He found the checkbook and wrote a check for one hundred pounds. He scribbled a note on the hospital’s paper and slipped it into an envelope with the check. He wrote the address Sue had dictated to him, then propped up the envelope, ready for mailing in the morning.
He sat back in his chair for a while, dwelling pleasurably on her intimate and affectionate words at the end of the conversation. He closed his eyes, trying to remember her face.
A little later he returned to the documents he had scattered across the table. These had been in his possession since arriving in Devon, but he had scarcely looked at them. Nothing could have seemed more irrelevant. His affairs, such as they were, were being looked after by a solicitor retained by the newspaper, and in fact the check to Sue was the first he had written since the car bomb.
Suddenly interested in himself, he opened the checkbook and looked through the counterfoils. About half of the twenty-five checks had been used, and the dates scrawled on the counterfoils were all in the period immediately prior to the bomb. Hoping for a clue, he looked at each one but soon realized he could learn nothing from them. Most of them were made out to cash; there was one to British Telecom, one to the London Electricity Board, one to a bookshop, and one to G.F.&T. Ltd for the sum of Ł12.53. This last item was the only one he failed to understand, but he couldn’t see that it was significant.
His address book was also in the box—a small, plastic-bound notebook. He knew most of it was blank, because he had never been very good at writing down addresses, but nevertheless he turned to the page for K. There was no entry for Sue—unsurprising, but vaguely disappointing. It would have been a sort of proof, a link with his forgotten past.
He went through the entire book, examining everything. Most of the addresses were of people he could remember: colleagues, old girlfriends, the aunt in Australia. Several of the names had just telephone numbers against them. Everything in the book had that familiar feeling from his known past, providing him with nothing new.
Just as he was about to put it aside, he thought to look at the back of the last page, a memory stirring that he sometimes used it for scribbled notes. There he found what he was looking for: amid a number of obscure pieces of arithmetic, a reminder of a dental appointment and a couple of doodles was the word “Sue.” Next to it was a London telephone number.
For a moment he was tempted to pick up his phone and call her immediately, celebrate the fact that he had found her in his own past, but he held back. He was content with what had passed between them. He would see her on the weekend, and did not want to risk her changing her mind yet again.
He put the address book in his pocket, thinking he could easily check with her that this was still her present number. That would be enough to give him the sort of proof he needed, verify the link with himself.
VIII
The following morning Grey visited Dr. Hurdis’s office. He was still in the optimistic mood of the evening before, had slept well, and had done so for the first time without painkilling medication. The psychiatrist was waiting for him, and introduced him to a young woman who was also in the room.
“Richard, this is one of my postgraduate researchers, Miss Alexandra Gowers. Richard Grey.”
“How do you do?”
They shook hands formally, Grey registering that she looked very young. She was wearing a red skirt with a black woollen pullover, and had spectacles and long dark hair.
“With your permission, Richard, I’d like Miss Gowers to be present while you are hypnotized. Would you have any objections to that?”
“Not at all.”
“This is just a preliminary session. What I’d like to do is put you into a light trance and see how you react to that. If it goes well, I might try to deepen the trance a little.”
“Whatever you think is right,” Grey said. That morning he had been feeling curious about what hypnosis might be like, but not nervous at the prospect.
Dr. Hurdis and the young woman helped him out of his wheelchair, and then Hurdis took his weight as he lowered himself into one of the leather chairs and made himself comfortable.
“Now, do you have any questions, Richard?”
“I’d like to know about the trance—does it mean I will lose consciousness?”
“No, you’ll be awake the whole time. You’ll remember everything afterwards. Hypnosis is simply a form of relaxation.”
“That’s all right, then.”
“What I want you to do is try to cooperate as far as possible. You can speak, move your hands, open your eyes, and none of this will break the trance. The main thing I want you to realize is that we might not get results straight away, and you mustn’t feel disappointed.”
“I understand that.”
“All right.” Hurdis was standing to his side, and he reached over and stretched out an angle-poise lamp so that it was somewhere above Grey’s head. “Can you see this?”
“Yes.”
Hurdis moved it back a little. “What about here?”
“Just about.”
“Keep looking up so the lamp is on the edge of your vision. Relax your body as much as you can, and let your breathing get very steady and easy. Listen to what I’m saying, and if your eyes feel tired, let them close.” in the room, Grey was aware that Alexandra Gowers had moved away and was sitting on one of the straight-backed chairs against the walls. “Keep the lamp in sight and listen to me, and while you do so I would like you to start counting backwards to yourself, count to yourself, count from three hundred downwards, start now, keep counting, and listen to what I’m saying, but keep counting slowly 299 to yourself, and breathing 298 very gently and slowly, and think 297 of nothing but looking up at the lamp and 296 counting slowly backwards listening 295 to what I’m saying, and feeling your body very relaxed 294 and comfortable, very comfortable, your legs 293 feel very heavy, your arms feel very heavy 292 and now your eyes are beginning to feel 291 very tired, so if you wish you can close them, let them close, but keep 290 counting slowly and listening, your body is very relaxed 289 and now your eyes have closed but you are 289 288 still counting slowly, while you feel you are drifting backwards, very relaxed as you drift slowly backwards, and now 287 you are feeling very drowsy, very comfortable as you drift backwards, feeling drowsy, listening to what I’m saying but getting drowsy, drifting deeper and deeper into sleep, but still listening to what I’m saying …”
Grey felt comfortable and relaxed and drowsy, but was still aware of all that was around him. He had his eyes closed and was listening to Dr. Hurdis, but he could also sense further. Outside in the hall two people walked past, talking to each other, and somewhere in the room Alexandra Gowers had made a clicking noise with a ballpoint pen, and rustled some paper. In the next room a telephone rang, and someone answered it. Obedient to Hurdis’s suggestions his body felt completely relaxed, but his mind was alert.
“… drifting backwards, feeling drowsy, listening to me, your body is relaxed and you are sleepy. Good, Richard, that’s excellent. Now stay breathing very steadily, but what I want you to do is concentrate on your right hand. Think about your right hand, and how it feels, and concentrate on it, and perhaps you find it is resting on something very soft, something very light, very light, something that is supporting your hand, something that is pressing up very gently from below, lifting your hand, lifting your hand …”