Rainfall (20 page)

Chapter 25

For the first time ever Doctor Sheldon’s lethargy-inspiring, hypnosis-inducing speech does not make me sleepy. I am far too anxious. I'm worried about Adam for what he is about to learn; saddened by the inevitable loss of Jacob and thrilled by the imminent disappearance of Simon. I am on the edge of my seat, literally and figuratively. It seems that all too soon Carl is calling on Jacob to come forward. I am so proud of Jacob, he 'appears' almost immediately, and when Carl asks him if he can repeat his story he does not hesitate. It's almost as though speaking the words aloud is the catharsis that Jacob has always needed to heal. He seems to grow in stature with every word, and he sits up straighter, his voice growing stronger and stronger until he sounds almost like, well, Adam. I barely have time to ponder this when Jacob concludes his story. Carl Sheldon looks nauseated and more than a little shocked. We are both aware that this is not the end of Adam’s ordeal – the shocking discovery of the murder of Adam’s parents will result in a criminal case, one that may be investigated for years to come. It will have to be reported to the police immediately so that they can find the murderers and justice can be served. 

“Jacob,” Carl is speaking, “thank you for all your help. Thank you for trusting us with this,” he turns to me and I smile fleetingly. Turning back to Jacob he seems to gather himself together before speaking.

“Jacob, you may go now. Adam does not need you anymore. He can deal with this problem on his own. You have served your purpose.” Jacob nods and heaves an enormous sigh as though he has been waiting his whole life for this moment, which, come to think of it, he probably has. 

“Jacob,” I interject, and Carl glances across at me worry etched on his brow. I raise my hand to assure him that I know what I am doing. “Jacob, do you remember Fergus?” I ask and Jacob nods almost immediately.

“Yes, Paige, of course I do. He keeps me company.”  

Tears well in my eyes and I bite my lip to stop from crying. 

“Well, Jacob,” I continue, keeping my voice as normal as possible, “I think you should keep him.” There is an audible gasp from the couch and I know I have done the right thing. “He told me he really likes it with you so I think he would like to stay there,” I finish and Jacob beams.

“I’ll take good care of him, Paige.”
“I know you will,” I answer.

“Paige?” he asks.

“Yes, Jacob?”

“I’m going to miss you.” I am almost unable to keep it together but I clench my teeth and dig my nails so deeply into the palm of my hands that I almost draw blood.

“I’m going to miss you too, Jacob.” I give in to a silent sob and Carl Sheldon, sensing that our goodbyes are over, addresses Adam directly.

“Adam, you now know the truth. You know what happened that caused your personality to dissociate, that caused the emergence of
the
alters
that you know as Kyle, Simon and Jacob,” he pauses, and Adam nods. “You are more prepared now to deal with these traumas. There are other mechanisms available to you, you do not need these
alters
anymore. Do you understand?” 

“I understand,” Adam answers confidently.

“And do you agree, Adam?” the doctor asks and Adam grins.

“Absolutely,” he answers, sounding strong and certain and I know, finally, that everything is going to be okay.

Adam and the doc are saying their farewells and I leave them to it, heading for the car. I think they need a moment alone; they have been working towards this moment since long before I came along and I cannot imagine how they must feel. I will have my moment with Adam later – we will have thousands of moments – we will have a lifetime. I hug myself, giddy at the mere thought. A lifetime with Adam, just Adam. It is almost too much to comprehend. I wonder idly if I should report the murder of Adam’s parents to the police or if Carl will do it as part of his report. I forgot to ask him. I’ll phone him in the morning. We'll still be having our weekly sessions until Adam has dealt with the post-traumatic stress that will arise from his finally learning the truth, but the next session is not until next Tuesday. 

As I'm thinking this my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and, to my surprise, it is Bill Morris.
Again. I glance at the digital clock on the phone and it is almost 10 o’clock – 3 p.m. his time.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Ms Petrova? Bill Morris,” he barks into the phone, and then, without waiting for my response, he adds, “I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.”

I suddenly see Adam approaching, a broad grin stretched across his handsome face. 

“Hold on, please,” I hiss into the phone and then I hold it against my jacket.

“I think you and I should get home and do some cuddling,” Adam crows, smacking my backside. I smile at him, kissing his mouth and then I indicate the phone.

“Just give me a minute, babe.” I take a few steps away and then raise the phone to my ear.

“Yes, Mr Morris what is it?” I ask.

“I was right,” he announces, getting straight to the point. There is no hint of arrogance in his tone; he is very professional. “They did bring the boy over from Ireland. I’m afraid all evidence suggests that Raymond and Brigid Byrne may have murdered the boy’s parents.”

I give a gasp of astonishment. 

“How do you know that?”

“The Byrnes
were well-known members of an organisation called the Provisional Irish Republican Army. From 1969 until 1997, the provisional IRA conducted an armed campaign with the intention of ending British rule in Northern Ireland. They wanted to create a united Ireland.”

“Are you talking about the IRA, as in
the
IRA?” I interrupt, wondering what on earth this has got to do with Adam. I have a bad feeling building in the pit of my stomach that I cannot shake off.

“Similar, but not the same,” Bill Morris clarifies, “the Provisional IRA split from the Irish Republican Army in 1969, the reasons for which have no bearing on this case. The point is that they did; and in the
1980s the Provisionals made attempts to escalate the conflict with the English with the aid of weapons they imported from Libya. The English called this the 'terrorist phase' of the Provisional IRA’s campaign. Unfortunately many people were hurt and many were killed.”  Bill Morris gives me a moment to consider this.

“So Adam’s parents?
They were casualties of this 'terrorist phase'?" I ask, trying to make sense of it all.

“I believe so,” the investigator replies. “I found evidence that suggests your young man’s father may have been an informant, an Irishman working for the English. He and his wife were murdered. They were found dead in their Dublin home a few days before the boy was picked up in downtown
Manhattanville; a whole continent away.”

“How do you figure it was the Byrnes who did it?” I ask, curiously. Just then I notice Adam gesturing to me from next to the car. “Sorry, hang on a sec,” I tell Bill Morris and I make my way back to the Audi. I indicate that Adam should drive and I get into the passenger seat. We may as well be on our way; I can continue this conversation in the car.

“It’s the investigator,” I whisper. “He has information.” Adam nods to indicate that he understands that I need to pay attention. He amazes me; I would never have such restraint.

“Sorry about that,” I say as soon as I have buckled my seat-belt, “please continue; why do you think the Byrnes
are involved?”

“Raymond and
Brigid were well-known activists in the IRA. They were eventually caught and imprisoned for life on eight counts of murder and four counts of attempted murder among other charges. It was also the boy that gave them away. The Byrnes never had any children – they must have taken the boy from the house that night.” I feel a pang of satisfaction that at least Adam’s parents' killers were brought to justice and are paying for their crimes. It will mean one less thing for Adam to deal with.

“Why did nobody put it together? Why was there no missing person's report?” I ask, still not entirely following. Why had Adam not been returned to Ireland when he was found? Why had no-one gone looking for the young boy? 

“Well,” for the first time Bill Morris sounds slightly uncomfortable, the boy’s parents were not on speaking terms with their relative families. He was an only child and his parents were deceased. Her family didn’t approve of the marriage and had not spoken to her since her wedding. They didn't know of the child’s existence. I managed to track down one of her sisters who admitted, eventually, that she had once glimpsed the child in a supermarket. She had not known for sure, but had assumed that the boy was her nephew. When her sister and her husband turned up dead and no mention was made of the boy, she assumed she had been mistaken. She did not want to bring it up for fear of her father’s ire. He had a violent temper, one of the reasons that his daughter had cut all ties with the family.”

There is another pause and I try to piece the puzzle together. So Adam’s mother had never told her family of his existence and his father had no family to tell. When they were murdered, nobody even knew to look for him, although clearly there must have been an oversight by the authorities as there ought to have been some evidence that a child had been residing in the house. In the meantime, however, his parents' murderers had taken him and fled to the States where they abandoned him after only a few days.

“Why did they take him?” I whisper, almost to myself.

“She wanted children,” the answer, to my surprise, comes not from the phone, but from Adam sitting beside me. 

“What?” I hiss, feeling like I may just have entered the twilight zone.

“The woman wanted a child,” he continues, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “I remember now, remember?” He smiles sadly and it dawns on me that Adam now has his memories back. I can’t believe this is only dawning on me now. “She insisted they take me. She wanted us to be a happy family,” Adam shakes his head in disgust. “Anyway, she soon realised that I wouldn’t play along. The man started getting angry; it culminated in a fight. I never saw them again.”

Okay. So they killed Adam’s parents; brought him to the States and then abandoned him. It is starting to make more sense and I take a deep breath, one hand on Adam’s leg.

“Thank you, Mr Morris you’ve been an amazing help,” I say politely.

“Just doing my job,” he replies stereotypically and I fight the urge to laugh. I am about to cut the call when he barks, “I have her number if you'd like it. She asked to see him.”

“Who?”
I ask, not having a clue who he is talking about.

“Her name is
Elinor; she’s Mr Harris’s aunt.”

“
Elinor?” I repeat, not realising exactly what he has said until a moment later.
Harris
.

“Wait a minute - you must have the wrong information, Adam’s surname isn’t...” I trail off, a sick feeling in my stomach. The investigator continues, blissfully unaware of the hornet’s nest he has just stirred up.

“I thought as much. I’m afraid the Byrnes must have given your young man a new name when they arrived in the States. The boy must have remembered it. But I managed to get a copy of the birth certificate. James and Judith Harris had a baby boy on the 8
th
of June 1985. A boy they named Simon.”  

Chapter 26

All the while Bill Morris was talking I did not take my eyes off Adam. It was the name
Elinor that finally did it. I see the twitch and a moment later Simon is staring back at me, his dislike glimmering in his blue eyes which are as cold as steel.  

“Yes,
Elinor!” he hisses, through clenched teeth, “
My
Aunt! I
told
you!” He is staring at me, paying no attention to the road and I am too astounded and shocked to realise the danger we are in. And then chaos erupts.

I am still trying to process what Bill Morris has just said when our car swerves off the road. Doctor Sheldon had always warned us that Adam should not drive – it could be very dangerous in the event of a personality switch while behind the wheel. The disorientation could result in an accident. I had not even considered this when I asked Adam to drive – by all accounts, there should not be any personalities left to switch. I barely have a moment to register that Simon has lost control of the car when we slam into a tree headfirst and everything mercifully goes black. 

“I told you! I told you!” Simon’s face hovers in front of me, his smug look makes me want to slap him but I can’t move my hands. I glance down and see they are strapped to the metal sides of the hospital bed I am lying on. My legs are also restrained. Carl Sheldon walks in and, glancing down at me, he shakes his head, filling a syringe with amber liquid.

“What are you doing?” I yell, as Simon continues his relentless tirade. 

“I told her! I told her! She just wouldn’t listen!” he roars and my vision blurs. Carl clicks his tongue, casting a disapproving glance in my direction before plunging the needle into my thigh.  I scream in pain and shock and to my utter disbelief he shakes his head at me.

“You should have told me Paige,” he rebukes.

“I didn’t know!” I shriek, thrashing frantically against the restraints. “How could I have known?  You didn’t even know! Carl! Carl! What are you doing?” He doesn’t answer and I can feel the drugs taking effect, everything is going hazy, and then, suddenly, the dream is gone and I can hear someone calling my name. 

“Paige,” the voice is soft and feminine and slightly familiar. I fight the urge to go back to sleep and I force my eyes open. They flutter and I groan as a stab of pain explodes in my temple. The dream was so vivid I feel sick and I find that I'm rubbing my thigh in the place where the imaginary injection stabbed my skin even though it wasn’t real.

“Ow,” I moan. On my second attempt I manage to open my eyes long enough to see who is standing over me. Lizzy. What is Lizzy doing here? Then suddenly I remember.
Oh God!
   Adam! Adam doesn’t exist. He never did. Everything I have been trying to accomplish has been in vain. I have been fighting for a man who was never real to begin with. In my head I am screaming, the agony of the pain is like nothing I have ever experienced and I am honestly afraid that I might lose my mind. I don’t think the human body can withstand this torture and I experience a very real terror that I might just die of a broken heart. With all these thoughts running through my head and Lizzy rubbing my arm and whispering, “Paige, Paige?” I give way to the darkness that has been licking at the fringes of my consciousness and I drift away into the sweet, black nothing.             

I drift in and out of consciousness, slowly becoming more and more aware and what strikes me most of all is that
Lizzy is always here every time I open my eyes. I do not think much time has passed but there is eventually no point in delaying any longer what I know I must do. 

“
Lizzy,” I croak and she smiles.

“Paige!” she gushes, sounding relieved.

“Where’s...” I trail off, not able to speak his name but Lizzy understands immediately.

“He’s fine. He’s having a few X-rays. They almost couldn’t convince him to go; he was determined not to leave your side.”

That doesn’t make any sense; Simon hates me. There is no way he would sacrifice his own well-being to ensure that I was okay. Which can only mean...Oh!
She doesn’t know
. 

“What are you doing here,
Lizzy?” I ask, and her cheeks redden. She tucks a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear. 

“I’m sorry,” she admits sheepishly. “I know I shouldn’t have come, but when he called, he just sounded so desperate...” She trails off biting her lip. “It’s still so hard to accept,” she continues, and I know exactly how she feels.

“Simon called you?” I ask and she nods.

“From your phone, right after it happened. When he said there had been an accident I couldn’t stay away. I’m sorry, Paige, I was just so worried.”

I don’t answer. I have no right to admonish her, the tables are completely turned only she doesn’t know it. Lizzy is so nervous; she cannot seem to handle the silence and she continues hastily.

“By the time I got here Adam was back. He hit his head pretty hard in the crash; he was going
beserk trying to reach you. They had to sedate him eventually,” she smiles wistfully, and I feel tears well in my eyes; just thinking of Adam hurts. I think irrationally of my mother and her warning – she had been so worried that I wouldn’t survive this. I think she may have been right.  The thought of letting Adam go is more than I can possibly bear. 

In times of crisis the body’s natural reaction is to do one of two things; fight or flight. I need to do what is necessary to protect my fragile heart and the delicate grip I have on my sanity.  I take in
Lizzy’s heart-shaped face and her big blue eyes and I draw in a deep breath. 

“
Lizzy,” I begin, shutting off my guilt, “Lizzy, you need to go. It’s not right that you're here; you know that. You need to stay as far away from Adam as possible and let him live his life.”

Her eyes brim with unshed tears and she nods her head bravely but before she can speak I continue. “Adam is getting better. Simon will be gone soon but you being here could confuse him. You have to go,” I repeat firmly, leaving no room for argument. Not that
Lizzy would ever argue – she is far too soft, and, apparently, a far better person than I am.

“I wish you all the best,” she murmurs, smiling gently through her tears. “I really am sorry for the trouble I may have caused you.
Both of you.” She stands, stumbling slightly in her haste to pick up her bag and coat, and then, with a brief wave, she is gone.

I do not wait a moment; I leap from the bed ignoring the blinding pain in my head and, finding my clothes in the bedside cupboard, I pull them on hastily. As I am pulling my hair up into a ponytail a nurse rushes in.

“And just what do you think you are doing?” she squawks, taking in my fully dressed state.

“I’m leaving,” I announce, grabbing my bag from the top shelf.

“You can’t leave.” Hers is the voice of authority, “The doctor hasn’t discharged you yet.”

“Sorry. No can do,” I stand my ground turning to face her. “I’m out of here.” Without
so much as a backward glance I push past her and out into the hallway. I need to find Adam. I head for the main reception area and follow the signs to Radiology. I hear the flustered nurse behind me, her heels clicking on the clinically white-tiled floors, calling after me. I ignore her, my adrenalin pumping hard and fast through my entire body. All of my senses are heightened and I feel like a criminal.
One foot in front of the other Paige, one step at a time
, I tell myself, wondering if I have finally lost my mind.
What am I doing
? I take the stairs two at a time and finally leave the outraged nurse behind, feeling very grateful that I am wearing sneakers. 

My mind is running riot with all the information that I have learned. Simon. It was Simon all along. I am trying to understand what this all means. Obviously, as early as the day he arrived at the orphanage Simon had already dissociated. Probably even before that, as it is Adam’s memory of the Byrnes wanting a child, which happened only a few short days after Simon’s parents were killed. When Adam gave the orphanage his name Simon had already retreated from the life that he could not bear to deal with. The orphanage would never have thought to question and, by the time they realised that there was more than one personality, they would have already accepted that Adam was the original. Why would they think any differently?  Carl Sheldon had been treating Adam for almost two years and even he had not realised this colossal mistake. But why is Adam so dominant? Why is he so present? Is Simon really so weak-willed? I wish I could ask Carl how this is possible, but I cannot tell him. I can’t. I cannot bear to think of what this means. I don’t think I can survive the consequences of the truth. I have lost so much, I can’t lose any more. I won’t lose Adam; he is all I have left. I still cannot really grasp it.  It is unimaginable and even trying to comprehend what this means results in my heart racing and a feeling of nausea and dizziness threatens to overcome me.

At the radiology reception counter I will myself to calm down and I take a few deep, steadying breaths before I put on my most dazzling smile.

“Can I help you, love?” The matronly-looking nurse behind the counter smiles back.

“Yes please I’m looking for my boyfriend, Adam Parker?” The concern in my voice is obvious and she smiles kindly.

“Don’t fret, dear, he’s fine. They're finished; he’s just filling out some forms and then he's free to go.”

I heave a sigh; at least I don’t have to worry about both of us being hunted down in the hospital for discharging ourselves without doctor’s consent and I don’t want to alarm Adam or arouse his suspicion. 

“Paige!” I hear his voice behind me and I whirl around, my heart leaping at the sight of him. He looks exactly the same, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners in delight at seeing me and his black hair all mussed up. I wonder why I had expected him to look different. I rush into his open arms and I breathe in his familiar scent. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, holding me at arm’s length and looking me up and down as though he is conducting a thorough inspection.

“I’m fine,” I wave away his concern. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re allowed to go?” he sounds incredulous and I cringe. Adam and I do not lie to one another but at this point I have no choice.

“Yes!” I force myself to sound light-hearted but Adam knows me too well and his eyes narrow suspiciously.

“What’s going on, Paige?”

“Nothing!”
I shake my head nonchalantly as though I have no idea what he is talking about, praying that he buys my act. “What do you mean?”

He regards me doubtfully for a moment and then his features relax and he throws his arm around my shoulders. 

“Nothing, babe, sorry,” he waves cheerily to the nurse behind the counter who gives us a knowing smile and waves back. We take the elevator down to the main reception and I spend the short trip down praying that the determined nurse is not waiting to pounce as soon as the doors open.  

I’m in luck; no-one stops us as we head out of the automated doors and into the parking-lot.

“The car’s not too bad but we won’t get it back for at least a week,” Adam comments as we head for the street but I'm not paying too much attention. It doesn’t take too long to hail a cab and I begin to relax slightly, as we get further and further away from the hospital.

“What happened, Paige?” Adam asks suddenly and I turn to look at him, taking in every detail of his exquisite face.
I will not lose him
I promise myself
.

“What do you mean?” I ask, feigning innocence.

“The accident?” he prompts.

“Oh!” I shake my head, brushing aside his concern, “it was an accident, Adam, these things happen. We’re fine.”

“But I had a blackout. I figured one of the
alters
was back?” he muses. I contemplate this for only a fraction of a second and then the lies pour out of my mouth.

“You figured right, babe; it was Simon. I spoke to Carl while you were in Radiology and he said that sometimes there may be some lingering of
alters
after the reliving of the trauma; the stress of uncovering the truth sometimes stirs things up a bit, but he also says that although the result might not always be instantaneous, it shouldn’t take long for things to settle down and for Simon to integrate.” I beam up at him encouragingly and, to my disbelief, he nods his head, seemingly unconcerned.

“Well,” he smiles tiredly, “we’ve waited this long I guess we can afford to wait a few more days.”

“Exactly!” I proclaim, relieved that he has so easily believed my feeble story. I feel my face flush red with shame but I turn to gaze out of the window, my mind racing, trying to come up with a plan to save Adam; to save myself.

“But Paige,” he adds, sounding serious and I reluctantly turn back to face him. To my surprise he is grinning, “I think maybe you should do the driving from now on.” He winks, and I laugh, my laughter sounding forced even to my own ears, but Adam pulls my head onto his shoulder, affectionately ruffling my hair. I listen to the steady drum of his heart beating and I try to justify what I’m about to do.