По направлению к нулю. Агата Кристи
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at him with troubled blue eyes.
‘I guess it was bound to happen some time. After all, we both knew your aunt, didn’t we? That’s another thing we have in common, isn’t it?’
She hesitated. ‘Is it? I…I don’t know,’ she said at last on a brief sigh. He’d taken the trouble to come here, and said they knew one another—perhaps she owed him some kind of explanation.
‘The thing is, Matt, something happened to me a few months ago…there was an accident, and I ended up with a head injury. I don’t remember exactly what went on, only that I woke up in hospital and everything that had gone before was a blank.’
He made a sharp intake of breath. ‘I’m sorry.’ He shook his head as though he was trying to come to terms with what she had told him. ‘Your solicitor mentioned you had some problems with your memory, but I’d no idea it was so profound.’ He reached for her, cupping his hand over hers. ‘What kind of accident was it? Don’t you remember anything at all?’
‘Not much.’ His hand was warm and comforting, enveloping hers. He was a complete stranger to her, and yet she took heart from that instinctive, compassionate action.
‘They told me I must have fallen down the stairs and banged my head. I shared a house with another girl—my flat was on the upper floor—and apparently my friend found me when she came home at the end of her shift at the hospital. She called for an ambulance, and they whisked me away to Accident and Emergency.’
She went over the events in her mind. ‘It turned out I had a fractured skull. The emergency team looked after me, and after that it was just a question of waiting for the brain swelling to go down, so that they could assess the amount of neurological damage I had been left with. I was lucky, in a way, because there’s been no lasting physical harm—nothing that you can see.’ She gave a brief smile. ‘Except for my hair, of course. It used to be long and shoulder length, but they had to shave part of my head.’
‘Your hair looks lovely. It suits you like that.’
‘Thank you.’ She moved restlessly, and he released her so that she was free to take another sip of her cold drink. Her throat was dry, aching. ‘I remember bits and pieces. Some things come back to me every now and again, and I manage to keep hold of them. Other memories seem to float around for a while and then disappear before I can picture them clearly.’
‘I’m so sorry, Saffi. I can’t imagine what that must be like.’ His grey eyes were sombre and sympathetic. ‘You must be taking a leap in the dark, coming here, away from everything you’ve known for the last few years. Or perhaps you remember Devon, and Jasmine Cottage?’
She frowned. ‘No. I don’t think so. Some of it, perhaps.’ Her lips flattened briefly. ‘I’m hoping it’ll all come back to me when I get to the house.’
He nodded. ‘I was really sorry when your aunt died. She was a lovely woman.’
‘Yes.’ She said it cautiously, unwilling to admit that she couldn’t remember very much about the woman who had left her this property in a picturesque village situated near the Devon coast. Everyone told her they’d been very close, but the sad truth was she simply had no clear recollection of her benefactor. It seemed wrong to come here to take up an inheritance in those awful circumstances, but all those who knew her back in Hampshire had persuaded her it was the right thing to do. Only time would tell.
‘Apparently she died before I had my accident, and I’d been to her funeral. All this business with the property had to be put to one side while I was recovering in hospital.’ She glanced at him. ‘Had you known my aunt for a long time?’ She was suddenly keen to know how he was connected to her relative, and how he came to be caretaking the property.
He appeared to hesitate before answering and she wondered if this was something she ought to have known, some part of the way they’d known one another. ‘We met a few years back, but then I went to work with the air ambulance in Wales, so I didn’t see much of her until I came to work in Devon last summer. After that, she called on me from time to time to help fix things about the place.’
‘I’m glad she had someone. Thanks for that.’ She smiled at him, and made light conversation with him while they finished their meals. Her emotions were in a precarious state and she didn’t want to enquire right then into how she’d known Matt in the past. Perhaps he understood that, or maybe he had his own reasons for not bringing it up. He seemed concerned, and clearly he had been thrown off balance by her loss of memory.
They left the inn together a short time later and went to his car, a fairly new rapid-response vehicle equipped with a blue light, high-visibility strips and badges.
He held open the passenger door for her and she slipped into the seat. The smell of luxurious soft leather greeted her, and she sat back and tried to relax.
Matt set the car in motion and started along the coast road, cruising at a moderate pace so she had the chance to take in the scenery on the way.
She gazed out of the window, watching the harbour slowly recede, and in a while they left the blue sweep of the bay behind them as he drove inland towards the hills. The landscape changed to rolling green vistas interspersed with narrow lanes lined with clusters of pretty cottages decorated with hanging baskets full of bright flowers.
He sent her a quick, sideways glance. ‘Is this meant to be a kind of holiday for you—a chance to recover from everything that has happened? Or are you more concerned with sorting out your aunt’s estate?’
‘I suppose it’s a bit of both, really. I was beginning to feel that I needed a break, a change of scenery at least, and although it was a sad thing that my aunt passed on, it gave me an opportunity to get away. I…’ She hesitated momentarily, then went on, ‘There’s no one else left in my family, so it’s down to me to sort out what’s to be done with the property.’
Perhaps she’d managed to come to terms with all that before the accident, but since then she’d felt her isolation keenly. Being unable to remember people around her meant that she was cut off from all that was familiar, and it left her with an acute sense of loneliness.
‘And do you think you’ll manage all right?’ he said, cutting in on her thoughts. ‘If you’re not working, I mean?’ He saw her hesitation and pulled a wry face. ‘Am I overstepping the mark? You’ll have to let me know if I do that—I’m afraid I tend to get carried away and say what’s on my mind. ‘
She shook her head. ‘That’s all right. I appreciate you being open with me.’ She frowned. ‘I’m not sure how I’d handle going back to medicine just yet. But I have enough money to keep me going for now, until I find my feet. After my parents died some years ago, it seems that I sold the property and invested what they left me. So at least I don’t have any worries on that score.’
‘Perhaps that’s just as well. It looks as though you have more than enough on your plate right now.’
He concentrated on the road for a while as he negotiated a series of bends, and then, after following a winding country lane for about half a mile, Saffi suddenly became aware of an isolated farmhouse coming into view. It was set back from the road amidst fields, a little gem in the surrounding greenery.
‘That’s the house, isn’t it?’ she said, excitement growing inside her as they drew closer. It was a long, rambling property, with a couple of side-on extensions that had been added to the main house over the years, giving it three different roof elevations. It was pleasing on the eye, with the traditional white rendering throughout and slate roofs over all. The window-frames were mahogany, as was the front door. A trailing jasmine shrub sprawled over the entrance wall, its bright, yellow flowers making a beautiful contrast to the dark evergreen leaves.
‘Do you remember it?’
‘No. But my solicitor showed me a photograph. It’s lovely, isn’t it?’
He nodded, and parked the car on the drive. ‘Here, you’ll need the keys.’
‘Thank