Dead Again Page #6

full of new people|and wonderful surprises.

But there was|another surprise to come.

Roman.

I've never seen anything like this.

It's beautiful.|I don't know what to say.

- "Thank you" is always good.|- Thank you.

No, it's not a bracelet, darling.

It's an anklet,|a very special anklet.

Let's have your leg.

It's very old. The man|I bought it from explained to me

that when a husband gives this|to his wife,

they become...

two halves of the same person.

Nothing can separate them.

Not even death.

So we're stuck with each other.

Either that, or I've|overpaid terribly for the thing.

Three, two, one.

A little hot in here.

Mother, could you open|a window for us, please?

This isn't as uncommon|as you might think.

A colleague in San Francisco...

May I have a glass of water?

You really have found your tongue.|Wonderful.

- Do you know your name?|- Give her time.

Do you remember anything|about the people you talked about?

- Are they still alive?|- I'd like to show you something.

June 1949.

That was Roman Strauss,|that was his wife Margaret,

and that was their home.

Handsome man, wasn't he? Not at all|the sort who'd murder his wife.

Yes. He stabbed her in the throat

with a lovely pair of antique|Die Schere barber scissors.

Die Schere... Disher.

They were auctioned at Christie's|last year for 20,000

by a Japanese gentleman,|if memory serves.

They seemed so in love.

They're usually the people|that kill each other.

Could she have dreamed this|or read about them?

No. I got clarity far beyond what one|would pick up from reading.

- They look alike. It means nothing.|- Mr Church.

- I don't believe she was there.|- It doesn't matter.

For whatever reason,|these events are consuming her.

The sooner we work through them, the|sooner she'll get her memory back.

Tomorrow I have a Friar's luncheon|at twelve.

- How's 4:
00 tomorrow sound?|- Yes. Thank you very much.

My pleasure.

- Mr Church.|- Yeah?

The magazine. It's $1 7.95.

You OK? Is there anything|you need right now?

You mean besides my memory?

OK. I can't get used|to the sound of your voice.

It's like one day you wake up|and your cat talks to you.

It's just you've been so quiet|the last couple of days and...

Never mind.|I didn't speak. Forget it.

Mr Church.

- Mike.|- Why are you helping me?

I don't know. You smell good.

Maybe I feel sorry for you.|Maybe I like you.

Maybe I just want to hear|how that story you told ends.

But you don't believe any of that.

I believe you experienced|something weird.

I'm not convinced it means|what he says.

- You think I'm crazy?|- I think we need a second opinion.

- What do you think happened?|- Sounds like a past-life experience.

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