‘Do you want to stop?’ he said, his voice low.
‘Do you?’
‘I think we probably should. I mean, this clearly isn’t working.’
I nodded. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘How about one more?’
He shrugged. ‘Okay. But then we have to officially admit defeat.’
‘For today.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m only agreeing to admit defeat for today.’ I leaned forward to make my point. ‘I know this is disappointing, and it is for me too. But Adam, this can sometimes take weeks before it works.’
‘And does it always succeed in the end?’
I shook my head. ‘Not always. But there are times it seems as though it’s not working, and then suddenlypoof, a memory comes, just like that. It can be fleeting, a tiny spark, but it doesn’t matter. Once a memory has been ignited, you know the possibility is there.’
He nodded slowly. ‘Okay.’
‘So, ready?’
‘Yup.’
I took a deep breath, pressed play, and waited. Nirvana’s ‘Heart-Shaped Box’ began, the song Adam had been playing the day I’d found him busking; the song that had launched me instantly back to the day we’d met at the party. I watched Adam intently as it played, trying to work out whether anything was happening beneath his eyelids, any sign of recognition, but his face gave nothing away. Finally, the song came to an end and he slowly opened his eyes and searched me out.
‘Did it work?’ I felt my heart hammer with anticipation. ‘Did you remember something?’
He gave a slow nod. ‘I think I did.’
My belly flipped. ‘What was it? What did you see?’
He closed his eyes once more as though trying to conjure it up again. ‘I was playing the guitar, and there was a crowd of people round me, and I was lost in the music, and then I looked up and there you were. Except I didn’t know it was you, I just felt you watching me, as though there was a connection between us, drawing us together.’
I waited for him to carry on but he didn’t say anything else. He opened his eyes and looked at me hopefully. ‘Sorry, that’s it.’
‘Oh.’
‘You’re disappointed.’
‘I—’ I stopped. ‘I was hoping for something from your past. But this – this is from the day we met – just before Christmas I mean.’
He nodded slowly as realisation dawned. ‘Which means this hasn’t worked. It hasn’t unlocked any past memories.’ His voice was flat with disappointment.
‘Not yet, no.’
He looked so dejected I wanted to reassure him that it would be all right, that the memories would come, sooner or later. But I also didn’t want to lie to him or give him false hope, so instead I simply said: ‘Just give it time.’
He made me jump when he smacked himself in the forehead. ‘Stupid, stupid brain.’
‘Adam, stop it, you’ll hurt yourself,’ I cried, leaping to my feet. But his hands were bunched into furious fists and his face had transformed in a heartbeat from a calm, patient Adam into an angry, defensive, frustrated Adam I hadn’t seen before – or at least not for many years.
Watching him as he paced up and down the room, his body tight, full of pent-up aggression, I was transported back to another night, another time when I’d seen him behave in just the same way, when his frustration had bubbled over to boiling point and he’d been so close to exploding I’d felt nervous of being around him for the first time ever. Not scared. He was never that bad. But sometimes – something someone had said, or a slightly over-hard shove as he was walking past someone in the pub, or a comment about his band that wasn’t entirely complimentary, and he’d lose it for a few seconds. His body would coil with tension, just like it had now, and I was reminded of how volatile he could be. I wasn’t sure I liked it. It was such a far cry from what I was used to, being with Greg for so many years, I wasn’t sure how to handle it.
