Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
SADIE
The doctors told me that the best thing for my recovery now would be to return to familiar surroundings, which meant leaving the hospital and going home.
What they don’t realise is that for me, there are no familiar surroundings.
I lost my family home when Reid and I divorced and Luna replaced me, and I lost my childhood home when it burnt down in an arson attack that I strongly believe Luna was behind too.
Before my accident, I was living in a rented flat with my mum and dad while they rebuilt their home, but it was hardly a place that provided any of us much comfort, considering we were only there due to bad circumstances.
But having been in hospital for the best part of a year, things have progressed in the outside world and my parents’ home has been restored, meaning there is no need to rent because they have their house back.
At least I think it is their house.
‘Wow,’ was all I could say when I first saw the property where I had spent my childhood.
Mum and Dad had just driven me home from the hospital and it had been my first glimpse at all the renovation and rebuilding work that had been completed while I was in my coma.
The last time I had been here, the place had literally been a building site, and it had been almost impossible to hold a conversation with my parents amidst all the hammering and drilling that had been going on around us.
We’d actually had to go out into the back garden just to talk, such were the noise levels in the house.
But now the house is finished, the builders have packed up their tools and left, and peace has been restored.
From a family-friendly home to a burnt-out shell to a building site to this – a beautifully designed and expensively rebuilt house with all the latest fittings and furnishings, guaranteed to turn the neighbours on this street from sympathetic of my parents to envious of them.
I’d been helped out of the backseat of the car and led to the front door by Dad while Mum unlocked the door and now, as it opens, I am about to get my first look at this place that is my latest ‘home’.
‘What do you think?’ Dad asks me, a proud smile on his face as he and Mum step back and allow me the space to savour what I’m seeing.
‘Do you remember how it was before?’ Mum asks me nervously, obviously still worried about my ‘amnesia’, which makes me feel guilty, but I have to keep up the act there.
‘Yeah, I remember it,’ I say. ‘I think. Like I said, it’s just the night of the accident I can’t remember.’
‘I’m sorry it’s not the same as you would have known it,’ Mum says then, as if she’s sorry for totally transforming this house into the beautiful residence it is today.
‘That was the fire’s fault,’ Dad gruffly adds. ‘We had no choice. It was either a total redesign or we had to move. But we didn’t want to give up on this place. We’ve all made too many memories here to let that arsonist take everything from us.’
In my father’s mind, the arsonist is still Gemma, because that’s who the police punished for the crime, so I can understand why he holds all that hate towards her.
I can also understand why he seemed pleased to hear that she had died at the hospital, because, as Dad sees it, she gave up her right to live a good life when she attacked innocent people for her own selfish gains.
I haven’t told him that I think Gemma was innocent, as I think why complicate or confuse things for him, or worse, make him think my memory is really a mess and ask the doctors to readmit me to hospital?
I have to figure this out on my own. But first, I have to figure my way around this newly built house I no longer recognise.
With Mum’s help, I walk into each room, getting my first look at each new part of this home.
There’s the lounge area with new L-shaped sofas, a beautiful wicker coffee table and a wood fire, and the dining room with an impressive circular table surrounded by stylish black chairs.
Then there’s the kitchen, looking like it’s straight out of a magazine, and no wonder Mum looks so happy.
I bet she loves cooking in here, and as for my father, I’m sure he loves selecting a bottle from the huge floor-to-ceiling wine rack at one end of this impressive room.
Downstairs also features a playroom for when the grandchildren visit, full to the brim with any toys they might ever wish to interact with.
Last but not least, there is the addition of something both my parents said they always wanted but never previously had the space, finances or inclination to achieve.
A reading room. A specific part of the house designated solely for the enjoyment of books.
Two armchairs sit surrounded by tall bookcases full of paperbacks, some I recognise, many I don’t, and this is where Mum tells me she and my father spend much of their time these days.
While the fire was a total disaster for my family, and very nearly cost the lives of the most important people to me in the world, something good has eventually come from it.
Nobody died, and now that the house is restored, my parents seem happier than ever with their home.
They deserve this happiness, because as well as seeing their house go up in flames, they also had to see me in a coma.
They’ve been through hell, but they are back now.
It’s just me who is still going through it.
‘Wait until you see the bedrooms,’ Mum says as she leads me to the staircase.
‘I got this,’ I say, wanting to attempt the steps myself or at least with the help of the handrail leading up them.
‘Are you sure?’ Dad asks me, enough concern in his voice and on his face to make me feel like even more of an invalid.
‘Yes,’ I insist as I place one weak and wobbly leg onto the first step before attempting to pull myself up with the bannister.
I just about manage it, if only because I am determined not to rely on my parents’ help for every second I am back living here with them. But my determination is misplaced because I stumble on the second step and I would have fallen if it wasn’t for my father catching me.
‘Let me help you, darling,’ he says, and I don’t have the energy to argue, so I allow Dad to assist me up the staircase until Mum is able to show me the bedrooms that she has been so excited about.
‘This is mine and your father’s new room,’ she says proudly, and I admire the king-size bed flanked on both sides by two dressing tables.
There are also fitted wardrobes, his and hers, before Mum opens the door to the brand-new ensuite, another thing she always wanted but couldn’t quite get in the previous version of this house.
It’s clear that the insurance payout from the arson attack has been spent wisely and fully, but it’s worth it to see a smile back on Mum’s face. She keeps smiling when she shows me the next room.
‘This is where you can sleep,’ she says.
‘And you can stay here for as long as you need to,’ Dad adds. ‘We just want you to get better, so take as long as you need, and if you want to stay here forever, that’s fine by us.’
I appreciate my father not telling me to hurry up and get better so he and Mum can have their own space back again, but I also detest the thought that I could be here forever, dependent on my parents when I’m actually a grown woman who used to have a home of her own, not to mention dependants of my own too.
But instead of getting sad about that now, I’ll save any tears for when we’re all in bed and I can cry in privacy, in the dark, which is how I have spent the last several nights in hospital once the nurses had finally left me alone for the day.
‘Do you want to have a lie-down now?’ Mum asks me as I take in the newly decorated room that looks nothing like the room I inhabited as a child.
The familiar sights, sounds and smells that once brought me childhood comfort have all gone.
My parents might have been successful in keeping the same plot of land where our old house once stood, but while what they have rebuilt is beautiful, it lacks the familiarity that made it truly special to me.
‘I think I’d like to sit in the garden for a while, while it’s dry,’ I say, looking out of the window down at the place where I played in the sun or snow as a kid.
Because the fire didn’t touch the garden, it seems to be the only part of this place that looks similar to how it used to, which might be why I want to go there now.
‘It’s freezing out there,’ Dad says, as if I wouldn’t have noticed it is winter without him mentioning it.
‘I’ll put my coat on then,’ I reply, feeling like I’m back to being that little girl who wasn’t allowed to leave the house to go to nursery, school or a friend’s birthday party until my parents had deemed my clothing to be appropriate.
My father helps me back down the stairs and even helps me put my coat on, not that I need that extra bit of help, while Mum goes to make us all a hot drink.
As I step outside, with Dad tightly clinging to my arm of course, I feel the fresh, frigid air, yet still feel stifled by being here, being looked after, being made to feel such a victim.
Even once I’m sitting down on a piece of garden furniture and Mum has handed me a mug of coffee, I still feel terrible.
I think my parents sense that because they leave me alone, giving me the space I need to acclimatise to these new surroundings, even if this should be like coming home for me.
I sit out in the pale sunlight for a while, losing track of time as I stare at the frost on the leaves, a few brave birds flying between the trees, and my breath fogging in front of my face.
I have so much to consider, including how I had a job before my coma but obviously haven’t been able to work since.
My boss, a man named Landan, who was also a potential love interest for me, has been in touch with my parents to let them know that a job will still be made available for me when I am fit and able to return.
That’s very kind of him, although work is the last thing on my mind at the moment.
As long as I’m living here, I don’t have to worry about money, and while I don’t want to be living off my parents’ goodwill forever, it helps that I can keep my focus on Luna rather than commuting and chatting with colleagues over coffee breaks.
I do still have proceeds from the divorce settlement too.
My share of the family fortune that I had a right to after giving up my career to be a homemaker before Reid saw to it that our home changed forever.
I run through so much in my mind, feeling as though my thoughts are running away faster than I can catch up to them. But eventually, my parents come out to get me, no doubt worried that I’ll catch a cold if I stay out here much longer. They also have news for me.
‘I phoned Reid and he is bringing the children to see you,’ Mum tells me. ‘I thought seeing them might cheer you up.’
That news certainly does lift my mood, and I look forward to seeing Arthur and Ruby again soon.
One quirk of my accident and current condition is that I’m actually seeing them a lot more than I would have been if I was still healthy, as under the divorce and subsequent parental agreement between Reid and me, they were only with me twice a week.
But they are desperate to spend time with me after my extended hospital stay, and vice versa, and thankfully, Reid hasn’t yet told me that we are reverting to the previous agreement.
Maybe he never will. Maybe he will allow me to see our children much more going forward.
Then again, by the time I have finished with his girlfriend, I’m not sure what he will think of me.
I don’t have much longer to ponder that thought because Mum and Dad’s fancy new doorbell sounds, audible to us even out here in the garden, and that tells us there are visitors at the door.
We all head inside, Mum moving quicker than me and Dad because he is having to help me back into the house.
As he lowers me onto one of the sofas, I hear the front door open and Arthur and Ruby’s excitable voices soon follow.
I smile as I prepare to see my children, and as they come running into the room, I open my arms wide to take them both in a big hug.
As they race towards me, I see Reid walk in after them, looking a little pensive. As I cuddle our children, I realise why he looks unsure.
It’s because he has brought someone else with him.
Someone I wasn’t expecting to see for a while yet.
Someone who is pushing a pram into the room with a sleeping baby inside it.
Luna is here.
She’s here in the house she once burnt down.