Audrey and Brody had the perfect life. Then on the night of their first wedding anniversary and accident claimed Brody's memory of the past 6 years. He does't remember Audrey, and he doesn't remember their life together. If you can't remember your past, how well can you move into your future?
Adjusting the position of the plates on the table just so, Audrey stood back to survey the full effect. The candles were placed perfectly to provide just the right romantic light when lit, the table cloth perfectly pressed. From the kitchen the smell of roast beef, Brody’s favourite, was filling the house. On the bench vegetables were steaming in the steamer they had been given as a wedding present, exactly one year ago today. One perfect year, and tonight she had the perfect present for him, to celebrate. Everything was ready; all that was missing was her husband.
Audrey glanced at the clock again, to check the time. It was 5.33pm, and Brody should be home by now. He had never been late before, normally she was the one rushing in the door afterwards, having been kept back at work for one issue or another yet again. He was always home by 5.30, sometimes a little before and, knowing what today was, surely there was no way he’d allow anything to make him late.
Perhaps he got stuck in traffic, Audrey thought to herself, moving into the kitchen to turn the oven down, and turn off the steamer. There was no point over steaming the vegetables, or burning the rest of dinner just because something had delayed her husband. Determinedly she walked towards the front of the house, glancing out the window, hoping that she would see Brody’s beat up ford pull into the drive way any minute. With no sign of it, she reached for her pocket and pulled out her phone. There were no messages, no missed calls, and no voice mails, nothing to let her know just why her husband was late on such an important night.
Quickly bringing up the internet browser on her phone, she logged into facebook. There was the anniversary message he had left on the wall during his lunch break, and there was the status update, claiming he couldn’t wait to get home to see his beautiful wife and at his normal leaving time too. There was no reason why he wasn’t here now.
“It has to be the traffic” Audrey murmured to herself, before exiting the browser, and bringing up Brody’s mobile number. A quick phone call would reassure her that everything was alright, that he had merely been delayed by road works or an accident, and would be home shortly. Pressing the call button, she put the phone to her ear, getting more and more worried the longer it rang, before it finally cut into voice mail. Normally the sound of her husband’s cheery voice mail message made Audrey smile, but not today.
“Hey Brodes, its Audrey here. I’m getting a little worried as you’re not home yet. Hopefully it’s just traffic and you’ll be pulling up any minute. But if not, call me back as soon as you get this. I love you” she told the voice mail box, before hanging up and looking at the clock. It was now 5.47pm, and she was getting increasingly nervous. One more trip to the kitchen followed, where she turned the roast off, before sitting in front of the TV, hoping it would provide a little distraction from the worry that was currently eating her up alive.
Yet she couldn’t stop from glancing at the clock, not taking in a thing on the TV. When the 6 o clock news started, she got to her feet, pacing the living room and alternating glances between the clock and the driveway.
The sound of the house phone ringing caused her to jump a mile, before urgently she picked it up, her hands shaking. It couldn’t be Brody, he always called her mobile, and they had free calls between one another, being on the same network. She just knew that whatever this phone call was about, it would be bad news.
“Hello?” she asked, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.
“Hello is that Mrs Newman?” the man on the other end said.
“This is she,” replied Audrey, her hand rising to her throat as she listened to the words the man was telling her. “I’ll be right there,” she finally said, dropping the phone, grabbing her keys and handbag from beside the door and racing to the car. With a squeal of tires she was out of the driveway, and hurtling down the street, determined to get to the local hospital as fast as she possibly could.