She sighed heavily.
“Because I miss him. Because the world is a little less radiant and a little more stormy without him. Because I haven’t been able to find anyone like him again… until now.” She turned her body towards mine. “You have his soul, his heart, his gentle affection. There are times when it’s hard for me to differentiate between the two of you and it leaves me so confused.”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I looked at my clasped hands.
“That’s OK. In a way you bring him back to life for me.”
I fell silent while her words lingered in the air. “I’m glad I can help,” was the only reply I could conjure up.
“You do help me. I don’t think I’ve felt this carefree since I met Jamie.”
“He seemed to be good for you.”
“For a short time perhaps, in the early days, before I found out that his friendship was dependent on what I could do for him.”
“You’re never far away from someone willing to take advantage of you, especially in a time of need. I want to tell you that such people are in a minority but sadly that’s not the case. I guess it must be basic human nature, a sort of survival instinct.”
Lucy nodded slowly before scanning the barn in some detail. She would often retreat into her thoughts during times of vulnerability. Occasionally, when her own thoughts became too much, she would seek refuge in the comforting pages of a familiar story, usually one involving some form of tragedy: Wuthering Heights, Romeo and Juliet, Tristan and Isolde were all firm favourites. In a cruel irony she was now the flesh and blood of her own tragic love story, and one that was a whole lot more complicated to escape from than simply closing the covers of a book.
I watched as the burden of her thoughts caused a small crease to appear between her eyebrows. I wanted to save her from the uncertainties that were crushing her and affecting her ability to think rationally. But something held me back. I was once again reminded of the fact that I was here to save her life, not carry on where we’d left off.
Lucy leaped up suddenly and dashed towards something at the far end of the barn. I squinted in the low light and the outline of a tall thin object emerged. It took me a while to realise that it was a ladder. Feeling uneasy, I followed her and realised that the ladder led to an old hay loft. By the time I reached it she was halfway up. Her yellow coat lay on the concrete floor, flung off in a hurry and without care.
“Lucy!” I shouted up to her.
She stopped climbing and looked down at me.
“Yes?” she said with a mischievous grin.
“What are you playing at?”
“Don’t worry, I used to do this all the time when I was little.” She turned her back on me and continued to climb the ladder.
When I reached it I could see that it was made from wood that looked well weathered and I worried about its condition. I got halfway up and my concern proved to be justified. A weak rung collapsed when I placed my full weight on it. Luckily I had a good grip and enough strength in my biceps to hold me in place.
When I reached the loft, Lucy was waiting for me with a grin on her face. These rapid switches in her in behaviour were beginning to confuse me. She now appeared reckless and detached, not at all like the careful, anxious girl I had known.
“Are you ready?” she asked impishly as she reached out for my right hand.
“For what?” I asked, feeling uneasy.
Without answering she pulled me close to her and wrapped her arms tightly around my body. I became suddenly aware of the deep drop that was only inches from our feet. Without warning Lucy leaned towards the edge of the hay loft using her whole body weight for impetus. I had no time to prepare myself and felt my body follow hers as we plummeted to the ground. I braced myself for the hard impact, my heart racing and my mind panicking. We were falling… any minute now we would make contact with the concrete floor. I shut my eyes and heard Lucy laugh with excitement before our bodies instead came into contact with a soft substrate.
I lay there in confusion as my eyes adjusted to the shadows and dust around us. Lucy’s hysterical laughter continued to ring out.
“You should see your face!” she laughed.
Still in a daze, my fingers made contact with the soft matter that had broken our fall. It was made up of brittle stalks and I realised then we were lying on a mountain of straw. As I tried to get up I saw that one of Lucy’s arms was still clamped tightly around my waist.
“What were you thinking?” I said, angry with her careless behaviour. “There could’ve been an accident… we could’ve fallen awkwardly… one of us might’ve broken something… ” My voice trailed off as she looked at me in surprise.
“Relax,” she said nonchalantly, “you’re fine. You were never in any danger, I knew there was straw down here.”
“You think I’m worried about myself?” The grin on Lucy’s face disappeared as she realised I wasn’t playing along.
“No… I… ”
“Life is precious, Lucy. It’s not worth losing over a stupid joke. Cherish your own life. Don’t throw it away like I did.” My words sounded harsh even to my own ears and I turned away from her as guilt took hold of me. I heard her shift into a sitting position. The only other sound in the room came from the sleeping lamb as he snored softly below us.
“I’m sorry, Adam, I didn’t realise the possible consequences of my actions.” Her voice was strained and barely audible. “I thought it’d lighten the mood… just a silly game.”
Her apology made me ashamed. I’d taken out on her all the guilt I felt for my foolish attitude towards my own life. It was a powerful emotion and one that refused to leave me; a constant torment. My own personal straight-jacket.
“I don’t know what’s happened in your past or why you feel you’ve thrown your life away, but I want you to know that whatever it is you’ve done will never stop me from caring for you.” Sadness tinged Lucy’s words, a powerful emotion that provoked the same feeling in me. I swallowed hard in an attempt to control my reaction.
“I’ll never walk away from you.” I felt her hand on my shoulder, turning me to face her. “We all need a friend, Adam, let me be yours.”
I looked into her eyes and saw the compassion and empathy there. I was reminded of the many times in our past that she had comforted me, had tried so hard to get me to open up to her. For a minute it was almost as if I had never left. I was Charlie again and Lucy was trying to fix me. As I looked into her eyes the walls of the barn blurred out of focus and I forgot where we were.
I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on hers as I cupped the back of her neck in both my hands.
“I wish I could take you with me… keep you close. How am I supposed to face leaving you?”
I felt the soft brush of her eyelashes as she closed her eyes and was reminded of the many times I had felt them against my skin and the many times in the afterlife I had wished to feel them one last time. I could smell the fresh scent of her shampoo in her wet hair; feel the warmth that radiated off her flushed skin. I ran my fingers through her hair and before I could do anything to stop myself I was kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids, every inch of her skin.
I kissed her hungrily, impulsively and without apprehension. Five years of frustration and longing were released. For the first time since my death I felt my senses heighten and every nerve ending in my body catch on fire. A feeling of euphoria streamed through my veins, causing my heartrate to quicken as my breathing grew ragged.
We pulled away from each other. Lucy wrapped her arms around me tightly and rested her head on my shoulder; I placed my chin on top of her soft hair as I savoured the precious moment.
“Why couldn’t I have met you months ago?” she murmured.
“Who knows? Maybe you did,” I answered her.
Silence fell over us as we clung together, neither of us wanting to break the calm we felt in each other’s arms. The silence was abruptly shattered by the sound of the barn doors opening. A r
ay of sunlight shone into the darkness and Lucy placed a hand on her forehead to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness. The outline of a man came into view in the wide doorway.
“’Ere, what’re you two doin’ in me shed? I got an entire herd playin’ hell out ‘ere. This in’t no place for smooching, tha knows. I’ve got a flock to tend to an’ one of em’s missin’.” He pointed a stubby finger at us threateningly.
Lucy and I looked at each other. I could tell by her expression that she was barely restraining her laughter, which in turn caused me to let out a low chuckle. I looked down at the old gentleman in his tweed flat cap and corduroy trousers, standard farming attire for the Yorkshire Dales.
“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again,” I said feeling as though I were a teenager again, caught playing a game of Spin the Bottle.
I hopped down from the straw pile and offered my hand to Lucy. She was still wearing a grin; I imagined it matched the one on my face. We walked towards the doorway the farmer was currently blocking, our heads bowed. When I risked a glance at his face I could see that he was giving us a cold stare.
“You might want to check that one for bloat,” I said, nodding towards the lamb I had saved from choking earlier.
“Third pair of young ’uns this week,” he said under his breath, shaking his head and tutting his disapproval.
Once outside Lucy burst into hysterical laughter and I found myself joining her.
“How did he know we were here?” she asked.
“I’m guessing he’s caught teenagers here in the past.”
“You mean we’re not the first to grace its hay bales with our presence?”
“My guess would be absolutely not.”
We laughed again and I felt Lucy’s fingers curl around mine.
“I wonder if he really thought we were teenagers,” she said.
“Well, you maybe. Your freckles make you look young.”
She slapped my arm playfully but her smile stayed in place. The sun was high in the sky during our walk home and the storm a distant memory. The smell of damp hay was everywhere and I was reminded once again of our passionate embrace in the barn. My mind wandered back to the words I had uttered. Words that were spoken entirely in the heat of the moment and without careful consideration of the consequences. Lucy hadn’t yet mentioned them and I assumed what I’d said had been forgotten.
As we walked back down the dirt track I saw a small, yellow flower growing on the verge. I stopped to pick it and placed it gently in Lucy’s hair, now almost dry from the onset of heat. She thanked me by kissing me hard on the lips.
“Do you know what flower this is?” she asked.
“A yellow one?”
“Well, yes,” she said, amused by my answer, “but its official name is corn marigold. It symbolises passion.” She raised her eyebrows meaningfully. “However, in some cultures it can also symbolise jealousy.”
“I would say those emotions are rather similar.”
She gave me a sidelong glance.
“Speaking from experience?” she teased. “Are you a jealous man?”
“I can be.” She looked at me as if intrigued by my answer. “Even the mildest- mannered individual can feel jealousy.”
“Indeed,” she said.
Chapter Eighteen
Lucy left me on the doorstep of Adam’s cottage. It made me feel young again: kissing your girlfriend on the steps of a house that didn’t belong to you was usually something reserved for the younger generation.
I went inside, changed my wet clothes and made tea, smiling to myself as I recalled all that Lucy had said to me in the barn.
The sound of a hard knock on the front door interrupted me. My first thought was that it was Lucy returning for something. However, it was Emma I found on my doorstep. She was wearing a tight burgundy dress with a pair of high-heeled leather boots and her face was covered in thick makeup. Her vibrant red hair had waves running through it that appeared to soften her features and diminish the sternness usually visible there.
“I’m sorry, am I late for something?” I said, confused.
“Our dinner date,” Emma said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“I’m just kidding, I was expecting you,” I lied in an attempt to protect her feelings.
On my way out I grabbed a light jacket in case the evening air carried a chill on the walk back. The restaurant was a greasy spoon during the day and a vibrant, crockery-smashing Greek taverna by night. I opened the door for Emma and she thanked me. Ever since I had taken over Adam’s life I had assumed that he was a gentleman like myself.
We followed our eager waiter to a table for two by the window. I pulled Emma’s seat out for her and she smiled at me as she sat down. When I took my seat I realised I had a good view of the street beyond and watched as a lively group of friends made their way to the nearby pub, their light banter audible as they passed the window. It was only when we had ordered our meals and our drinks had arrived that Emma and I started to feel comfortable with each other. I noticed that she had asked for a non-alcoholic drink to make me feel more comfortable. It was a gesture that showed me she still cared for Adam and it made me even more determined to fix their marriage.
Emma looked over her shoulder nervously. Since our arrival the restaurant had received an influx of customers. A large party at the far end were proving to be vociferous in their enjoyment of the occasion.
“I don’t think we’ve ever been here before,” Emma said, in an attempt to strike up a conversation.
“No, but I don’t think the restaurant's been here long.”
“That’s true,” she said before we fell into an awkward silence once again. When the waiter came with our food we were both grateful for the interruption. Emma dug into her moussaka with relish and we spent a few minutes talking about the food instead of what we were really there to discuss.
“When I informed Ben that I was seeing you today he was jumping around in excitement,” Emma told me finally. “He misses you,”
“I miss him,” I said simply, because I knew that Adam did miss his son.
Emma laid down her fork and looked straight at me. Her expression was one of sadness. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. Preventing you from seeing your son was cruel.”
“No, I disagree. You did the right thing, you were only protecting our child from his unfit father.”
“Well, I’m not sure about that. Looking back, I can see I was being selfish. I stopped you from seeing him because I was angry. I couldn’t understand how you could carry on drinking… how we weren’t a good enough reason for you to stop.”
I thought back to the diaries and attempted to come up with a response that sounded like it could be Adam’s.
“I was too far gone back then. I relied on the drink to keep me going, keep me alive. Succumbing to alcohol will always be one of the biggest regrets of my life. I lost my son… my wife… everyone who cared for me.”
We fell silent again as I toyed with the chicken souvlaki I had ordered. Greek music playing in the background picked up pace and a couple of waiters fell neatly into traditional dance. The large party at the far end of the restaurant cheered and clapped as the pace of the dance increased with the music.
“You were right about my friends Evie and Geoff, you know.” Emma stopped eating and I put down my fork while I listened. “After they heard you’d gone to prison they didn’t want to know me or Ben. They pretty much disowned us. No more playdates, dinner invitations… Evie even stopped going to yoga, to avoid me. If I passed them on the street they would ignore me, as if our friendship had never existed.”
“I’m sorry, Emma. They were never true friends. If they were they wouldn’t abandon you at your time of need.”
“I knew after your suicide attempt, when they made no attempt to contact me, that they were cruel people. Too focussed on their own status and reputation to feel much for anyone else.”
Her words saddened me. Adam’s diary hadn’t m
entioned anything about him attempting to take his own life. I felt anguish for the desperation he must have felt and the lack of other options available to him.
Emma reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. She looked at me with softness in her eyes, just as Lucy had earlier that day. My own eyes grew soft with the memory.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of colour in the restaurant window. It was the yellow raincoat Lucy had been wearing earlier and it was draped casually over the arm of its owner.
I remembered the coat lying carelessly on the floor of the barn; she must have gone back to retrieve it. Unfortunately for me the restaurant was on her route to the cottage, which was no doubt where she’d left her car. She was never supposed to see my meeting with Emma. I silently willed Lucy to continue, to carry on past the window without a glance in my direction. I saw her head turn and she stopped dead in her tracks.
Lucy’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at the hand covering mine; her features twisted in disbelief. When her gaze moved to my face my eyes pleaded with hers as I realised what the scene must look like to her. She shook her head slowly and started to run.
Emma was saying something about second chances and failed to notice my panicked expression. Every nerve ending in my body was juddering and my primary urge was to run after Lucy. However, I was aware that my sudden departure would raise Emma’s suspicions so I wracked my brains for an appropriate excuse. She was still talking about how glad she was to be in touch with me again.
“I’m sorry, Emma, but I need to leave,” I said, getting out of my seat and placing the napkin on the table. “I’ve had a migraine all day and now it’s got to the point where I can’t think straight.”
“But…” She looked around in alarm, perhaps afraid that I was making a scene. “You’ve not even finished your meal.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I said, placing enough money on the table to cover the bill.
“OK, well… I’ll come with you.”
“Absolutely not, you stay here and finish yours. I’ll make sure the waiters take great care of you.”
The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) Page 19