Retrospection

Chapter Seven - Old Friends

“Hello?”

“You requested a six o’clock wake up call?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Susy figured that by forcing herself to arise at a relatively early hour she would quickly adapt to the different time zone. Of course, that had been last night; currently, she pulled the bed sheets over her head trying to recall her dream before she was interrupted by the telephone. But the unfortunate thing about dreams is that the moment the conscious disrupts the subconscious, any dream and all its pleasures vanish with it. Susy sighed. She had enjoyed it—whatever it had been about.

Tamara, obvious not pleased with today’s breakfast of cat food after the previous morning’s extravagance, came into the room hoping to find some sympathy. She hopped onto the bed and sat where she knew that she’d receive the desired attention—on Susy’s face.

“Fine! I’ll get up. It’s no wonder I can’t ever go back to my dreams with you around,” Susy said tossing off the covers and started to change into her running clothes. Tamara, now under the heap of blankets, meowed in dissatisfaction.

Since her accident four years earlier, Susy found that she could think best while she was running. She was able to almost separate herself from her thoughts and analyze any that needed further contemplation. On her first run in London, she decided that her meeting with Lupin yesterday needed serious examination. But as she ran through the park across from her hotel, she found herself reflecting more on the depth of his large gray eyes than of his mysterious conduct. Rather than making her head ache thinking about it, she decided to turn her mind to forming questions that she would ask him at their upcoming dinner. She hoped it would be unlike the dinner that she had attended the night before, where she had felt uneducated, underdressed, and uninvited. Arriving back at the hotel last night, Lori had informed Susy that instead of having dinner at the hotel restaurant, they were invited to the home of an old friend, who turned out to be the owner of a large cable television network. In her rush to quickly change into an appropriate dress, Susy hadn’t had time to inform Lori of her activities that day and her encounter with Lupin. As she thought about it now, she wondered if Lori would have liked the story. Would the meeting have inspired Lori in her task of making Susy’s dreams come true, or would it have reminded Lori of her own tragic romance—if there was one?

Upon returning to the hotel after her run, she quickly rushed into the lobby. Wanting to change out of her running clothes before breakfast, she didn’t pay much attention to where she was walking, which was right into—

"Mr. Applegate!"

“You’re late, Miss Blake. We’ve already gathered in the dining room. Follow me.”

“But I’m not dressed—”

“Now, Ms. Blake!”

By the tone of his voice, she knew his mood was very far from good. He sounds like my father, Susy thought before remembering that she didn’t know her father. As she followed him into the dining room, she thought it strange that she had never considered the sibling relationship before. While Lori’s blond hair, blue eyes, and perfect smile contrasted greatly with his black hair and dark eyes; either one could have been easily confused for a movie star. Now there’s good breeding, Susy thought. However, unlike Lori’s friendly and almost flirtatious personality, Steven Applegate was a man whose very presence demanded trepidation. She tried to imagine him in anything but his usual black designer suit which only made him look stiff and authoritative, but decided that there was nothing that he could wear that would make him look even remotely casual. In Salt Lake, Applegate had recently taken up hovering over Susy’s shoulder while she tried to work. He seemed to be almost daring her to give him a reason to fire her. Susy shivered just thinking about him.

“But how can you be sure that Potter will reach it first?” Lori’s voice quickly became sickeningly sweet as she noticed Susy and Applegate approaching the table where she and another man sat. “So, you’ve finally returned. I was beginning to worry, dear. Susy Blake, may I present Professor Alastor Moody,” Lori said as she and the man with whom she had been conversing stood up.

The man who stood before her was unlike anyone Susy had ever seen. His face and hands were scarred all over. He wore a bowler hat that was tilted over one eye, but the other seemed to be “sizing her up,” seeing if she was worth the effort of intimidating.

“How do you do,” Susy said timidly extending her hand.

Without accepting it, he grumbled “I’ve been better.”

After inviting everyone to sit down at the table, Lori said, “Alastor is an old—friend. He brought some news of several mutual acquaintances. But, unfortunately, he needs to leave us to get back to some of his students.”

"Such a shame,” Applegate muttered sardonically.

“Steven!” Lori reprimanded, but Susy noticed that the effect of her rebuff was insignificant to that of Moody’s one-eyed stare, which seemed to be drilling holes into Applegate.

“In two months, the world, as you know it, will cease to exist. I’d make sure you were on the winning side.” He winced as he took a quick drink from the flask at his side.

“Yes, well,” Lori said, trying to move past the awkward silence, “Alastor, why don’t I walk you to—uh—your car. Steven, be a dear; order some muffins for me while I’m gone, won’t you?”

Moody began to hobble towards the door, and Susy realized for the first time that morning that he had a wooden leg. What has he done to get that, she wondered. But before she could contemplate possible answers he turned and almost smiled at her. “I look forward to our next meeting, Miss Blake.” And with that he marched out of the room with Lori quickly following behind.

“What did he mean by that?” Susy questioned, thinking that his smile scared her more than his glare at Applegate. “When will we be meeting again?”

But he did not appear to be listening. The corner of his mouth twitched, making his pencil-thin mustache look like the needle on a seismograph. She considered asking him again when he whispered, “I need you, Miss Blake.”

“What?”

“I need your help.”

“Well, of course. I’ll do whatever you need. You are Editor & Chief of the Salt Lake Times.”

“No. That has nothing to do with it. I want you to keep an eye on Lori. She needs protection; someone to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid. But I can’t be here all the time.”

“Mr. Applegate, I wasn’t asked to come to London to spy on you sister.”

Her glass of orange juice nearly flew off the table as he grabbed her wrist. “Where did you hear that?”

“What?”

“That Lori is my sister?”

Realizing that she slipped, she hoped she could sound convincing enough that he’d not ask for further details. “It’s one of the rumors back in Salt Lake, but I didn’t know for sure that it was true.” It was partly the truth. Once she’d written a detailed letter to Jarett informing him of what had happened the previous weekend, everyone in Salt Lake would know of the sibling relationship between the owner of the Salt Lake Times and its chief editor.

“Oh.” He shifted uneasily and let go of her wrist; she massaged it gently while he continued. “It wouldn’t be spying—not really. I just want to know if she meets up with any other wiz—weird individuals—like Moody. Will you help me, Miss Blake?”

Helping the man she had come to fear was not exactly something she wanted to do. But if she refused, would she still have a job when she returned home? As she thought about it, she decided that Moody was certainly eccentric, but the possibility of meeting more people like him had to be extremely small. “Alright, but I’m not doing anything strange like talking in a secret code over the telephone.”

“No, of course not.” He finished his cup of coffee, straightened his silk tie, and stood up to leave. “Tell Lori that I’ve got to catch a plane. I’ll be in touch, Miss Blake.”

He walked out of the restaurant only moments before Lori returned. She seemed a little distracted, so Susy quickly finished her breakfast in silence and returned to her room to finally change her clothing. After a quick shower, she sat down at her desk and added two additional names to her list of influential people in Lori’s life: Steven Applegate and Alastor Moody.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Mr. Lupin,

I am sorry, but as you’ve probably already deduced, I will not be able to have dinner with you this evening. My employer, Ms. Rouselore, has an important engagement planned for this weekend that I must attend with her that, unfortunately, can not be rescheduled. I apologize for not letting you know earlier, but there was no way of contacting you. Perhaps we could we reschedule for sometime next week?

I look forward to your response. Once again, I am sorry to disappoint you.

Sincerely,

Susy Blake

She put her pen down. She hated disappointing anyone, and hoped the most recent of her twelve drafts would express her own regret well. But deciding it was too formal and business-like, she was about to crumple it up and start on draft number thirteen when Lori knocked on the door and she and the hotel valet came in. The valet took Susy’s overnight case from her bed and left the room.

“Are you ready?” Lori asked as she looked over the room.

“Almost. I just need to find my handbag and drop this off at the front desk,” she replied as she folded and addressed the letter. The formality would have to do.

“I’ll take it, dear. I need to leave a message there, too,” Lori offered.

Susy handed her letter to Lori and after she left the room, Susy dropped to the floor, searching under her bed for her handbag. Five minutes later, she found it hanging on the back of the door. Right where it’s supposed to be. I hate it when that happens, she thought. She tossed the strap over her shoulder, grabbed her notebook that she was using for writing, locked her hotel room door, and rushed down to Lori and the waiting taxi.

“So, where are we going?” Susy asked once the taxi took off.

“I thought I’d show you the house where my grandparents lived. My grandmother left me her cottage when she passed away two years ago, but I haven’t had time to come over and see what sort of condition it’s in.”

That didn’t sound to Susy much like an important engagement that couldn’t be rescheduled, but decided that there wasn’t anything that she could do about it now. Hopefully, she thought, he’ll understand. “Lori, I was wondering—” Susy began, but was interrupted for the second time that week by a telephone ringing.

“Sorry, let me take this. I’ll be quick.” Lori pulled out her new eight-inch cellular telephone and began conducting business with contacts back in America. When it became apparent that she would need to occupy her own time because Lori was nearly holding a staff meeting over the phone, Susy pulled out her notes and began reviewing what she knew for Lori’s biography.

Lorelei Rouselore was born in England; but when she was two years old, her grandfather passed away and her father thought it best that the family move to Salt Lake City so he could take control of the family-owned Salt Lake Times. She spent the next nine years in the States, but returned when she was accepted at a prestigious private school in Scotland which both of her parents had attended. A few years after graduating, her father became ill and unable to manage the business, so she returned to Salt Lake. When he passed away, she took over ownership of the Salt Lake Times and managed during the next ten years to bring the obscure little newspaper up to third place in the number of state-wide readers.

It was a decent start for only a week’s worth of interviews, but Susy had hoped to find Lori more willing to share information about her personal life. Every time Lori finished answering one of Susy’s questions, she’d asked one of her own. After thoroughly explaining her exact relationship with Jarett, her memories after her accident and rescue, and all of her own personal dreams; Susy hoped that they would be able to move past her own life and onto the reason why they were there in the first place. Due to the lack of enthusiasm in relating her own life, Susy sometimes wondered if Lori really even wanted her biography written.

“Susy, are you coming?”

Startled to find Lori standing on the pavement waiting for her, she stepped out of the taxi and followed Lori into a large business building. “You’re grandmother lived here?” she questioned, wondering if she had misunderstood Lori when she had said her grandparents had met in a small village near the coast. There was no sign of the ocean on this broad store-lined street.

“No, of course not, dear. We haven’t even left London yet. But I wanted to stop here first.”

Susy felt that she was soon going to find out the real reason for their expedition; and finding Lori’s smile a little too bright, she assumed that she wasn’t going to like it. Her apprehension grew as she arrived on the fourth floor and followed Lori into what could only be a doctor’s office waiting room. Ignoring their entrance, the receptionist turned a page of her tabloid magazine.

Suspecting that she already knew the answer, she tried not to grit her teeth too tightly as she asked, “Are you ill, Lori?”

“No, dear. We’re here for you,” Lori replied sweetly as if she had just offered a toddler an ice cream cone. “Dr. Pye is an old friend of mine and the leading amnesia expert in England. I hope you don’t mind.”

Susy did mind—very much. After three years of hearing doctors say that they couldn’t do anything for her but would still like to try one more test, she’d finally given up and refused to see any further “leading amnesia experts.” She had decided that modern medicine, at this point in time, would not be able to help her. There was nothing she would have liked better than to turn around and leave the office immediately, but how would that look when Lori was just trying to be considerate. Yes, Lori, thank you for allowing me to come to England, stay in an incredible hotel, and manage to accomplish all my dreams, her conscious mocked. But I must not really appreciate it because rather than being considerate of your feelings, I’m just worried about my own personal dislike of physicians. Pushing down her rising temper, she pasted on a very apparent fake grin and said, “It’s fine.”

“Good,” Lori said, “I’m sure that Healer, pardon me, Doctor Pye will find something that they overlooked in Salt Lake.”

Susy doubted it, but continued with her forced smile as Lori cleared her throat. The receptionist, unable to ignore their presence any longer, put aside her tabloid magazine.

“What do you want?” she barked.

“We’d like to see Dr. Pye,” Lori answered with a big toothy smile.

The receptionist mockingly sneered, “Do you have an appointment?”

“Well, no. But Maxim is an old friend from—”

“No appointment, no visit. Next?”

Susy glanced around the empty waiting room as the receptionist picked up her magazine. It was a large room, tastefully decorated, but had several uncomfortable looking chairs and a coffee table with several months worth of old magazines and tabloids. The photographs of landscapes on the walls looked so lifelike that she almost thought she saw the wind blowing through the trees.

“Pardon me, madam,” Lori addressed the receptionist, still smiling, but Susy could see the restraint behind it. “We’d like to make an appointment.”

“Six weeks,” came the reply from behind the tabloid.

“What?”

“That’s the first opening Dr. Pye has.”

“But we need to see him today.”

“Well, you should have thought about that six weeks ago then. Next?”

Lori scowled and all pretenses of civility vanished from her face. “Come along, Susy. It appears the old bat doesn’t want our business.” She turned to leave but bumped into a large man who had just walked through the door. “Excuse me.”

“Lorelei? Galloping gargoyles! Is it really you? What’s it been, thirteen years since I saw you last? What are you doing?”

“Leaving, Maxim. Apparently, we’re not wanted.”

“Nonsense. However did you come by that idea?” And then he seemed to understand. “Eunice?”

“What? They didn’t have an appointment,” the receptionist answered casually.

Susy bit her lip to keep from laughing. Eunice? That’s a person named Eunice?

“How am I supposed to heal anyone if you keep running off all the patients?” the doctor asked.

“I was only hired to keep track of your appointments. It’s none of my concern that your freaky friends don’t want to stay.”

The doctor’s face turned an ugly shade of purple. “Eunice! Coffee! Now!”

The receptionist, eyes wide with astonishment, quickly left the room, but not before glaring ferociously at Lori.

The doctor took several deep breaths before turning back to Lori and Susy. “I don’t know what to do with that woman. My mother-in-law,” he said as if that explained everything. “Wife seemed to think that if I gave her a job she might settle down a bit, but she just doesn’t understand our kind. She’s normally quite civilized towards us. But enough of my problems; how have you been, Lorelei?”

Lori smiled slightly as she answered, “Just fine, Maxim. Besides your mother-in-law, how’s your family? I heard your father was made head of his department a few years ago.”

“Yes, meaning we see him even less than before; but he seems happy enough, so we can’t complain too much.”

“So, did your brother, Augustus, decide to follow your footsteps or your father’s?” Lori asked glancing quickly at Susy.

“Neither actually. He’s just started his training on the second floor of St. Mungo’s.”

“Wonderful! Congratulate him for me the next time you see him. How’s he doing so far?”

“Pretty well. But he’s completely obsessed with a piece of alternative medicine. I pity the man who decides to let him put it into practice.”

“Why, Maxim, I wonder where he learned that?” Lori teased.

“Don’t look at me! He’s the one who wants to go about sticking needles into people and trying to sew them up. Not me,” he said, trying to find a way to defend himself. “But of course, if it wasn’t for their recent studies of the human mind, I don’t believe that you’d be here today with this lovely young woman.”

“Forgive me,” Lori said, “Susy, this is Dr. Maxim Pye. We were friends in school.”

“Nice to meet you,” Susy said shaking Dr. Pye’s hand.

“And you. You look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?” he questioned, without letting go of her hand.

“It’s possible. But I’m afraid that would have to be something you told me.”

“Say no more, I completely understand. Please, follow me.”

Lori interrupted before Dr. Pye motion for Susy to precede him. “Maxim, can I speak to you for a moment in private before you try to do—you know?” she stuttered, flicking her hand.

“Certainly, Lorelei.”

“You don’t mind, do you, dear?”

“No, go right ahead,” Susy said. Dr. Pye led Lori into a room off to the right and Susy found herself with an opportunity to escape. Now’s your chance, she thought, Run! Lori would just have to explain Susy’s inconsiderateness to Dr. Pye herself. After all, Lori was the one to get her into the predicament in the first place. And after observing Lori for the past week, Susy had no doubts that she would be able to talk her way out of any inconveniences.

“If you want to be a coward, I’d suggest running now,” Eunice said as she returned with a pot of coffee and several mugs, causing Susy to jump in surprise. “I might be able to delay your sister long enough for you to get a car.” It was the perfect opportunity, but Eunice had presented one thing that Susy had not thought of—running away would be cowardly. And Susy was no coward.

“She’s not my sister, she’s my boss.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t let my boss push me around like she pushes you.”

“She just likes to have things her own way.”

“Yes, just like everyone else. But what about you? Why aren’t you out getting what you want?”

“I am.” Trying to justify herself, she continued, “I’m seeing the world, I’m writing professionally, I’m doing things that I’ve dreamed about.”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m—not unhappy.”

“But you’re not happy. And that’s the point.”

“I hardly think that I need a receptionist to tell me what to do with my life.”

“But apparently your boss can.”

Eunice did have a point. Since they had arrived, they had traveled to sites that Lori had been interested in seeing, visited Lori’s old friends, attended events that Lori had wanted to go to; in fact, the whole trip was to help promote Lori’s business by publishing Lori’s biography. Susy didn’t even have time to read her new copy Sense and Sensibility because she was always busy with writing or editing her notes of that day’s work. She had accepted the job for the opportunity to accomplish her dreams; but if things progressed as they had for the past week, she would spend the rest of her time meeting “old friends” of Lori’s.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered tossing a pillow from one of the armchairs across the room knocking one of the portraits off center.

“I never said it was,” Eunice replied from behind her tabloid.

Moments later, Dr. Pye and Lori reentered the room. As he motioned for Susy to follow him, Eunice reminded him that his next appointment should be arriving around eleven o’clock.

“So, Lorelei says you can’t remember anything and would like me to fix that,” he said offering her a seat in one of his examination rooms.

“Dr. Pye, I don’t know exactly what Lori told you about me, but my life really isn’t any of her business. The only reason I’m here is because I couldn’t think of nice way of saying no. So before you begin doing your hocus-pocus to magically find the cure to my amnesia, let me tell you that I have been to every expert in the western United States who specializes in amnesia and not one was able to shed a shimmer of light on what’s happened to me. What makes you any different?” Perhaps she was being a little rude; but the sooner he said that he couldn’t do anything to help her, the sooner she’d be able to leave.

“I cannot speak for any of the physicians that you have seen previously, Miss Blake; I can only say that I know from personal experience how difficult it can be to have lost one’s memories and sense of identity.”

“Really. Impress me.” She’d heard this attempt before. That psychiatrist had gone on to tell her about how he’d been abducted by aliens that were planning to take over the world. They had wiped his memory so he couldn’t warn the inhabitants of the Earth; but by eating a diet consisting of nothing but lima beans and watermelon, he’d been able to regain his memory.

“It’s nothing very spectacular. As a boy, I took a nasty fall during my first month at school. The nurse sent me home with instructions to rest and wait for my memories to return. It took about a week for me to remember my own name and it was easily a month before I was able to return to school. The loss of memories wasn’t the hard part, though; it was the reaction my friends had to my condition. Some treated me as if nothing had happened, others tried to fix my problems, and many pretended from that point on that I never even existed. That can be very traumatic for an eleven-year-old.”

“Dr. Pye,” Susy solemnly said, “you are the only ‘expert’ out of the dozens that I’ve seen that has had an actual personal experience recovering from amnesia. I’d like to see verification of your story before I consent to another visit. But until then, you have fifty minutes until your next appointment and an empty waiting room.”

“Thank you for your confidence,” he muttered sarcastically while picking up a clipboard and pen. “Of course, if you consent to seeing me on a regular basis, I’d need to retrieve your medical files from the States before I begin recommending any treatments. I don’t think either of us would like to repeat something that’s already been done.” Susy nodded and he continued, “Since we are on a time schedule, why don’t you tell me what you know about your amnesia.”

This was a first. None of the experts had ever been interested in her own opinion. “Alright, I’ve had amnesia for four years,” she paused, waiting for the usual shock about the lengthy duration to wear off. He motioned for her to continue. “I’ve been told that I have a form of anterograde, retrograde, hysterical, dissociative, or traumatic amnesia. One psychiatrist even said that I had some combination of all of them. From my own research, I believe it to be a type of retrograde amnesia; you know, the loss of memory before an accident?”

“I am familiar with the terminology, Miss Blake,” he said, looking up from his notes.

“Just checking.”

“Let me ask some standard questions before we go further. Tell me, what’s the first thing you remember?”

Susy was impressed on how quickly the conversation was moving. It had taken some physicians and psychiatrists three of four sessions to get this far. She told Dr. Pye about how the first thing she remembered was slamming into the side of a cliff. “I guess I must have just gotten too close to the edge and slipped. Luckily, I was able to grab hold of the ledge before plummeting to almost certain death.” She managed to bang her head against the cliff, and the next thing she remembered was a young man kneeling over her. He asked if she was trying to be the next squaw to jump off Squaw Peak. Jarett had been hiking that evening, trying to ignore that fact that he should be studying for his summer term finals, when he had heard her scream. He took her to the emergency room where she was left in the care of physicians for her cuts and bruises.

“Remarkable! What astounds me the most is the fact that you actually remember colliding with the mountain. Most amnesiacs don’t remember the exact incident or what happened directly before it. Tell me, since your collision, have you experienced any blackouts or find yourself not remembering doing something or how you arrived somewhere?”

“No.”

“Any moments of resorting to physical violence in frustration, confusion, or depression?”

“A few.”

“Care to elaborate on that, Miss Blake?”

“I, er, occasionally throw things when I get extremely angry. Nothing fragile,” she added in defense, “usually a pillow or something else unbreakable.”

“Throwing pillows,” he repeated as he jotted it in his notes. “Nothing more drastic?”

“I really don’t see what that has to do with anything,” she said quickly rising from her seat. He wrote Evades questions about intensity of violence. Losing control of her temper, she shouted “I do not!”

“Then answer the question.”

Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to let him interrogate her before tests were taken. She didn’t have the results, or rather, lack of results from any tests as an excuse to stop treatments. She glanced at the clock; there were still fifteen minutes left until the next patient would arrive. Storming out of the office now would only merit a lecture from Lori on her inappropriate behavior. She’s acting like my mother, she thought. Fourteen and a half minutes; if she could play along and answer his invading questions for that long, she’d never have to see him again.

“No,” she smiled sweetly while sitting down, “I’ve never done anything more drastic than throwing pillows.” He was writing again, and she assumed it was probably something like Doesn’t lie successfully when angry.

“Do you ever find things just happening when you’re upset?”

“I don’t know, I try not to get upset much.”

“Miss Blake, you’re evading the question again.”

“Fine. One incident in particular comes to mind. Tuition for the semester was due, the school said I hadn’t paid, yet the bank said my check had cleared. I was comparing the two contrasting letters.”

“And?”

“And a rhinoceros stampeded through the room.” Dr. Pye didn’t find her comment amusing as he continued writing. “All right, I think I was complaining about the intelligence level of those working in tuition office, and whoosh the letter went flying across the room and spontaneously erupted into flames. Jarett rushed to close the open window, but there wasn’t any wind. In fact, it was probably one of the calmest days that I’ve seen in Salt Lake City. Now you’re going to think that I’ve lost my mind as well as my memories.”

“On the contrary, it makes perfect sense.”

“It does?”

“Yes. You see, when one is upset—”

There was a knock at the door.

“Dr. Pye, he’s here early today.”

“Thank you, Eunice.”

“I would hurry. He says he wants to show you the progress he’s made on his joined-up writing.”

“Alright, send him in,” he sighed as he stood up. “Miss Blake, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to cut our meeting short today. Leave your address with Eunice at the front desk, I’ll send over my credentials. If you’re willing, I do have one or two therapies that I would like to try to help you with.”

“Thank you.”

“No; thank you, Miss Blake. It would be a pleasure to work with you.”

But a pleasure that will be never happen, she thought as she left the room. Eunice entered the hallway leading a man in a long cerulean dressing gown. Eunice, in her floral print dress and sleeveless, knitted cardigan contrasted greatly to the handsome man with his wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. But Susy had to admit that his vacant expression left much to be desired.

“Hold up there,” he said, pushing a strand of hair away from his eyes as they passed. “She doesn’t have one of my autographs yet.”

“Really, Gilderoy, we don’t have time for this today,” was the reply as Eunice forced him into the examination room Susy just left. As she walked back into the waiting room, wondering what had happened to the man to put him in such a situation, she noticed an elderly woman sitting next to Lori reading a newspaper despite Lori’s attempts to engage her in conversation. The woman looked like some type of nurse, and Susy wondered if she had come with the man she had passed.

“There you are, dear,” Lori said now ignoring the nurse. “Have your memories returned?”

Susy thought that she had gained control over her temper once she left the examination room. Obviously, she was mistaken. Calm down, she thought. It’s really not that big of a deal! Had you known beforehand, you wouldn’t have come. So, in reality, she’s done you a favor by eliminating another expert from the list. “Lori, it doesn’t work that like. Amnesia is very complex. It takes time to see results.”

“Oh, I see. Well, let’s go. We’ve got some more stops to make before this evening, and I don’t want to be late.”

Susy followed Lori out of the office, after setting the portrait straight on the wall that she had offset and returning the pillow to its chair. Deep breaths, she thought hoping her reasoning could suppress her anger. She was successful—until they left the building.

“I wonder if we can make it to Dewhurst’s office before he leaves for the weekend,” Lori said signaling for a taxi that was up the street. “Maybe a psychologist will work better—”

Susy froze where she was. The grasp she had on her temper vanish as the taxi pulled along side the curb. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting into the taxi, dear. We’re going to be late—”

“No. I don’t care! I don’t have to go with you. You’re not my mother!”

“I never said I was, dear. I just thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong,” she was shouting now, but didn’t care.

“Susy, get into the car,” Lori plead, still holding the door open. “Let’s not make a scene in public.”

“No, of course not. We wouldn’t want any bad publicity to ruin your perfect character that matches your perfect life. You might not get invited to any more perfect dinners with more of your perfect old friends.” Tired of seeing the curiosity on the taxi driver’s face, she stormed off up the crowded street. Susy knew she should have seen this coming. Her boss suddenly takes great interest her condition, and since she had money and connections she had thought she could put them to good use. It had all happened to her before with former friends and professors. When would they get it into their heads that her memories weren’t coming back, and no amount of money they put forth would change that?

“Susy! Susy, dear, wait!” Lori was nearly half a block behind her due to the instability of her designer pumps. “Can’t we discuss this rationally?”

“Oh, rationally,” she bellowed, stopping suddenly. “Alright, let’s discuss.”

“Let’s go somewhere that’s not quite so public.”

“No. Let's discuss it right here. You think you can fix my life, but you can’t. My amnesia makes me feel like...like I get the chance to start my life over again. I can accept that. My life is certainly nowhere near perfect, but I’ve been quite content with it to this point. And I don’t need you to start messing that up.”

“I just thought that Dr. Pye, or even Dewhurst, could help since they specialize in amnesia victims.”

Susy groaned and took off back down the street, ignoring the fire hydrant that had just burst a cap and was spewing water over the on looking shoppers. She slowed down enough to make sure Lori was within hearing distance as she ran to catch up. “I’ve been to all 39 doctors in the western United States who ‘specialize with amnesia victims’ as you call them. I’ve even had doctors from across the US come and see if they could be the lucky one to unlock my memory. I’m tired of being poked, prodded, and x-rayed. Every doctor comes back with the same result: I have temporary amnesia that’s lasted four 4 years, which isn’t supposed to happen—but it did. I just want to be left alone.” She stopped in front of an old red-brick department store to allow Lori to catch her breathe.

“So...pant...you enjoy not knowing your...family? You want to...pant...live the rest of your days as Susy Blake...humble reporter? This way of life is good enough for you? Well...let’s go back to the hotel. I’m sure there’s a plane...you can catch back to Salt Lake.”

“No. I don’t want to return yet,” Susy muttered as guilt slowly enveloped her. Her temper had gotten her into trouble again. “I said I would write your biography and I will. I’ll stay and meet all your friends and do whatever else you need me to do. Just don’t plan appointments and other personal things behind my back.”

“So, you don’t want to visit Dr. Dewhurst?” Lori grinned.

“No! I don’t!” Susy said louder than she was intended. If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn the dummy in the dusty department store window turned its head to look at her.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Stumbling over Tamara, Susy threw away her messages as the valet brought in her case and place it on her bed. Seven messages and not one of them were from him. She had thought that Lupin would understand her absence, but apparently she had been mistaken. The telephone rang and as she answered it she hoped he was calling to reschedule.

“Hello?”

“Ya know, the telephone was invented almost a hundred years ago. It works a whole heck of a lot faster than the postal service.”

“Jarett? Is that you?”

“Yeah, who else do ya think would be calling?”

“With the people I’ve met recently, I wouldn’t know. Ouch!” In her efforts to tip the valet and maintaining her conversation over the phone, she had accidentally stepped on Tamara’s tail. Tamara retaliated by scratching her leg.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. My cat’s just showing me how much she missed me.”

“So where have you been all weekend long? I left like half a dozen messages for you.”

“I just got them, Jarett. We spent the weekend at her grandmother’s cottage.”

“A cottage? I thought Rouselore was wealthy beyond belief!”

“She is. But that doesn’t mean her grandparents can’t have a summer cottage on the coast. It’s twice the size of your parents’ home.”

“Good gravy!”

“So, Jarett why did you call?”

“Oh, I just wanted to make sure that you’re alright. I picked up your mail. You’ve got another letter from Eddie. Do you want me to send it to you?”

“Yes. Would you?” Susy glanced guiltily at the still unanswered letter lying on her desk. She decided that she would answer it when she received the other one from Salt Lake. She placed the letter in one of the desk drawers and started to organize the papers on the desk. “Jarett, I need you to do me a favor.”

“Sure.”

“Talk to Nancy up in research for me. Have her find everything available on Lori and on her brother, Steven Applegate.”

“Sure…whoa! Back up! Her brother?”

“Yes.”

“Sweet! Anything else?”

“Well, if she can find anything on an Alastor Moody that’d be nice. She’ll probably have to go to the international files for that one. In fact, have her check all of them in the international files.”

“That’s a lot of work for Nancy to do. She’s going to need some incentive to get it done by a reasonable date.”

“Tell her I’ll buy her a triple chocolate Daddy Doug’s Sundae the moment I get back.” Susy smiled. Having worked with Nancy before, she knew her weaknesses.

“So, what’s put you in such a splendid mood today?” Jarett asked.

“Let’s just say that it’s my turn to work behind someone else’s back.”