DAY THREE 3
Summer Taylor-Braddon : I hated Mia from then on. The new wife. The other woman. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know her at all, that she’d shown me that bit of kindness. She was public enemy number one. She had taken Ruari from me.
Now, of course, I can think a bit more clearly. Not objectively, mind, because I’ll never be able to think objectively about any of this. But I know it wasn’t fair to her, all that happened. She had no idea that her Robert was missing British national Ruari Braddon. She was just in love.
Oh and she was pregnant, of course.
Again. They already had two kids. One of which ironically shared my name. As if this situation couldn’t get more messy.
When I first heard the daughter’s name, it had given me hope. That maybe, even though Ruari hadn’t appeared to recognize me, there was still a part of him that could remember. That the memories weren’t lost.
But it didn’t seem to work that way. There was still just nothing in his eyes, when I saw him again too. At the hospital—because he was having more tests done. Every doctor in Australia suddenly wanted to be the one who’d treat him, unlock all his memories. It was as if they just needed to find the right key, but the problem was there never was a key that was the right fit for his mind.
Or if there was, that key was at the bottom of the ocean.
Whereas Ruari was speaking with a damn Australian accent of all things, really believing he was this other person. A boyfriend. A father.
I think maybe that was the part I found the hardest, about Mia. That she was living what should’ve been my life, with my man. My kids.
She had everything I’d ever wanted.
I watched Mia from my hotel window, one day. I’m not really sure why she was back, down there. But she was. And suddenly, her swelling belly just seemed so massive and I felt sick looking at it, imagining Ruari’s kid inside there, incubating, like this was some high-tech sci-fi show.
My breaths suddenly got too loud and then I threw up—no warning. Just watching, through streaming eyes, as my vomit laced the windowsill and those stupid frilly lace curtains.
Mia was talking to someone down below outside. There were police down there and other official looking people. She also had a couple people with her that I assume were friends—and that, that really got to me. Made me want to cry and scream.
Dante Fiore : Why’s that?
Summer Taylor-Braddon : I haven’t really got any friends now.
Dante Fiore : You’ve got me, Hana, Ash.
Summer Taylor-Braddon : Yeah, I have. But I was meaning my girl friends before—Hana and Julia. I haven’t really got them. I mean, Hana is still my friend, you’re right. But I don’t know if we’re as close now. And then there’s Julia... I don’t think she and I can ever be friends again. Not properly.
Dante Fiore : You’re not alone though.
Summer Taylor-Braddon : No. I’ve got my mum, of course. I wouldn’t have survived all this without her. But I do miss Hana. I miss how things used to be.
Dante Fiore : Have you tried reaching out to them?
Summer Taylor-Braddon : No, and I don’t know if I can. It feels like that ship has sailed. This whole life that I have—it’s sailed away. I had finally got my husband back, only he was no longer Ruari Braddon. He was a stranger.
[Silence for five seconds]
Summer Taylor-Braddon : The media really made my life hell—even more so—after Ruari was found. Of course, they found out about Mia, I think they actually knew about her before I did, and they spun this whole angle about how I was trying to break up their love story.
The papers just wanted me to be the villain. Like, they really hated me. They made it out like I’d been abusive to Ruari. That he’d finally done what he had to, to escape me. It’s ridiculous, but that’s what they said.
And they loved Mia. Of course they did. She was the innocent bystander in all of this, and her only crime was that she loved the man that I was set on destroying—that’s literally what they said.
They pitted me against her constantly. She was the angel, the princess. I was the witch, the devil. And they really loved that—there were some cartoons going around, about us. I’m sure you saw them?
Dante Fiore : Yes, I have. It’s shocking what they did to you.
Summer Taylor-Braddon : Of course, there were still people who were still loyal to me—I saw their comments on Facebook posts, defending me—but their voices were just swamped. There was this huge tide of anger, and it was directed at me.
Mum and I were pretty much having to move about a lot. Different hotels in Australia, as they kept finding out where we lived. I didn’t really mind the constant check-outs and check-ins though, because I was just so set on getting Rauri back. On him getting better. On him remembering me. And it seemed to me, that if I had to just put up with all this media hate on me, to get him back, if that was the price I had to pay, then I could do that.
Because Ruari, getting lost in the tsunami, swept all those miles, and not knowing who he was? Well, he’d been through much worse.
##
R uari Braddon : I guess it makes sense now to call me Ruari from this point on, right? Now we’ve got to the point where we know who I am?
Dante Fiore : Whatever you feel more comfortable with.
Ruari Braddon : [ He laughs, dryly ] I don’t know if I’ll ever know who I am.
Dante Fiore : Would you like another cup of coffee?
Ruari Braddon : No, thank you. The only drink that could calm me right now would be something with, like, 90% alcohol, and I better not. That wouldn’t be a good thing for either of us. [ He groans ] God, this is all so messed up, isn’t it? Even just thinking back to it.
I was a mess, right after I’d had this reunion with the wife I didn’t remember. It was hard on me, of course—and I knew it was hard on her too. I could see the desperation in her eyes, when we were in that hotel room. She wanted that moment of recognition. But I couldn’t give it to her.
But most of all, it was hardest for Mia. She was... She had a conversation with Summer. She told me that, once we’d got back from the hospital the next day with JoJo—that was what we were calling our daughter now. Josephine was her middle name, and Mia just started using it. Then it became JoJo. But Mia was... she was really struggling. Like, massively.
She asked me, “Are you going to leave me?”
And it didn’t matter how often I told her I wasn’t, because she was my life now, because she always seemed to think that I’d go back to Summer. She was so, so scared. And I often felt that I couldn’t comfort her either. I couldn’t give her the support after everything she’d given me—my whole new life. And I’d just ripped hers to shreds.
##
S ummer Taylor-Braddon : Ruari’s father flew out at some point. I’m not too sure when, but suddenly he was just there. It was the first time I’d actually met him, as he’d not come to the wedding, and though I’d been on video calls with him—all those times when Ruari and I sat in our flat, awkwardly talking to Maverick, I wasn’t prepared for just how different this man would be in person.
For one, Maverick was six foot five. This was something that Ruari had never mentioned to me before, and with Ruari himself being five foot eight, I’d never even considered that his father might be very tall.
Maverick wasn’t just tall though. He was built like a tank. His voice that had come across on our Skype calls as strong and rich was actually booming and very, very loud in person. He made quite the dramatic entrance, in the hotel lobby. Mum and I were sitting there, waiting to meet with a woman called Vera. I’m not too sure what her job title was, but she was acting as a counsellor really, helping us all navigate this tricky situation. And so Mum and I weren’t really talking, but rather anxiously waiting when Maverick Manners strode into the hotel, wearing these ginormous shoes that seemed comically big.
I recognized him instantly—and he saw me, but he didn’t even stop to say anything. We made eye contact, and then he strode right on past me.
That was all I saw of Maverick, that day.
You want to know the thing that upset me the most?
Ruari remembered him. And I didn’t even find out at the time. It was a week later, when I was speaking to Ruari’s doctors.
##
R uari Braddon : It was weird, when my dad came. This huge ape of a man. Apparently, I rarely even saw him before. He’d been in and out of prison.
But I saw him. And there was just a part of me that knew who he was—instantly.
“Dad,” I said.
And he looked shocked that I knew him, but then he said something like, “Ah, they told you I was coming.” Because of course he’d been told I had no memory.
But I said, “No.”
And we had this moment, this really weird moment, and my head began to hurt a lot. Because it was coming back.
Dad—living at his house—talking about Mum and Al—and...
And I remembered Mum and Al.
And Dad. Most of all Dad.
But I looked into his face, and I thought of how when I was Robert, looking into the mirror, trying to put together images of what I thought my parents might look like.
And now, here he was. My dad.
And I knew him.
And I remembered him.
And oh dear God. Fuck. I remember that thinking those words—because I then realized it. I might remember my wife too. And if that happened, I just didn’t know what it would mean for me and Mia.
##
S ummer Taylor-Braddon : “It is very promising that Ruari recognized his father,” the doctor said to me.
The chair I was sitting on felt too cold, too hard, and its seat was too long. Its sharp edge pressed into the backs of my legs, just below my knees, and I’d been shuffling about a lot, trying to get comfy. But the doctor’s words froze me. I couldn’t speak at all. I mean, I tried to, but my throat was too thick, and I just couldn’t make a sound.
“It leads us to believe,” the doctor continued, “that the rest of his memory may come back. He may remember you too, in due course.”
They said it was like it was a wonderful prospect—and it should’ve been, of course. Only I couldn’t help thinking that it would just make this whole mess even worse. And then I hated myself for thinking that, as I’d do anything to get Ruari back, and if he remembered anyone, it should’ve been me, not his deadbeat dad.
I don’t recall what else was said—all I can remember is how I pressed my legs into the sharp edge of the seat then, because it was painful and I wanted to concentrate on that, the physical pain, rather than the gaping hole inside me. Why would Ruari remember his father and not me?
“It just doesn’t make sense,” I told Mum later. “It really doesn’t—that man wasn’t there for him at all! Not when it mattered.”
“Oh, love.” Mum hugged me, and I breathed in her perfume—that thick... clagginess . It wrapped around me like it was suffocating me.
Like I’d never breathe again.
[She clears her throat] Ruari’s father got him to move back to England though. To move in with him. Mia and the kids too. It was January this year—2024—when they finally did it. Just like that, they were back on my home territory.
Not the same town, of course not. Not even the same county. They were living in Bristol.
I stayed firmly in Okehampton, but I had these dreams of getting the train up to Bristol, of storming around there. Of making him remember me—doing whatever was necessary to ensure. Because Ruari, my Ruari, he was still in there. I just had to find a way to wake him up.
I kind of became fixated on that. I was spending pretty much all my time, trying to find a cure for his amnesia. I mean, I had his phone number and Mia’s too, but I wasn’t actually in contact with him any more. The two of them didn’t want to be. But I still felt this urge to research, to find a way to bring Ruari back.
Mum said to me more than once that it wasn’t healthy, that maybe I should just let him go. He had a new life, after all. Kids.
But he was my life.
I read about hypnosis, psychotherapy, all these different things that could apparently bring memories back. I wanted to find out if he’d even come back to Okehampton at all, if he’d walked the places that he used to be familiar with, if anything had prompted his memories, but I just couldn’t bring myself to text him. I think I was scared that he’d tell me he had but that the answer was ‘no’. That that part of his life was maybe just gone. That it wasn’t there, waiting to be recovered.
##
R uari Braddon : We did go back to Okehampton, me and Mia. Well, it was mainly me that wanted to go. She didn’t. She was pretty stressed. She was thirty-four weeks pregnant by then, and we were living in Bristol. Pretty near the city center. I thought she would’ve liked it there. Liked the arts culture. The music.
But she was missing the surf life. Missing Australia really.
We kept having arguments. I kept telling her it wasn’t good for the baby.
She kept telling me that none of this was good for her.
I was sure she was going to leave me. Several times, I even wondered if that was best. If maybe I should never have been with her, because apparently me and Summer Taylor-Braddon had an amazing love story. I read her book, you know. The Saga of Me and Him . I felt the characters’ love for each other. And I read all these interviews that Summer had done, where she said she’d been writing our love story, what we should’ve had.
I felt sick after reading them, the interviews—and also that first book in her series.
But I also felt... I don’t know. This sense of excitement. Of freedom.
I found myself Googling Summer a lot. I’d have little JoJo on my lap, bouncing her on my knee, and I’d be scrolling through Summer’s website. I’d be searching for her on Facebook, trying to make sense of my life.
Of course, she wasn’t on social media anymore.
I read a lot of the posts people were making about her. The names they were calling her.
Her life seemed like a living hell.
And yet, mine and Mia’s, ours was heading that way too.
I don’t know what really made me decide to go to Okehampton. But I knew one morning that I had to.
It wasn’t just that I wanted to find Summer. I wanted to find myself.
Mia wasn’t happy when I told her. Not happy at all. But she said she was coming with me. Maybe she was scared I’d see Summer and remember being in love with her. Or maybe she was scared because Summer was still my legal wife.
I’d spoken to a few lawyers about the legal stuff. And although Mia had been pushing me to get a divorce from Summer, I hadn’t made any of the official steps to doing so yet. I guess a part of me thought that it wouldn’t just be a divorce from Summer. It would be a divorce from who I was. Who I am.
We traveled down to Okehampton on a Sunday. A couple of hours in the car. We left Alex and JoJo with my dad. I’m still not sure that was a good idea—an ex-con and all that—but that’s what we did. And really, he did seem to be a good grandad. Better than he had been a dad, anyway.
It was raining when we arrived in Okehampton. Mia parked in Simmons Park. She was exhausted, but I hadn’t been cleared by the DVLA for driving in this country. Not since I’d declared my amnesia. And it wasn’t like it was something I could hide.
I found it weird though. I knew all the rules of the road, and I knew that I had learned to drive on the streets of Okehampton and the wider area, yet I couldn’t remember those lessons. Couldn’t remember the places.
Mia and I walked around for a bit. I think it was one of the first times when we’d had no reporters tailing us. No one following us. No one taking photos.
It felt like freedom.
And I didn’t recognize anything in Okehampton.
We stood looking up the driveway at the school. Okehampton Community College. There are photos of me in their uniform—a uniform that had changed a few times since I’d left, so all the kids we saw milling outside weren’t wearing that uniform that I’d worn—but I just didn’t have any ounce of recognition.
Mia was tired, grumpy.
I was getting annoyed.
We hadn’t told anyone we were coming here, and I wondered if that was a bad idea. If maybe I wasn’t giving myself as much of a chance as I should’ve, as I deserved. I knew the names of my friends I’d had here—friends who still lived here. I mean, you, Dante, but also Ashley Kincade. Julia Rivers and Hana Burton. And Summer Taylor-Braddon.
Of course, I knew Summer’s face. But not any of the others.
I wondered if I’d just walk right past them, if maybe they wouldn’t recognize me either. I had changed a lot. Not just seven years older, but the scars on my face had distorted my features.
Still, I assumed they would’ve recognized me, had they seen me. My photos were all over the papers, the news, social media platforms.
They would’ve said something. They’d been wanting to see me. Ashley, especially.
But I didn’t see anyone I knew. And no one seemed to see me.
I just felt like a ghost, wandering that town.
All in all, it was a bad idea.
##
S ummer Taylor-Braddon : I told myself I just needed to move on. Ruari, though living in Bristol, showed no desire to meet with me. He had Mia. He had moved on.
Everyone was telling me to do the same.
It wasn’t the ending of the love story that I’d envisioned, that I’d dreamed of, begged for.
But I needed closure. I really needed it, and so that’s why I went there. Why I went to Bristol.
You all know that, though.
Everyone knows that—don’t they? Because when I went to Bristol, to see Ruari, to try and work out what we were going to do, because just pretending that none of this was happening, well it wasn’t working. But he wasn’t there. He’d gone out with his dad and Alex. And hours after I arrived, Mia was dead at my feet, and everyone thought I’d done it.
##