The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2)

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The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) Page 3

by Field, Stacey


  “Great treehouse,” I said, climbing the ladder to the roof.

  “Yeah, if you like that kind of thing,” Russ threw back. “I hope you have a head for heights.”

  “I don’t mind them,” I said, dipping the brush into the dark liquid and trying hard not to appear smug.

  “You a roofer?”

  “No, I’m an English teacher, hence all the extra time I have.”

  “Ah, right.” Russ sounded surprised. “I assumed you were unemployed… thought I was doing you a favour by offering you work.”

  “You are. I appreciate the offer and I’m in need of some extra cash.” I looked down to see Russ nod as he acknowledged this. “I do have one question, though.”

  “Go on,” he said, concentrating on his brush strokes.

  “What makes you trust me, a stranger? How do you know I’m trustworthy?”

  “I don’t, I suppose. I just wanted to help you out and, well… there’s something about you that I trust. I know an honest man when I see one.”

  Apart from when it was applied to women, Ross’s confidence was usually justified. He was a good judge of character.

  “Plus, there are cameras all around the perimeter of this house. If you were up to no good. we’d soon know.”

  I thought about this last statement and wondered if anybody bothered to look at the twenty-four-hour footage taken from the garden boundaries. They might well hold vital information about the circumstances surrounding Lucy’s husband’s accident. I was also keen to find out whether the cameras were enough to protect her.

  We fell into a comfortable silence as we worked and my mind started to revisit old memories.

  The friendship between Russ and I had been rocky in the past due to us both competing for Lucy’s affections. Once he found out about Lucy and I our friendship turned sour. However, after our reconciliation in the ice cream parlour it began to regress into the easy, supportive relationship it once was. Although it was hard at first and required an effort by each of us, eventually we could all be in the same room without any awkwardness bubbling beneath the surface. I was respectful of my best friend and would not show affection for Lucy in his presence. She once brought this up in conversation and I told her I felt uncomfortable about showing my feelings for her in public; the issue was never raised again.

  Russ was determined to treat Lucy in the same teasing manner he had before she and I became a couple – she never noticed any change in his behaviour. However, I often saw the anguish beneath his friendly manner, when he thought no one was looking. Shortly after our reconciliation, Russ introduced Lucy and me to his new girlfriend: the light of his life, or so he would tell everyone. Erin was small with a short hairstyle that gave her a pixie-like appearance. Her bohemian looks often made her stand out in a crowd and her bubbly nature was infectious. Lucy warmed to her instantly.

  Erin was drawn to any activity considered high-risk, so when she told us she was having motorbike lessons neither of us was surprised. She was a free spirit, someone who lived life full on. I was fond of her and would often praise Russ on his choice of partner. He would insist that it wasn’t a matter of choice: Erin had stalked him until he eventually gave in. However, he appeared mesmerised by her wild-child demeanour and would spend all of his free time with her.

  Erin was a receptionist by day and the lead singer of an all-girl rock band named The Hissy Chicks by night. Russ would be found in the front row of every gig, whistling and bobbing his head to the music. It wasn’t long before he and Erin moved in together and I felt proud of the mature attitude my friend had finally developed.

  When they weren’t lost in each other’s loving gaze, the four of us would get together and enjoy road trips in the rain and picnics by the river. Lucy and Erin struck up a close friendship and would talk for hours about books, art and music. They attended an African drumming class at the village hall every week and Lucy would come home after it with a beaming smile on her face, laughing about Erin’s antics. Finally she had a female friend she could confide in and receive support from, and I couldn’t have been more relieved.

  Lucy was doing well considering her past problems with drugs during her last year of university. She hadn’t relapsed, and her anxiety medication had been decreased. She began to lean on Erin for support and seemed to feel great trust in her. Before long, Erin knew about every aspect of Lucy’s past and showered her with support and acceptance, something I knew Lucy secretly craved. Her friendship with Erin created a confidence in her that I could never have helped her achieve. She appeared content and comfortable with who she was, and the fact that she was confiding in Erin meant that some of Lucy’s troubles were offloaded and her relationship with me could revert to being a fun, light-hearted one.

  Basking in Erin’s unwavering affection, Lucy frowned less and smiled more. My treehouse business was becoming more popular and I was struggling to find staff who met my high standards. This meant the time I could spend with Lucy was reduced, so Russ would often check in on her in the evenings. She adored his company and it was plain that they spent most of those evenings together in fits of laughter and playful banter.

  After a while, Erin’s visits decreased until eventually they were non-existent. After some coaxing, Russ eventually admitted that their relationship had failed and she had moved out of the house they shared without leaving any forwarding address. When I asked, he said personality differences had caused the break up, but I always had the feeling it was something else.

  Shortly after Russ’s split from Erin I decided it was time to ask Lucy an important question. I knew that my plans to propose to her were coming at a tough time for Russ but my loyalty to him meant that he had to be the first to hear of my intentions. He took the news graciously, with little outward reaction, but I felt guilty, knowing I had caused my best friend pain and discomfort, even if he didn’t show it. A milestone in my life that should have been full of happiness and congratulations was instead riddled with guilt and anxiety.

  A few days before the planned proposal Russ and I spent a night camping in Kettlewell, a small village not far from Burnsall that was known for its pleasant fishing spots. There was awkwardness in the air at first. Looking back, I suspect we were both afraid of saying the wrong thing. I broke the ice by asking him if he had seen much of Erin. He told me she had moved to London with her band in the hope of attaining a record deal and therefore fulfilling her desperate need for fame. I detected a bitter undertone to his words but he insisted that the break up was amicable and he didn’t want to hold Erin back from achieving her dreams. We fell into silence. After a short time he turned to me with a serious expression on his face.

  “I’m made up for you. You know that, right?”

  I nodded and looked down at the grass. It was unusual for Russ to talk about his feelings like this.

  “Any bugger can see Lucy is happiest when she’s with you.” His words hung in the air. “I really am made up for you, mate,” he said again.

  His expression was sincere and I saw that he meant it. I forced my smile to match his and hoped that no trace of pity remained visible on my face.

  “Glad to hear it, pal, because I was hoping you’d be my best man.”

  He looked at me, shuffling his feet as he thought about it. Of course he had to play the fool when he replied.

  “I shall be honoured, my liege… honoured.”

  We shook hands then and I felt the tension that had been building in my shoulders disappear.

  “Hang on here a moment, bud.”

  Russ’s voice cut into my thoughts and I was transported back to the present day. I had made good progress on the treehouse but could see there was still a lot more to be done. I watched Russ as he expertly jumped down from his perch and jogged over to the house where he disappeared through the door leading to the kitchen. I watched as he encountered someone who had their back to the window. The door creaked open and a custard-coloured ball of fur came pounding out. I knew this was Snoop, th
e dog Lucy had given a home to after my death. The dog began sniffing around the garden, but didn’t seem to have noticed me. I turned my attention back to the kitchen window. Russ was pointing in my direction over the stranger’s shoulder, no doubt explaining the reason for my presence. The stranger began to turn towards me.

  In slow motion I saw the sharpness of her profile and the familiar way she was standing. I took in the green T-shirt that was her work uniform and watched her hair bounce when she moved her head. I caught a glimpse of her face as she glanced in my direction. She stopped suddenly and her eyes narrowed in suspicion, green eyes that appeared irritated by my presence.

  The scene must have seemed so ordinary to her, just another summer's day, but to me it meant everything. I struggled to tear my eyes away from Lucy’s as I continued to analyse her face. Was she happy? Sad? Grieving? I didn’t know. I had missed so much of her life that the face staring back at me was practically that of a stranger.

  Chapter Four

  After a short meeting with Lucy, Russ joined me in the garden. He waved me down to ground level and handed me a glass of orange squash. It was almost midday and not one cloud could be spotted in the clear, blue sky. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead and the offer of refreshment was more than welcome. I sat down on a decorative bench I had bought for Lucy’s twenty-fifth birthday. It had large sunflowers carved into it, with a handful of bees and butterflies surrounding the pretty flowers. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship. I looked over at Russ who was leaning against the trunk of a tree, petting Snoop’s messy mop of a head.

  “Ah, you’re a soft dog, you are,” he told the mutt affectionately.

  “He seems to have warmed to you,” I noted.

  “Aye, we’re good pals him and me. I’ve known him since he was a pup.”

  “Are you quite close to the owner then?”

  “We go way back, me and Luce. Since childhood.”

  “So you’re good friends?”

  “Yeah, most of the time,” he said with a smirk.

  I hesitated as I tried to find a way to get Russ to open up. I needed more information but I didn’t want to raise his suspicions. The whole situation was feeling very strange. I had never needed to work hard to get Russ to open up before and had constantly to remind myself that we were now little more than strangers.

  “Have you ever been more than friends?” I asked bluntly.

  Russ stopped stroking the dog long enough to look up at me.

  “Nope.”

  “Oh, I thought I detected a romantic involvement when I saw you both just then.”

  “Nah,” he said, fixing his gaze on an upper window of the house. “She’s hard to tie down, that one.”

  “I heard some of the older fellas talking in the pub before you came in. Something about a car accident that a local doctor had been involved in.”

  “Yeah, unfortunately. He’s in hospital now, the doc… in a coma. His chances of surviving are fifty-fifty at the minute. Lucy’s been hit hard by it, they’ve only been married a short time.”

  I opened my mouth to reply but saw Russ’s gaze fixed on an object behind me; his eyes widened a little and a small but unmistakable smile appeared on his rugged face. I turned to see Lucy strolling towards us, a platter of thickly sliced sandwiches balanced on one upright palm. She had replaced her simple work uniform of black trousers and green T-shirt with tight-fitted navy blue jeans and a simple white shirt tucked into the waistband. Her hair was loose and fell in waves to her waist. It was the longest I had ever seen it and the weight of the new length pulled at her curls so that they were almost straight. Her skin was uncharacteristically tanned due to her recent trip abroad and it gave her an exotic look.

  She smiled politely at me; obviously her attitude had changed since her initial reaction to my presence. For someone whose husband was in a coma with only a fifty per cent chance of survival she looked extremely well. I was aware that I was staring but to me she didn’t seem quite real and I felt a sudden urge to reach out and touch her.

  “I made you boys some cheese and ham sandwiches, with it being lunchtime and all.”

  “Thanks, Luce.”

  A silence fell over the three of us then and I realised they were both expecting me to introduce myself.

  “Oh, I’m… er…” In all the excitement I struggled to remember the name of the body I’d invaded. “Er… I’m… Adam.”

  “Nice to meet you, Adam,” Lucy said politely. “I hear you’re my new helping hand.”

  “Yes. I hope I don’t disappoint you,” I said awkwardly.

  “I’m sure you won’t,” she said with a smile, “It’ll be nice to have someone around during the day.”

  I nodded and glanced at Russ whose gaze was still fixed on her.

  “Well, I’d best go and make use of my half-day holiday,” Lucy said as she began to turn back to the house.

  “What are your plans, Luce?” Russ called, causing her to turn back.

  “I just have some errands to run in town, that’s all, I’ll be back for dinner. I wouldn’t miss your cooking, Russ.”

  He nodded and watched her disappear inside the house while I quietly analysed her behaviour. She seemed to be coping with her husband’s car accident extremely well, no sign of stress or panic. For someone with a history of anxiety this calm, collected manner seemed unusual. Was this the result of some new medication? Had she had some form of therapy since the last time I’d seen her? I thought about mentioning her behaviour to Russ, but I wanted him to warm to me and to recreate the trusting friendship I had always had with him, so I kept quiet.

  We ate our lunch in silence and swiftly got back to work. Russ was unusually silent and I sensed Lucy’s departure was worrying him. As I worked on the treehouse I found certain areas that would benefit from repairs and made a mental note to mention them to him. I was hoping I could drag them out in order to spend more time in Lucy’s company.

  “So, you got a family… a wife?”

  Russ’s question came out of the blue and I looked over at him to establish whether his words were aimed at me.

  “Erm… ” I mumbled.

  Should I lie? How could I answer that question when I hardly knew who I was? My mind wandered to the page I’d read in the diary, the young son and Adam’s wife Emma.

  “I have a son and I used to be married.” I could only assume Adam was now divorced as there was nothing belonging to a woman in the house, nor anything belonging to a child for that matter.

  Russ fell quiet while he took in what I’d said.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said finally. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I don’t know, really. I haven’t quite figured it out.”

  “Women, eh? They never let you know what you’ve done wrong.”

  “Are you married?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “Nah, it’s not for me. No lass has managed to tie me down yet.”

  “Maybe you just haven’t met the right one.”

  “I’ve met plenty,” he said firmly.

  God Himself knew that to be true. Russ had looked far and wide for Lucy’s replacement and still hadn’t managed to find anyone who held his interest like she did.

  “So what is there to do in Grassington then? I bet there’s more going on there than here.”

  “There’s the Folk Festival this Saturday,” I said, remembering a poster I’d seen on my way out of the village.

  Russ looked puzzled. “Folk Festival?”

  “Yeah, something to do with folk bands and real ales,” I explained.

  “Sounds bizarre enough for a visit. You going?”

  “I imagine it’s not much fun on your tod,” I replied.

  “Come with me then, I want to see this Folk Festival in all its glory.” Russ said the words “Folk Festival” like they were the most ridiculous he’d ever heard, but I agreed to meet him there.

  I was happy at the prospect of spending
time with my friend, on an outing we’d both have got a kick out of before my death. I was beginning to feel at ease again in Russ’s company and was relieved that the awkward moments were now few and far between.

  Before long it was time for me to go. Russ agreed to run me back to the pub where I’d left my bike and I mentioned to him some of the repairs I thought the treehouse needed.

  “Are you sure you’re a teacher?” he asked jokingly.

  I nodded awkwardly and once again Russ looked at me curiously. I was never a very good liar.

  During the short car journey to the pub we passed Lucy in her Mercedes convertible. Her face was flushed and her forehead knitted in a frown. Russ waved as she passed but Lucy was too preoccupied to notice.

  “I wonder if she’s been to the hospital,” he said, more to himself than to me.

  We drove the rest of the way in silence. The lack of information was frustrating for me. Even more frustrating was the fact that I had known Lucy and Russ since childhood but they no longer trusted me enough to open up. I needed to find a different way to discover the information I sought.

  I thanked Russ for the lift and reassured him that I could find the house myself from now on. Just as I was about to set off on my trusty bike, I spotted a familiar sight.

  Two figures stood very close together as they walked beside the same river that had claimed my life. They were holding hands, which wasn’t uncommon for them. A smile flashed between them as they spotted a fish in the clear water before they continued walking in my direction. I stared at my parents as if they weren’t real, my eyes widening with every step they took closer to me. My father noticed me standing there and offered a polite nod while my mother said a cheery “hello”. I managed a swift “good evening” before they passed me and turned in the direction of their cottage.

  I thought about my parents throughout the ride home. I needed to be near them, to talk to them and eventually say my goodbyes. Seeing how happy they still were with each other was heart-warming and I was glad my death hadn’t put unnecessary strain on their marriage.

 

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