Chapter 13
Early December
“Give me the keys.” They were standing outside the Williamsburg building Josie only recognized from the listing images in her email.
If Josie had had doubts before, she didn’t now. She’d never been her before, but it was clear she lived here. Her beloved paintings were hanging on the wall, her old, green, velvet sofa in the living room, her enamel jug on the counter. The place was small, but pretty. Charming.
Suzie was watching her carefully. “You don’t recognize it at all.” It was a statement, not a question.
Josie shook her head.
“Nothing,” she admitted. “Except what I saw in the Listing photos. But it looks very different with my stuff in. I do remember the art, the furniture, the sofa—”
“You remember buying this couch with me for your Murray Hill place?” Suzie walked into the living area and laid a hand on the back of the sofa.
Josie nodded, examining the rest of the room.
Most of the items were familiar, but there was a big mirror above the fireplace she didn’t recognize.
She gestured at it. “I haven’t seen that before, though. ”
“You bought it for that exact spot.” Suze tilted her head, pursing her lips. “I guess we’re getting a clearer idea of how much time you’ve lost. It’s more than two years, less than . . . four? That’ll help the doctors. You’ve got to go back for tests, honey, this is crazy.”
Josie crossed the room, collapsing onto the familiar couch, swinging her legs up and tucking her feet underneath her.
“I haven’t ‘lost’ the time, Suze. And I’ve already figured out exactly the point my life diverged. It was when I met Rob. Or, I guess, didn’t meet him. Which seems to be the case in this version of reality.”
The thought of her husband, or lack of, prompted fresh tears. She buried her head in her arms and let them come. Without a word, Suzie moved into the kitchen and made Josie yet another cup of strong, sweet tea.
“Right.” Suzie put the mug down on top of Josie’s storage ottoman. “I’m going to the store, since you’ve got nothing but milk and tomatoes in the fridge. You’ll have to buzz me back up in ten minutes.”
Josie looked up at her. “I don’t even know how the buzzer works.”
Suzie paused, then started to laugh. “Well, aren’t you a hot mess? Okay, I’m taking your keys — you sit tight. We’ll figure out the buzzer later. Chill.”
Josie sipped the tea, the warm liquid and Suzie’s laugh calming her. It was strange, but this place was comforting, with all her things from her life before Rob around her. She could imagine herself choosing it, living here. If she hadn’t married into a life of luxury, of course.
She got up and explored, feeling like an intruder.
A door off the living room led to a tiny bedroom, only big enough for her blue guest futon and a small Ikea wardrobe.
She hadn’t seen them in years. The other door, nearer the main entrance, opened to a larger bedroom containing her old bed, the antique armoire she had shipped from the UK to Murray Hill years ago, and her set of oak drawers.
All pieces of furniture that she had given away when she moved in with Rob.
The green forest painting she had bought for the Murray Hill studio was in pride of place above the bed.
This, she still had — it was now in the green room in the Manhattan apartment.
She ventured back out across the hall, where she found a small interior bathroom with a lot of the toiletries she used to use.
Josie went back into the bedroom and flopped down on the bed, wrapping herself in the duvet. It was familiar, warm. Maybe things would be okay here, especially if this was a world in which David was alive.
Ting-da-ding.
Hoping it would be David, Josie pulled the phone out of her pocket. It was that damned Peter guy again.
Hey, are you feeling better? I’ve been worried, you didn’t reply. When can we talk? P
Perhaps if she made it clear she wasn’t interested, he’d leave her alone. If she told Peter she had amnesia, that could cause more questions. Better to blow him off.
I’m a lot better, thanks. I’m in Brooklyn, but only for a few days. I’m heading back to the UK for holidays. I need to be with family right now. I’ll catch up with everyone after that. Take care and have a great holiday season, J
Hopefully that would make it clear she wasn’t into him, no matter what their situation before. After all, as far as Josie was concerned, she was a happily married woman.
And Rob?
She couldn’t think about Rob right now.
* * *
“Mum, I’m okay. I’m flying home tomorrow. I’ll be in London by Saturday lunch . . .
“Yes, it’s scary, but I went for an MRI and they didn’t find any brain injury or swelling, they said it all seems fine. The doctors said it was amnesia, which can be caused by the shock of an accident, or other trauma, and my memories could come back. There’s no real treatment, anyway, so . . .
“Exactly. Plus, I can remember important things, I haven’t forgotten you, or who I am . . .
“No, the radio station is giving me a month off. Someone’s filling in. Anyway, we can catch up when I see you . . .
“Yeah, I’ll be staying at David’s for ten days, he’ll drive us down on the 19th . . .
“I can’t wait either. I’ll call you when I’m at David’s . . .
“Love you too, Mum. Bye.”
Josie hated lying to her mother, but Suzie’s incredulity had taught her she needed to be careful with whom she told the truth to. It simply was not their truth. Better to let everyone else believe it was amnesia.
Josie scrolled back through recent texts with her brother, which told him about her supposed condition, that she was flying to London early and would be at his place by Saturday.
She read and reread their conversation, grinning like an idiot, and shaking her head in disbelief at this miraculous second chance with him.
But for now, Josie had a list of things to do before she left.
She had already emailed Abby Crawford at the radio station and arranged time off until the New Year.
Next, she emailed the choir director to tell her about the accident, her “amnesia”, and that she was bowing out of Christmas gigs.
Josie also asked Kathryn to let her choir friends know what was going on.
She figured Lisa would tell Peter, so he would realize she didn’t remember him.
It wasn’t long before the director replied, telling Josie to rest and heal, and if she was coming back in January, she could spend the holidays relearning repertoire. “Music can be very therapeutic — it might even jog some memories!”
Not a bad theory, except Josie didn’t have any memories to jog. It made her wonder, though. Would she be rejoining the choir and working at the radio station, in January? Surely something would flip her back to real life? Wouldn’t it?
With that in mind, there was one other task before leaving for the UK. The other side of the equation. For the huge thing regained — her brother — it seemed there was something equally huge lost. Rob.
It wasn’t like Josie could call him and tell him she was his wife, and that she loved and missed him so much. He’d think she was a crazy stranger. But she just had to go to the building where they lived together. To see if it existed. Rob had named it after her.
She would have to get the subway from her place in Williamsburg, as she couldn’t take Electra.
Her poor, mangled bike was still chained up at Third and 25th, unless someone had taken it.
She’d better deal with her today as well.
She checked her phone for the nearest subway, about a twelve-minute walk.
Probably why she usually used the bike. She walked to Bedford Avenue subway station, boarded the L, and stepped off at her familiar station, Union Square.
Walking up the steps, she emerged into the bright, chilly December sunshine on Union Square East.
She saw it immediately.
The building — their building — was still there. Only, ever so slightly different. The architectural detail at the top, where it narrowed at the sub-penthouses and then the penthouse, was a little boxier. Slightly less elegant, less art deco. More modern, perhaps.
But the biggest change was on the canopy of the porte-cochère.
Instead of “Cavendish House” in tall, elegant lettering, the name read “Union House” in a crisp, wide font.
It was true, then.
She and Rob had never met.
Josie pushed her lips together to quell her emotions — a habit she picked up from Rob himself, who was always so stoic in the face of tragedy and grief. Turning away from the street and into the square, she headed for the coffee kiosk. Luca was behind the counter. Would he know her?
“Regular latte, please,” Josie smiled, wondering if Luca’s wife, Greta, was nearby. Luca smiled back without recognition.
“Coming up, ma’am. That’s four and a quarter.” He smiled at Josie again as he gave her 75 cents change. Still nothing. His lack of recognition pushed a pit of emptiness into Josie’s gut.
Taking her coffee to her favorite bench, she sat in the sunshine, watching a cheerful panhandler bantering with passersby.
At least Josie had a home, and a family. What had happened in that guy’s life to put him there?
After a while, despite the sunshine, she started to chill. Josie tossed the cup in the bin near the panhandler sitting on the side of the path. He lifted his face to her, with one blue eye and one green, crinkling at the corners. He was surprisingly good-looking.
“Here you go.” Josie tossed the 75 cents change into the baseball cap in front of him. He flashed her a grin before she turned to walk away.
“And how about your number too?” he called after her, in an Irish accent. She turned her head back to him with a laugh but kept walking.
She was about to return to the subway, her mood ever-so-slightly lifted, when she glanced back over the street to the now-named Union House.
Josie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.
Rob. Coming out of the main entrance. Handsome as ever, dressed in a sharp suit, white shirt open at the throat, contrasting with his dark beard. Josie held her breath. Her husband, her Rob, the love of her life. Right there. Surely he’d recognize her, if he saw her?
Rob paused at the door to chat to Ed, the concierge, then looked back into the lobby, seeming to wait.
Josie’s heart sank when she realized it was Surin, the woman he was dating, according to Google.
Rob slipped his arm around her, still chatting to Ed.
She was barely half his size, even in the killer platform heels she wore.
She was stunning, raven-haired, in a cobalt-blue power suit.
Rob’s peacock-green Lincoln pulled into the porte-cochère. Ed opened the passenger door for Surin as Rob came around the front to take the keys from the valet, Ed’s son, Will.
As Will moved out of the way, Rob paused before getting into the driver’s door. Then he looked up, suddenly, across the street, straight at Josie.
Despite the wide, busy road between them, they locked eyes for a moment. The rest of the world froze. He stared, and Josie stared back.
Did he recognize her?
Instinctively, she half-raised her hand in greeting, unable to stop the urge to make herself known to him. Rob tilted his head, furrowed his brow in confusion — then abruptly turned and got in the car.
He drove off into the New York traffic, leaving Josie standing on the sidewalk, her hand still raised foolishly before her.