Reaching For Remembering

Oh. Oh God. What was I doing last night? Not sure I remember fully, but I feel like I had one hell of a time.

Coffee. Mmm, whatever went on last night, I know it felt good. I feel so alive this morning, so ready for, well, anything.

Must have had loads to drink; can’t remember though, and I’ve no hangover to speak of, just…

Gaps.

Gaps in my memory, but I’m sure if I give it time it’ll come back to me.

I go out onto the back step, breathe in the late morning air. Or maybe it’s early afternoon air. In, out. Oh, that feels good. Good to be alive and part of this world. I need to get out, but not sure where to go yet. Leave that for later. But first, shower and dress. No hurry today, nowhere special to go. 

Mum and dad are at work, so they can’t complain about how much hot water I use. So, spend time in the shower, just standing, enjoying the hot water as it cascades down. Casual dress, jeans, t-shirt. Best check my phone, see if there’s any messages, though I’m not expecting any. Unless it’s mum asking me to do something.

But yes, there’s one. From Caitlin. Just says ‘Hi’.

Caitlin? Oh yes. Caitlin. I was with Caitlin last night, wasn’t I. Wow. I remember being with Caitlin, elfin features, ice blue eyes, short hair the colour of a glass of burgundy. Must have given her my number at some point. I text ‘Hi’ back.

Yes, met Caitlin about a month ago in a club. Must admit I got wrecked that night, felt zoned out for a couple of days. Didn’t expect to see her again, and although she was hot, I was always going to associate her with feeling like death. But then last night in our local, there she was. Can’t remember much else past that.

Oh, got a text back. ‘Park? 6ish?’ Wow, whatever I did or didn’t do last night, looks like she wants to see me again. I text back quickly. ‘K’.

Fragments are coming back now. We went to St Bart’s park last night. Why did we go there? It’s not on the way back from the pub. Maybe she just wanted us to be alone. Whatever. I’ll be going stone cold sober this evening. This time, I want to remember my evening with Caitlin.

I slum around for the rest of the afternoon, eating, gaming, seeing if anything else about last night comes back. They don’t.

She didn’t say what part of the park, but if we were up to anything, I bet it was the wooded end. It’s half an hour to get to the park, another ten minutes to get to the wooded end, though nearer twenty if I go around the lake first. It’s just gone five now, so I put on my trainers and jacket and head on out. Don’t want to keep the girl waiting and walking through the park might fill in some of those gaps.

Walking along I can see the spring flowers in the gardens. Don’t pay them much notice usually, but feeling like I do today, I start to name them in my mind. Hellebores, anemones, daffodils. No, not daffodils, narcissi. I remember my grandma teaching me the names of flowers in her garden. A daffodil is a narcissus, she used to say, but a narcissus is not a daffodil. When I didn’t get it, she’d say a Jason is a boy, but a boy isn’t necessarily a Jason. Wonder what she would have made of Caitlin? Strumpet probably. Very judgmental was grandma unless you were one of her own. 

Mind you, I don’t know much about Caitlin really, do I? My opinion is based on two chance meetings, one of which made me ill, the other I’ve largely forgotten. Except that it was good. Well, it was more than good. It was – well I can’t say unforgettable, can I, because I’ve forgotten most of it.

That’s a point. First time I meet her I’m ill, second time I can’t remember much at all. Has she drugged me? Has she slipped something into my drink? For the first time, I’m not altogether sure about this.

A blackbird giving it some in my ear brings me back to the here and now. Don’t be stupid. You just drank more than you should’ve last night, that’s all. Wouldn’t be the first time, and you never could hold your drink. 

Except there was no hangover today, only this – what do the French call it? – this joie de vivre, this euphoria.

Don’t be stupid, enjoy the blackbirds, the robins, the sparrows that chatter in the hedges. Your grandma taught you about birds and birdsong, too. Forget about that for now, think about Caitlin. You can get to know her better sober, then you can judge her properly. And if you want to know if she drugged you, just ask. In a joking kind of way. Or just say something, like apologise for being drunk last night, say you don’t normally drink that much, and you certainly don’t do drugs. Watch her, see what she says.

There’s the park. Just gone 5:30. Can’t see her at this end, but there’s plenty of time to do a full circuit before we’re due to meet. I can always text her closer to the time if I can’t find her.

There’s Christine, lives next door but one, walking that daft dog of hers. Or rather the dog seems to be walking her tonight. Seems particularly eager to be somewhere. I say ‘Hi’ out of politeness though I’m happy that the dog drags her off in the direction of the wooded end. If she sees me with Caitlin, she’ll no doubt tell mum. So what? I’m not a kid anymore, and mum’s always asking if I’ve got a girlfriend yet. Maybe with Caitlin I’ll be able to say ‘Yes’.

Small kids playing on the swings, the roundabout, parents catching up while they keep an eye out. Bigger kids on the climbing net. Even bigger kids hanging around, probably hoping the smaller ones will be taken home so they can have a quick go on the slide before they get too old, eking out childhood as long as possible. It’s what I used to do.

There’s the lake. Wonder if there’s any frog spawn yet? Or is it too early? We have had a few warm days recently, so you never know. Mind you, with all these water birds, I doubt much would get to froghood, but you do get a few bits, where it’s shallow and too overgrown and thorny for the birds to get.

What’s that? Someone’s screaming. Over there, right over the far side, towards the wooded end. Probably some kids mucking about. Hmm, now there’s a few people rushing around. Someone taken ill perhaps. Better stay out of it, whatever it is. Just saunter along quietly, look for Caitlin. After all, I wouldn’t know what to do, and it’s rude to just stand there and do nothing, isn’t it, especially if someone else has already sorted it.

Wow, there’s some cygnets. They’re early. I remember when I was small, Billy and I used to come down here to play. We couldn’t say cygnets, so we used to call them Cyrils. We couldn’t understand why every baby swan was called Cyril. After all, if every boy is not a Jason, why is every baby swan a Cyril? I asked grandma once, but she just laughed.

We used to like looking at the coots too. Such ridiculous feet, we thought. We used to wonder whose grandma had knitted them. We used to argue over whose grandma could knit the best coot’s feet.

Hello, there’s sirens. Maybe it is someone collapsed after all. Must be serious for an ambulance to get here this fast. Oh, it’s not an ambulance. It’s the cops. What’s going on? Two squad cars, no three? What the hell is going on?

There’s a cop at the playground, talking to the parents, to the older kids without parents. What’s he saying? 

The playground is emptying, crying kids are being dragged off the swings, the older kids want to stay, but the cops are sending them off. Dog walkers. They’re talking to dog walkers now. Is that Christine? Can’t see from here, but colour of the coat is right. Cops are keeping her back. What’s she done? 

Or what has she found?

Caitlin. Oh my God, Caitlin. Has something happened to her? I start to hurry round the lake, I need to check that whatever it is, whatever has happened, I need to know that Caitlin’s okay. 

And just as I’m about to get to the police, there she is in front of me. She has a wicked, mischievous grin on her face. Says ‘Hi’. Asks if I remember last night, asked if I enjoyed it. And as I look into her eyes, those ice blue eyes that still retain a trace of full moon yellow, I begin to remember everything from last night.