Exasperated, he kept quiet and started looking around. To change the topic he said, “Won’t you offer
me a cup of your marvelous tea? I’m chilled
to the bone by the cold wind outside!”
“Oh, of
course, why not? I’m sorry that I didn’t
offer you any, on my own. I’m extremely
sorry…” As Arnold saw that she was embarking on another of her babbling
sessions, he showed her the action of drinking tea from a mug. Chastened, she rushed into the kitchen and
busied herself making the brew.
“If he’s not
Norman, who is he and why is he so concerned about me that he comes to meet me
everyday?” She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that handsome man
leafing idly through a magazine on her coffee table.
His fingers
were slender and long, his head bent now, was a thick mop of rich brown hair,
his features were very aristocratic and he looked wealthy. Most of all, he was gentle, kind and
considerate. Amusing too! A total package, she chuckled inwardly. 100% husband material, she thought, amazed at
the train of her thoughts. She wished
that he was Norman!
But if he said he wasn’t, Norman was another man, the one who loved her and was going to
eventually marry her.
What was Norman like? She
couldn’t remember even a single thing about him. Wait a minute! She remembered that beautiful
broach in the drawer of her closet. Had
he given it to her? His taste was
impeccable and classy then! Not bad, eh,
she wondered. But she was anxious to
know what he looked like.
Arnold had
informed her that he was a respectable and acclaimed publisher and had even
published many of her writings. Now that was another source of worry for
her. Was she really a writer? Why didn’t she write or even feel like
writing those days?
“Here’s your
tea, Arnold. I hope I haven’t forgotten
to add sugar. I seem to be forgetting
everything these days! I only hope that
I remember who I am or else I may forget even that some day.” Seeing the stricken expression clouding her
lovely eyes, Arnold immediately reassured her, “I’m sure that you won’t
Martha. It’s just a temporary
phase. You just need to take a long
break from your routine and mingle in society.
Norman feels that it’d be a great help to him, if you could go to his
office for at least 3 hours every day and oversee its operations.”
“By the way,
where is Norman now? Why is he not
coming here?” Martha inquired in a puzzled tone. Arnold shrugged wearily, as for the umpteenth
time he told her that Norman was with his ex-wife Nancy, suffering from cancer,
at her home in Scotland.
“Well, if he
can’t come here, can we go and meet both Norman and Nancy there! Let’s surprise them!” Arnold looked at her
thoughtfully and simply said, “I’ll have to consult with Norman, Martha. You must realize that your arrival there,
could affect Nancy’s well-being.”
“Why and how
would my presence there upset Nancy?
I’ll tend to her like my own sister,” said Martha plaintively, Arnold
struggled to swallow the sudden lump formed in his throat. How he wished that this wonderful woman could
become all right again! He mentally made
a note about taking Dr. Frank Hutchings appointment. Dr. Frank Hutchings was an authority on
mental disorders, a renowned psychiatrist.
Arnold decided
to brief Norman about Martha’s well-being that night and ask his permission to
take her to that psychiatrist for an assessment. The sooner, the better!
Late that
night, midnight to be precise, with a heavy heart Norman gave his go-ahead to
Arnold. He felt as if a huge burden laid
on his heart and try as he might, it couldn’t be lifted. Restless and uneasy, with sleep eluding him,
he sat down to meditate.
**********************
At that very
moment, Martha was perusing the pages filled with her story. She had just finished reading the manuscript.
It was obviously incomplete and begging to be completed. Why of course she remembered now! Her heroine Sara, the fair and brave damsel
in distress, the troubled King and Minister of Regina, the sorrowful Queen, the
spunky Myara, the beautiful Princess Sara, the handsome one-eyed Juan; the
suitor for the Princess, the forbidden shrine and a host of other characters
and incidents in her unfinished novel flashed in front of her minds eye, like a
picture fast-forwarded! Yes, she had
conjured them and brought them to life in her manuscript.
Her pulse
quickened with familiar excitement. She was the author; the writer. So Arnold was right! She couldn’t wait to brief him about
regaining her memory. But first she had
to start writing. When was the last time
she had written? She saw the date on the
last 3-4 sheets. 07.05.2013. Good Lord! Today it was 30.05.2013. Three weeks had been wasted in her
forgetfulness. She chided herself and
started writing.
********************
Myara reached
Juan’s small abode and called out to his mother. “Is anybody at home? I am here to meet Juan’s mother! Hello, hello, anyone about?” Not getting any
response, and seeing the door open; she peeped in to see a shocking sight. An old and infirm lady lay on a rope-strung
bed over which an old and sagging mattress was spread. She was just skin and bone. Obviously starving since ages! Her eyes were sunken and stared vacantly into
space.
Scared stiff,
Myara gently touched that lady’s forehead.
She didn’t stir. She shook her
slightly. No response. Myara shuddered. Was that lady, probably Juan’s mother,
dead? If so, her worst nightmare had
come true. She had been dreading this
eventuality from the start of her mission but had hoped against hope that she’d
succeed in getting her and going with her to that forbidden shrine to get Juan
released. Now she felt as if all her
hopes had dashed to the ground. But she
wasn’t one to give up so easily.
To be continued...
The copyright of this novel is with Mrs. Priya Ramesh Swaminathan.
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