Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
Still, she didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she looked at nothing in particular, her thoughts moving too fast and yet somehow not fast enough. Was she all right? No. She really wasn’t. Her memories were missing, truths were half-formed, and her life . . .
My life might not really be mine.
“Roy.” Finally, she spoke. “What would you do if it turned out your entire life was a lie, and there was no one you could trust?”
For once, Roy didn’t laugh or try to deflect with humour. In fact, he seemed to consider her words, his gaze drifting slightly, like he was turning the question over in his mind instead of brushing it aside.
Then he shrugged. “I guess I’d want to know the truth. Even if it was awful.” A small pause. “Especially if it was awful.”
Augustine swallowed. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Roy studied her for a moment longer. “As for having no one you can trust,” he said, a little more gently. “You know you can trust me, right? Want to tell me what happened?”
“Well,” Augustine began, once more stroking her hand down Bird’s back. “Remember Theo?”
“Theo? You mean the dead guy whose girlfriend you time travelled into, who asked you to read the tarot cards? Yeah, the name might ring a bell or two.”
“So,” Augustine carried on ignoring Roy’s sarcasm. “It turns out his girlfriend — the one whose memories I’ve been visiting — it turns out she’s, uh, me.”
Roy frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Yeah,” Augustine said faintly. “That makes two of us.” She shifted slightly in her chair, drawing her knees in a little, like she was trying to hold herself together.
Bird made a chirrup of protest, before he settled against her once more.
“There are gaps,” she carried on. “In my memory. Big ones. Not like forgetting where you put your keys or what you had for breakfast. I mean actually missing. Entire chunks of my life just . . . gone.”
Roy’s expression tightened. “Gone how?”
“Like they’ve been cut out,” Augustine said, her voice steadier now, more certain the more she explained.
“Cleanly and precisely. Like someone went in and removed anything to do with Theo. Him, me, us . . . every moment, every memory, everything.” She let out a small, humourless laugh.
“I didn’t even know I was the girlfriend I was trying to find,” she added.
“I’ve been chasing myself this whole time. ”
Roy didn’t interrupt. He just watched her, mouth hanging open.
“I think . . .” Augustine hesitated, then pushed through it. “I think a witch did this.”
Roy blinked once. “Right,” he said slowly. “Okay. A witch.”
“She cast some kind of spell,” Augustine went on.
“On both of us. Me and Theo. Took us out of each other’s lives.
Not just physically but mentally. Made it so we’d never remember we were together in the first place.
” Her hand stilled on Bird’s back. “But something went wrong,” she said more quietly. “Or maybe . . . something fought back.”
Roy frowned slightly. “Theo?”
Augustine nodded. “He found me again. Even like that. Even with everything gone.” Her throat tightened slightly.
“And the cards . . . they’ve been acting like — I don’t know.
A bridge. A way back. Every time I read them, I slip into those memories.
My memories.” She looked up at Roy then, her eyes sharp, bright with something fierce beneath the exhaustion.
“Someone didn’t want us together,” she said.
“Someone took us apart. And made sure we’d never even remember that they did it. ”
Roy didn’t say anything. He just sat there, staring at her. He appeared properly speechless for once, which was rare enough to be almost impressive.
“Oh,” Augustine added, like it had just occurred to her, “and it turns out there’s a room above my shop where I used to live, but that’s been removed from my memories too.”
Roy blinked again. “A room above your shop?”
She nodded faintly. “Yep. A glamour was cast on the wall. I tore chunks of wallpaper away to get to the door. Chunks of wallpaper that just disappeared in my hands. The door is there, perfectly in place. But it was locked; I couldn’t get in.”
“A secret room and magical, disappearing wallpaper,” Roy said faintly. “Tell me something, Augustine — do you own a witch’s shop or a chocolate factory?”
Augustine gave him a look, and he shrugged, before he leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand down his face.
“Okay, fine,” he muttered. “Right. So — just to recap — your dead boyfriend is actually your dead boyfriend, you’ve been time travelling through your own erased memories via tarot cards, a witch has selectively edited your memory of your life, and there’s a secret upstairs flat you forgot you lived in that was covered up with disappearing wallpaper. ”
Augustine nodded. “Yes. That’s about right.”
Roy let out a long breath. “And here I was thinking the leaking pipe was going to be the problem today.” He sat back. “And what does Theo think about all this?”
Augustine shrugged. “I don’t know. Every time I come back from one of my time travelling jaunts he’s disappeared.”