The Secret of the Villa Mimosa Read Online Free PDF

them?”
    Phyl noted that she recognized the flowers, but she made no comment. She took a seat next to the bed and accepted the offer of a cup of tea from the nurse. “How’s your patient doing?” she asked, smiling her thanks.
    “Better than we expected last night, Doctor. You can see for yourself, she’s on the mend.”
    “Last night I was in a tunnel.” The girl looked at Phyl despairingly. “I thought maybe I was dead. It was so dark, terrifying. I couldn’t escape. And then I was falling, just falling and falling into an abyss, and I knew I would never come back—”
    “Well, now you are back, so you see, it was all just a bad dream.”
    “Phyl?” The girl met her eyes. “What happened to me?”
    Phyl hesitated, but she knew she had to deliver the truth. “It wasn’t just a dream. You did fall. Down a rocky ravine. Fortunately your fall was halted by the undergrowth. There were a lot of bushes. They saved you.”
    The girl looked down, puzzled. “Maybe that’s what Iremember then, the falling…. I’ve been thinking about things, trying to remember. And I can. I mean, I can remember things about San Francisco—buildings and the bridge. But I don’t remember where I live. I remember the taste of frozen yogurt and that I don’t like ice cream. I remember I like the color red, but not whether I have a red dress. I remember the scent of mimosa, but not where I’ve smelled it before. I remember you, from last night, and the nurses and the doctors, but I cannot recall a single person from my past.” She lifted huge frightened brown eyes to her and said, “What am I going to do?”
    Phyl patted her hand encouragingly. “Okay, now you listen to me. You are just a few hours out of a coma, only three weeks away from a major trauma and surgery. There’s no need for you to remember one damn thing right now, so stop worrying about it. Soon enough you’ll remember. Until then concentrate on smaller things. Think about books you might have read, music you enjoy, favorite paintings, the kinds of clothes you like to wear.”
    “I like what you are wearing.”
    Phyl laughed. It was Saturday, and she was in her off-duty uniform: black jeans, black suede loafers, white shirt, and black leather jacket.
    “Especially the belt. Is it from Tucson?”
    Phyl stared at her. The belt was Native American, black leather with a silver and turquoise buckle. “Santa Fe,” she said, pleased. “You recognized it.”
    “I suppose I did.” The girl looked surprised, and she laughed.
    “See, your memory is coming back already,” Phyl said comfortingly.
    “It just seems to be there,” the girl said. “Things pop out. Like the mimosa and the belt.”
    “That’s the way it goes. And speaking of going, I must be on my way. I don’t want to tire you out and undo all the good work.”
    “Phyl?”
    Phyl glanced inquiringly at her.
    “Why did you come to see me? If you don’t know me?”
    Phyl hesitated. She didn’t want to tell her about seeing her on television. But there was also another reason, one she didn’t choose to talk about to anyone. She said, “I was at the hospital when they brought you in. I was concerned about you. I’m a psychiatrist, and I work here, at the General, three days a week.”
    The girl smiled wryly. “A psychiatrist. Then I guess I’m in the right hands. You’ve got yourself another nutcase to straighten out, Doctor.” Her eyes widened in astonishment. “Dr. Phyl Forster,” she said. “It’s you. You’re famous.”
    “Well, look at that. You remembered.”
    “I did, too,” she replied, pleased with herself. “And there’s something else I’m sure I’ll never forget: the sight of your lovely face, smiling at me when I came out of that tunnel of despair.”
    Gratitude shone from her copper brown eyes and Phyl gulped back her emotion. “Glad I was there,” she said quietly. “See you later, young lady.”
    “Phyl?” The girl called her back as she was halfway out of the