The Way Back
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2015 by Always Raining

Mystery Sex Story: Chapter 7 - When Allan Jonsson came out of the coma, he had to start from scratch with a badly battered head and body, beginning with remembering who he was. It was to be a long journey of discovery: reclaiming his previous life and seeking answers to how and why he was nearly murdered.

Caution: This Mystery Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Slow  

Friday morning dawned sunny and crisp, a beautiful March morning, even though it was mid-February. I stood at the window and watched the traffic on the main road as it stopped, started and crawled by in a parody of the phrase 'rush hour'.

It suddenly (all my new memories seemed to come suddenly) came to me. There was a picture in my mind of a little boy of five or six years old waiting for a bus on that road. Then a picture of the school. Yes, I travelled at that age alone on two buses to a school in Chorlton. I smiled at the memory.

I had thick soup in a flask for lunch at school. Why that memory?

The more memories that followed on from these, the broader my smile became.

"You're looking cheerful!" said David as he walked in.

"Memories, David, memories! Childhood ones," I added seeing hope dawn in his eyes.

"But every little helps," I added again as I saw his disappointment. "They're coming back!"

We went to his office. Getting up those stairs was becoming easier.

The first thing he did was to hand me my driving license. There followed a long series of form filling and swearing oaths. In view of the impending court case about the financial settlement and involving the Power of Attorney, he invited me to write a letter to him explaining I was now able to take care of my own affairs, but wanted him to continue for the time being. Also I could say I could attend court if necessary, but that I appointed David to represent me. David would submit the evidence that I was who I was, and that my new signature was genuine. He dictated the letter to his secretary and I signed it,

We went to my bank where I was introduced to the manager and filled in more forms, then a drive into Manchester and meetings with my stockbroker. Finally we went back to David's office, and I changed my will to exclude Ann but include the children in trust up to age twenty-five. David went over the legalities of our company, and gave me a written summary of it all.

Then there was the paperwork concerning the Cherry Tree Lane house, and the authorisation of the transfer of funds which would make the house mine and mine alone. I noted the condition that everything in the house, contents as well as fixtures and fittings would be left. It turned out David had got a surveyor to make an inventory of everything in the house. It had the appearance of a thick book, and apparently Ann had signed it off without a second glance. The inventory went to an interminable number of pages and like Ann, I wasn't interested in reading it.

"You'll find some very interesting things in the house," was all David said about the contents, but the smile assured me that the surprise would be pleasant.

He invited me once again for dinner, but my head was spinning from the day's activities and I needed to rest on my own for a while, and so gratefully refused his offer. He reminded me of our evening at the pub, and said he would collect me at seven thirty. I ate and slept.

Viv drove us to the pub and promised to pick us up afterwards, admonishing David not to let me drink too much since I was still taking pain killers for my legs, though I was now finding I did not need such a high dosage. She was like a mother hen with an errant chick.

I recognised Colin immediately. He was sitting in a corner with a pint in front of him and David brought me over to him before going to buy beer for us both. We exchanged pleasantries for a while, he asking what we'd been up to since we last met, but I sensed there was more to this meeting than a friendly night out. As it turned out I was right. Things would not be the same after this night. We had only been seated for a few minutes when another man joined us, carrying a pint. I vaguely recognised him.

He saw me and his mouth dropped open. "Allan?" he enquired after a long moment.

I nodded.

"Allan, this is Keith Cuthbertson," said David. "He's another good friend. Your company has supplied him with stuff. He's a Private Investigator."

I stood and shook his hand.

"You don't know me do you?" he said.

"No, Keith, I don't remember you, but my memory is coming back so I may soon."

"It's a bloody shame! God, they really went to town on you."

"Now to business," said David. He knew I didn't need more sympathy.

I cocked an eyebrow. Business?

"Colin?" David looked over at him.

Colin turned to me, with a serious expression. "Allan, the three of us have been talking about you and the attack on you. I've been in touch with Northumberland Police and had a very interesting conversation with them. Has anything struck you about your attack?"

"Well, the police were convinced that it wasn't a random mugging but a deliberate attack. They kept questioning me about whether I was involved in drug dealing or protection rackets. I couldn't remember my name, and they thought that I was lying about that. It wasn't pleasant. I was in continuous pain and they didn't let up with the questions; they kept coming back. I got quite a grilling."

"Have you thought of any reason why you should have ended up in Newcastle?" David asked.

"No, but all I can think is that I did meet a woman. Perhaps I'd had a relationship with her. That she lured me there, got me beaten up and stole everything from me."

"Well," said David. "I didn't want to bring this up when I first met you, but there are worrying facts you need to know."

"Go on."

"I told you that Derek Fanshaw had a PI check on you, and that he got pictures of you at York Station."

I nodded.

"Well," he continued, "there was a charge on your credit card for that Station. I got Keith here to check and he reckons that it would have covered two first class tickets to Newcastle."

"Oh," I said. I began to feel guilty. So I was a cheating husband and Ann had every right to take me to the cleaners and to marry Derek.

I was feeling ashamed. "I don't know what to say. I don't remember that day at all, so I can't very well deny it. All I can say is that I hate the idea of doing that to Ann after so many years. No wonder she hates me."

"The thing is," said Colin, "we can't believe it. You were so obviously deeply in love with Ann. We would pass comments about other women but you were never interested. You always wanted to get back home to her. You were always the first to leave when we met for a boys' night out. You never missed a single day to speak to her when you went away, even when you were globe-trotting on business you'd find a way to contact her. This was totally out of character."

"You can't get away from the facts, Colin," I said morosely. "You are a policeman. There's evidence."

"No," he replied. "Look at all the evidence. Why did you get beaten up?"

"And," added David, "those last transactions on the card. The card was stolen from you when you were mugged but never used. No one ever tried to steal your identity."

"Well..." I stopped. I couldn't answer those questions. I looked at the others for help.

"And why were you so comprehensively beaten? It couldn't have been for money, none was taken beyond what you had on you."

"One idea," suggested Keith. "He was with the woman, Alsvik, was it? And her husband or boyfriend caught them. That would account for the severity of the beating."

"But then, why steal everything from me including my clothes and leave me with nothing to identify me?"

"Perhaps the boyfriend/husband, whatever, thought he'd killed you," said Keith. "We've traced your movements quite easily now you've come back from the dead. If you were dead and unidentified eventually you'd be buried. End of story."

"So?" I asked. "Where does this leave us? Where are we going with this?"

"Well," said David. "I think it's important to try to find who did this to you and the real reason for it. What we've said is only a theory. We do know it can't have been a simple mugging. You were in the wrong place. We have some possible leads; I think we should try to follow them."

"I say again. So? If we want to follow this up, where do we start?" I asked.

I didn't know whether I really wanted to follow this up, especially if I was a cheating bastard, but on the other hand...

Keith was talking; Colin was nodding, "I think we try to find this Alsvik woman. If we can trace her, do you fancy going to Norway to talk to her, Allan? David, would you go? Allan may remember her."

"Alsvik sounds Swedish to me," I said and then stopped. "How did I think that?" I asked them. They laughed.

"You have a Swedish name Allan. You'll be tuned in to the sounds. We'll check your theory," said Colin, "Funny thing memory."

Once again it was Keith who came up with a new idea. "You said that Fanshaw had CCTV pics of the hotel and the railway booking office? Is it worth getting hold of them if Fanshaw's still got them? Allan might recognise her. The hotel in York may have her home address, they often keep registration details to send adverts to past patrons."

"Then why didn't the PI find it?" asked Colin. "I think they'd already deleted her record."

"Not thought of that," said Keith, deflated. "If that PI had any talent he would have tried to find the record. If all else fails it may be worth double checking."

"Well, let's divide the work," said David. "I'll get back to the PI I used in Sweden. You've just confirmed that the name was Swedish, and you'd know, being of Swedish extraction. I remember now looking up the name and finding it was Swedish. Well that'll save us some time. I'll get the Alsviks he turned up and get him to try phoning round. If I strike lucky we should go over there."

"I don't follow," I interjected. "You said this PI didn't find her. They would have known my name, surely they'd make a connection?"

"The PI was looking for you. He didn't approach the women. If you were having an affair it could have ruined her marriage, if she was married that is. I didn't want that. Also a PI sniffing round might have started some unfounded suspicions in husbands of innocent women. So I told him to look for you and you alone, using the Alsvik name. Colin, could you try to get that York PI's report from Fanshaw?"

"No problem, I'll tell them we're reviewing the missing person's file on behalf of the Yorkshire force. I can twist his arm if he gets difficult."

I looked around the table at these three men. What friends they were! Even though they might suspect I had been a real bastard to Ann, they still wanted me to find out who did this dreadful thing to me. I tried to stutter out my gratitude but they dismissed my attempts. They told me I had always been a good friend to them and had helped each of them financially on occasion.

"And," said Keith, "I still can't believe you would ever have done something like that to Ann. I'm keeping an open mind."

"As are we all," added Colin. David just smiled a satisfied smile.

The rest of the evening passed happily. Plenty of banter and poking fun at me telling me tall stories about my past, none of which I believed, and after Vivienne had dropped me off at my flat I fell into bed and slept soundly.

I awoke early the next morning. I had to remember it was Saturday, not because of my memory but because it was difficult keeping track of the days. There was little structure to my life and Saturday was no different from other days.

Saturday morning was a true winter's day with heavy rain and windy with it. I turned on the TV and watched the news channel for half an hour while I had my breakfast. It's a good way to get yourself thoroughly depressed. Then came a ring at the door. I opened it to a man I knew I should recognise. He was soaked.

"Hello?" I said. I must have looked puzzled.

"It's Geoff. From Work?" he ventured, then I knew him.

"Come in Geoff."

"I've brought you a few things," At his feet were three or four packages. "A laptop, and a scanner and printer. And something else." I helped him with the parcels.

I led him to the second bedroom where he began to set everything up.

"I'll get BT to connect the broadband," he said, "Their private house service is crap, but I'll get them under business use. Take a few days, I should think. Still, this laptop's got all the history of the company while you've been away: sales, accounts, research, special projects etc. Also photo's and CVs of all the staff, it may help you to memorise them."

 
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