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Author's Chapter Notes:
Damn! Forgot a chapter!

(Why is it always Chapter 3 or 4...?)

With a heavy heart, Jack put the receiver back onto its cradle, having just called the Sanatorium for an ambulance. When she had spoken about waiting for the Howards, who had stayed with the Russells more than thirty years ago, and the daughter, now Mrs. Hunter, was still living on the Sonnalpe, "making a pain of herself" as Jack was wont to put it, he had guessed that there might have been something wrong, but the clincher had been the answers he got from his questions.

He spared a sad thought for her at that point, no longer his darling, still sleeping her drugged sleep on the sitting-room sofa. He went back in to check on her. She lay there, her shimmering, jet-black hair loose and spread about her in a great dark halo. He wanted to bend over and kiss her rose-tinted cheek, or her ruby lips, but he knew that the nineteen-year-old Jo would hate him for that.

He turned and went instead to the nursery, to where his children had fled after his order to them to leave. The older children (this includes the ones who were young adults) had worked out what could be wrong with her, but none of them were sure, not even Reg, so younger siblings had not yet been filled in on this.

On Jack's arrival, Marcia ran forwards and flung her arms around his waist. She looked up at him earnestly.

"Is Joey alright?" she asked.

Jack sighed. "She has no bodily pain."

"But mentally?" asked Con nervously.

Jack sighed again and sat down on the nearest chair, lifting Marcia onto his lap. The little Russian girl put her arms around his neck comfortingly.

"Does anyone know what amnesia is?"

There was a dead silence. Cecil tentatively raised a hand, as though she were in a classroom. When Jack favoured her with a look, she replied.

"Isn'it when someone forgets loads of stuff - not like where their keys are-"

"Mamma forgets that all the time!" said Phil with a forced laugh, hoping to lighten the heavy mood, but the joke fell rather flat and only earned her a withering look from her father.

"-like who they are and stuff." finished Cecil as though she had not been interrupted.

Everyone looked stricken.

Jack nodded sadly. "They can also forget everything after a certain point in their life and awake convinced that they are still at that point."

Everyone leaned forward a little.

"While your mother has not forgotten who she is, she believes that she is nineteen and that she is waiting for the Howards to arrive. She claims that the two of us will be great friends with the daughter."

Everyone looked heartbroken.

"So...she doesn't remember us...like, at all?" asked Cecil, to whom the affection of her parents was what kept her going from day to day.

Jack shook his head. "I have 'phoned for an ambulance." was all he offered in reply.

All hope was lost for the Mob. Jack saw them all crumple, and reach for each other. Marcia was crying quietly, and he guessed that she was not alone.

It was at that point that the ambulance arrived to take the still unconscious Joey to the Sanatorium. It seemed sad to the Mob that Joey, whose spirit was almost indestructible, was to be taken off in such a manner, unable to cope.



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