘Um, shortbread cookies, I think.’

I rub at my head again. She doesn’t sound very sure and it isn’t the sort of detail I was hoping for.

‘It was Christmas,’ she adds, looking as though she wants to say more. But right now, all I want is to close my eyes.

‘Um, I’m really tired. I think I need to sleep now,’ I say, avoiding her gaze as I burrow under the blanket. My eyes drift shut and I let the world fade away, hoping that by the time I open them life might feel a little more familiar.

When I wake up, Scarlett is sitting in the same position she was before. She notices me looking at her and sets down the book she’s been reading.

‘Are you thirsty?’ Before I can nod, her hands are already on the jug of water. She hands me a glass and guides the straw to my mouth.

‘Good news. Blake has parked the car and should be up here soon.’

I stop sipping my water and splutter. My body tenses up.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asks.

‘I don’t feel good about this.’

She shakes her head in confusion.

‘About seeing him. I don’t remember him. I don’t know anything about him—or how we were—what sort of relationship we had.’ I desperately want her to understand.

‘Why don’t you tell me what you want to know and we’ll start there?’

‘Um, I think I’d rather have the chance to—’

Our conversation is interrupted by a knock on the door.

‘I bet that’s him. Come in,’ she says. ‘See, now Blake can tell you everything himself.’

My chest tightens. ‘No.’

Scarlett fires me a look of confusion. ‘No, what?’

‘I don’t want any visitors,’ I whisper. A surge of adrenaline floods through me. I want to be left alone.

‘But it’s Blake.’

‘No,’ I repeat, close to tears.

‘Why not, Gracie?’

‘Please, I don’t know who he is. I don’t know how I’m meant to act around him or what I’m supposed to even say.’ My eyes plead with her. ‘Scarlett, I can’t face him right now.’

‘But …’ Scarlett is unable to hide her shock. ‘He’s your fiancé.’

The door creaks open.

‘Gracie?’ says a voice. A voice that is completely foreign to me.

‘I mean it. I don’t want to see anyone right now.’ I draw my knees up to my chest, squeezing my eyes closed, wanting to block everything out.

‘Blake, hold on,’ says Scarlett, approaching the door. She presses a hand against it.

On the next inhale, my future outside the hospital flashes in front of me—the countless questions, the endless stories, the photographs. The people who have become strangers to me will be desperate to help me fill the gaps, become the person they knew me to be. Blake is going to tell me I loved him and he loved me and I will have no choice but to believe him. And when I leave this hospital I’m going to have to consciously try to fall in love with him.

At this realisation, the world constricts around me and it suddenly becomes harder to breathe. I press my palm against my chest, which seems to be hammering much faster than it should be. I can’t seem to stop the rush of thoughts spiralling around in my head. If Blake walks into this room, I will have to look into the eyes of the man I am supposed to marry and tell him I feel nothing for him.

‘Gracie,’ calls Blake through the doorway.

I shoot a look at Scarlett, pleading with her. ‘I don’t want to see him. Please just tell him I need some time.’ I pin my lip between my teeth and scrunch my eyes closed again.

‘Okay, okay,’ says Scarlett.

I roll onto my side so that I’m not facing the door, and curl into a ball, bringing the covers up to my chin. I can’t seem to get a handle on this feeling of being completely and utterly out of control. Despite my requests, the door opens.

‘Gracie? What’s going on?’ says a male voice from behind me. I close my eyes tighter. I can’t answer him. And I still can’t seem to control my breathing.

‘What’s wrong with her?’

‘Maybe I should page the nurses,’ says Scarlett.

‘Gracie, it’s me,’ he says softly, resting a hand on my arm. He runs his fingers through my hair, moving the loose strands away from my face and then he kisses my cheek, the stubble from his face grazing my skin. The fragrance of his aftershave wafts through the air, and along with that comes a shattering confirmation that I don’t recognise it. This aftershave could belong to any man. A series of unintentional moans escape me.

I hear Scarlett whisper to Blake, ‘Maybe you should wait outside. Give her a few minutes and I’ll explain everything.’

There are footsteps and a moment later the door clicks shut. When Scarlett re-enters the room a minute or so later, she sits on the edge of the bed. ‘Breathe, Gracie. Deep breaths,’ she commands, rubbing my back. I can’t seem to stop shaking. She presses the buzzer for the nurses. ‘Open your eyes, I want you to look at me.’

I flick my eyes open. ‘I think I’m going to be sick. I don’t know what’s happening to me.’ My face contorts into a grimace. ‘I’m scared,’ I croak. ‘I’m really, really scared.’

Bea enters the room. ‘Gracie? What’s going on, love? Is everything okay?’

‘I don’t know what’s happening to me … but I can’t … I don’t want to see him … I don’t want to see anyone.’

‘I think she’s having a panic attack,’ says Scarlett.

Bea nods and tells me to breathe, but no matter how hard I try, it still feels like there isn’t enough air.

The door clicks open again. ‘Gracie!’ calls Blake. ‘It’s just me, I promise you, everything will be okay if you let me in.’

‘No,’ I say, my eyes pleading with Bea.

‘It’s okay, honey,’ she says, pressing a hand on my shoulder.

She leaves the room and a few seconds later Blake’s voice reverberates through the hospital.

‘You need to let me see her!’ he yells.

‘That’s not what she wants, she’s distressed enough as it is, and we need to respect her wishes,’ she says.

‘This is ridiculous, I’m her fiancé.’

‘She’s having an anxiety attack,’ Bea says firmly. ‘This is not the right time.’