Et tú, Clarissa?

Chapter four

Present Day (England, Britain)

The pouring rain had already made us soaking wet as we reached the little log cottage far into the woods. A rumbling thunder rolls over the forest and Zac has to seal the door with a big beam so that the wind will not blow it wide open.

"Where did this storm come from?" he mumbles and hurries to the fireplace to start a fire.

But the firewood is wet from all the rain coming down the chimney and is almost impossible to start a fire with. He swears as he cuts up a wound on his palm because of the sharp sticks. I feel how he is freezing and I walk over to him. As I place my hand on his shoulder, he stops shiver and looks up at me like I have just made him stop freezing.

"Let me have a try," I say and he moves from in front of the fireplace and stands behind me as I easily get the fire going.

Quick as a weasel, he is in front of the fire to warm himself. I do not get it. It is not that cold.

"I would recommend that you get rid of those clothes if you want to get warm," I tell him. "As long as you have wet clothes, you will not get warm as fast as with a pair of dry ones. And allow me to take a look at that wound."

I take his pale hand that is close to blue to colour because of the cold. Thanks to that, it does not bleed too much and I just clean the wound before winding it practised like I have done the exact thing a hundred times before. He looks at me in confusion.

"How aren't you freezing your arse off? It's incredibly cold outside."

I shrug. How I am not freezing is the least of my worries. What the man said to Doctor Armstrong back at the hospital frightens me.

How is it that no one knows me? I must have someone, must I not? And if I have not, what may that say about me? Am I on the run from something? Do I have a family, friends? How am I supposed to get my memory back if there is no one who can help me?

Zac looks quizzically at me lost in thoughts.

"Okaaay," he stands up and walks over to a door. "I'm gonna change into something dry. There are some clothes in the top drawer in the bureau under the TV if you want."

I tear my fixed gaze of the fire and look at him wonderingly. He just sighs.

"Perfect. I'm a babysitter now too," he mumbles before he closes the door.

I sit in the leather brown sofa and look out over the white landscape covered in a thick snow duvet what slightly gets deeper for each snowflake falling slowly down. It almost looks like the bewitching flakes float in the air because it takes such a time for them to reach the ground. The frost and ice have spread over the whole cottage making the door and the windows impossible to open even if the snow had not laid like a stop outside each of them. I have a feeling it will not exactly please Zac, who I have not seen since I lit the fire last night. He has stayed in his room the whole night, but I do not mind. He seemed rather mad yesterday of the feeling of having to take care of me, but I had no intention to make him feel that way. I just want my memory back. That is all. The last thing I want is to make someone else's life difficult because of my most inconvenient state of mind.

Suddenly I hear the door open and see a familiar face looking out the door. I look at him from across the small room and then out of the window again. He mumbles something before walking over the floor to the thin wooden door at my left.

"That will not work," I say to him low without taking my eyes off the metre-thick layer of untouched snow outside the window. "It will take a miracle if you want to come out before the snow melts. A bit at least."

I feel his eyes on my skin as he stares at me just like he wondered where I got permission to talk. I roll my eyes as he walks over to the fireplace to stock up some more firewood.

"So, what are you saying? We're stuck together like this till the snow melts? This weather is not normal. It can take the whole winter!"

I shrug.

"I don't know. I do not remember anything if you recall. I just have a feeling that you will not make it to the town before you freeze to death with the clothes we have in this kind of snow."

"We can't wait till the snow melts! The firewood and food will be long gone by then," he takes up something from his pocket. "I'm calling someone."

But he is abruptly interrupted.

"No reception? Seriously?"

"Try the house's."

"Please. It's the 21th century. Who has a home phone?"

My eyes widen as I place my hands at my ears.

"Sorry."

Zac mumbles something about how the cables must be down by all snow as he tries to turn on the light, but does not even succeed with getting one bulb to work. His eyes go through the room and suddenly he seems to discover that the cottage is actually warm and all our clothes are dried.

"Have you been up all night to keep the fire alive?"

"You seemed quite cold and tired so I presumed someone had to," I continue drawing with my finger in the dust on the windowsill without looking at him. "But you are right about something. We do need more wood."

I hear him exhale behind me, but I am not really sure it was met to be a sigh or just a sound telling me that he gives up.

"I can try to get out and fetch some as soon as it has stopped snowing," he says almost as to himself.

As I look at the strange lines in the dust and move my fingers over the stone at the end of my necklace, everything around me changes and the wooden windowsill becomes a still, glassy pond. Back at me stares a little girl with that blonde, nearly white hair and pale skin with blue-green eyes like shining stars in the night sky.