‘Well then I won’t stop you.’ I removed his hand from my thigh and stood, pulling my cardigan tighter round me.
When the door shut behind him, I waited a couple of minutes to make sure he wasn’t about to change his mind and come straight back home again, then, when I was sure the coast was clear, I raced upstairs and retrieved the tape from my knicker drawer where I’d stashed it the previous evening after we’d got home from Dad’s. Luckily, thanks to my job, I had an old tape recorder as well as a CD player just in case the songs my patients wanted to listen to were only on ancient cassettes, so I pulled it out of my holdall and plugged it in, then slipped the first cassette inside – the one Adam had made me all those years ago. I rewound it to the beginning. It felt important, somehow, to listen to it in the order in which it was intended. Then I pressed play…
The opening notes of ‘Heart-Shaped Box’ soared into the room and I smiled. I could picture exactly where we’d been when this had played for the first time: at the pub down the road. I was back there in an instant. I let the song play out, and then another song, and another, getting more and more lost in the memories, of me and Adam, young and in love.
I snapped my eyes open and pressed stop then sat for a moment, as an idea occurred to me. It wasn’t doing me any good, listening to this: all it was doing was making me feel even more confused. But it could be useful, perhaps, in helping to unlock some memories for Adam. If the music was sending me back in time, surely it might be able to do the same for him too? I removed the tape from the recorder, placed it back into its case and tucked it into my bag for later. Then I picked up Mum’s tape, the one from the mystery ‘J’, and placed that inside and pressed play.
Instantly, the opening bars to ‘Time After Time’ by Cyndi Lauper started, and I smiled. Mum had always loved this song so I wasn’t surprised to find it on here. As the song played I took a closer look at the tape case, pulling the cardboard insert out to see if there was anything else written on it. I unravelled it and there, tucked inside, was a small piece of paper, folded several times. I picked it up and carefully opened it up, my heart thumping. What was I going to find? Would there be something Mum would never have wanted me or anyone else to see? Should I put it away and forget about it, pretend I’d never found it?
But I knew I wasn’t going to do that.
Finally, I opened it fully. The paper was fragile and thin, so I gently smoothed it out on the carpet and read the words which were written in the same blocky handwriting as before.
Penny.
If you find this note, it means you have to say yes.
Marry me, and not him.
Say you will.
I adore you.
J xx
J? Who on earth was J? And why was he telling my mum to marry him instead of someone else? Was the someone else my dad? It must have been. I’d never heard her mention anyone else other than my dad, but then why would she? She must have been very young – after all, she’d married Dad when she was only twenty-one.
My mind raced with possibilities. Who could this ‘J’ be? And how different would my life have been if she’d have said yes to him and not my dad?
Maybe this tape could be the key to unlocking Mum’s memories at last. It had to be worth a try.
‘Are you sure you don’t know who he is?’ Rose said, after I’d filled her in on what I’d found. It was two days after Christmas and I’d popped round for a quick drink and to tell her all about my Christmas Day discoveries.
‘Positive.’
‘The cheeky little minx,’ Sam said, handing me a full-to-the-brim glass of gin and tonic. I took a sip and almost spat it back out again. ‘Christ, is there any tonic in here at all?’ I spluttered, blood rushing to my head with the unadulterated hit of alcohol.
‘A splash.’ Sam grinned, holding his glass up. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers you two. And Happy Christmas.’
Despite the paint-stripper-like qualities of the drink, I took another sip and let the alcohol spread through my body, relaxing every limb. I’d felt like a wound-up toy recently and was so grateful to have these two to talk to whenever I needed – even if they did tell me the truth a little too easily.
‘I guess you’ll never know who this J was now then?’ Rose said, a frown creasing her forehead.
I shuffled to sit up and placed my elbows on my knees. ‘That’s just it. I wondered whether there might actually be a way to find out.’
‘Ooh I love a mystery; tell me more,’ Sam said. His eyes shone with delight.
‘You know I play Mum songs to try and get her to remember things?’ I began.
‘Yep.’
‘Well, I always stick to the same songs – you know, the ones I know she loves, tunes that remind her of Dad, or of me, or of happy times, because I don’t want anything to freak her out. I’ve spent hours carefully curating Mum’s playlist so nothing takes her by surprise or upsets her too much. But what if, for a change, I played her some of the songs from this tape, the ones she might not have heard for years, to see if it helps her to remember who this J is?’
Rose scrutinised me for so long I wondered whether she’d even heard what I’d said. Eventually, she spoke, her words slow and deliberate. ‘The thing is, Erin, don’t you think she would have mentioned him before, if he’d been anyone important? I mean, your mum never really knows what day and time it is these days, and her mind definitely has no filter, so it’s not as if she could deliberately stop herself talking about someone to protect yours or your dad’s feelings, even if she wanted to.’
‘She sounds like me,’ Sam said, grinning.
