She nodded but still appeared perplexed by my sudden decline in health.
I took her hand and kissed it before leaving.
“I had a wonderful time, I’d like to do it again.”
“Absolutely.” She smiled anxiously.
I held her eyes a little longer than usual in an effort to reassure her that my running out on our date had nothing to do with her. I needed to ensure that she didn’t think badly of Adam. Once outside, I walked casually past the window that had been my downfall, rubbing my temples with both hands to keep up the pretence. Once I was out of view my casual walk developed into a desperate sprint. As I ran I assessed my chances of catching up with Lucy; she wasn’t an avid jogger but wasn’t exactly unfit and had a good few minutes’ start.
I ran past groups of people of all ages, out for an evening stroll or socialising with friends. I would catch a glimpse of their faces as I ran by, one minute happy and content, the next confused as I pushed past roughly. I didn’t have a lot of time to worry about how I was perceived by others, though, my only priority was what Lucy thought of me.
A group of teenagers came into view. They intentionally blocked my path, their childish laughter infuriating as I tried to get round them. Over the shoulder of one lanky juvenile I caught a glimpse of Lucy’s long hair flying behind her before she disappeared fast around a corner. The sight of her added fuel to my determination and I pushed a tall teen, purposely blocking my path, out of the way. I watched as he tumbled over and rolled on the hard cobbled path. I focussed on the spot I had last seen Lucy and ignored the threats the other teenagers screamed in my direction.
“Lucy!” I called, aware of the note of desperation in my voice.
I turned the corner and saw that she had stopped beside her car. She was fumbling in her bag for the keys. I picked up my pace, gasping for breath. I saw the lights on her car flash as she unlocked it. I skidded to a halt in front of the door just as she was about to open it.
“Adam, move,” she said calmly. I could see the tracks the tears had left on her face.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. I don’t want to speak to you.”
“Lucy, it’s not how it looked.”
“It never is, is it? I don’t know why I thought you’d be different.” She threw her hands up in the air and a group of pensioners stopped nearby to witness the scene in progress. “Everybody lies to me… first Jamie, now you. The worst part is that I keep falling for it, time and time again.”
“Not me. If you’d just hear me out,” I said desperately. I had no idea how I would explain what she’d just seen.
“I don’t want to hear you out, I want to go home.”
Her eyes burned with resentment, an emotion she had never directed at me before.
“If you want to leave I can’t stop you. But be warned, I will follow.”
“Well, I guess you’d better get pedalling then,” she said as she flung the car door open and started the engine.
“Lucy, wait, give me a chance.”
“I already did and you let me down.”
I felt helpless as I watched the car disappear over the hill. Just hours before I had shared a kiss with the woman I’d longed for for five years and now she resented me. It was a funny old life.
I found the bicycle and pedalled up the hill after her. I went as fast as my legs could go and gulped in air greedily, my body growing weak with fatigue. I looked up at the sky and was relieved to see that it was cloudless and I wouldn’t need to spend another bike ride in a torrential downpour. As the roads narrowed and the landscape changed and became familiar, my anxiety mounted. I had no idea what I was going to say to Lucy. I had no explanation for what she had just witnessed. The thought of leaving this world with her continuing to think I had betrayed her caused me to panic. Time was running out and I need to find a way to be reconciled with her.
When Lucy’s driveway came into view I stopped pedalling and threw the bike down before banging impatiently on the front door. I waited. No answer, not even a warning bark from Snoop. I lifted the letterbox in the middle of the door and peered through it. I saw an empty hallway with no artificial light coming from any of the rooms. I shouted Lucy’s name. Complete silence followed.
I looked around for any sign of life and noticed that her car was parked in the drive. I knew she wouldn’t have gone anywhere on foot. She hated any form of attention and the emotional state she was in was guaranteed to attract it. She would be hiding somewhere, a location that provided safety, somewhere she felt secure.
I entered the garden through the side gate and headed in the direction of the treehouse. I looked up at the windows in the hope that I might catch a glimpse of her. There was no movement or any indication of life inside the treehouse. I listened carefully for a bark or a growl but heard nothing. I was about to give up and turn away when I had the sudden urge to try the door handle. It turned easily in my hands and the door clicked open. I heard a ferocious bark as Snoop came running down the stairs, baring his teeth. His aggressive attitude didn’t last long. As soon as he recognised me his tail began to wag. I climbed the stairs with the dog trotting after me.
“Lucy!” I called. Silence greeted me.
I walked through the lounge but there was no sign that she had been there. I tried the bedroom next and again found nothing. I searched the entire building but found no sign of her. I entered her reading room and collapsed on top of a pile of cushions. My body relaxed as they moulded to my form. Something sharp dug into my back and then I reached beneath the pillows and pulled out the cause of my discomfort: the sharp edge of a hardback book. I turned it over in my hand to inspect it, curious about the story Lucy was in the middle of reading. The cover was well worn but the colours were still vibrant, the words Wuthering Heights sprawled across the front of the book in graceful scarlet lettering.
I left the reading room and headed for the balcony. The glass door was unlocked and slid open with ease. I took one step forward then immediately stopped. Lucy sat there in silence, her gaze fixed on the hills. Tears ran silently down her cheeks and she made no attempt to wipe them away. I kept silent, afraid that whatever I said would only worsen the sadness I had caused. Without saying a word I took a seat opposite her at the table.
“I was hoping you’d just leave,” she said harshly.
“I couldn’t. Not when I knew you were still here.”
“How did you know?”
“Wuthering Heights,” I explained. It was the story she would retreat to whenever things became overwhelming. I knew she wouldn’t have left without taking the book with her. She shook her head in exasperation.
“Cryptic yet again. Why are you here? You’re the last person I want to see.”
“Come on, Lucy,” I said, immediately regretting the harshness of my tone, “we both know you wanted someone to find you or you would’ve locked the door.”
She looked at me for the first time and I saw the full extent of the damage I’d done.
“How can you know so much about me when I know nothing about you?”
“I’m trying to let you in, Luce, but there are certain things I can’t reveal.”
“Of course not,” she said bitterly. “Because we don’t talk about you, do we? I hardly know anything about you.”
“What would you like to know?”
“Who was the woman you were having dinner with?”
“A friend of someone important to me.”
“What friend?”
“You don’t need to know.”
She turned away from me in frustration, eyes raised to the clear sky. When she turned back to face me, fresh tears glistened.
“Why is that not important?”
I paused. I hated myself for lying to her. It felt unnatural, like I was breaking an unspoken promise.
“Because this friend happens to be someone I’ve never met. He gave me a gift and I owe him a favour in return.”
“And having dinner with his ‘fr
iend’ was a way of returning that favour?”
“Yes… sort of. There’s more to it than that.”
“So tell me.”
“I can’t, Lucy. But, please, you have to believe that there’s nothing going on. I have no feelings for Emma whatsoever.”
“Emma?” Lucy’s expression changed from one of anger to confusion.
“Lucy, please. Don’t you trust me?”
“I thought I did... but there are so many things you’re hiding from me. You went to prison, for pity's sake, and I still don’t know why.” She raised her voice as she glared at me. “You come across as attentive and kind, like you really care. Seeing you with her… after… it hurts. I thought I’d finally found someone, but now I’m questioning your motives.”
“I have no motives.”
She paused, presumably determining whether I was telling her the truth. She was lost in her own thoughts for so long that I began to wonder whether she would speak again.
“You remind me so much of Charlie.” She looked confused and there was an undertone of sorrow in her voice. “I know I’ve said it before, but you are like him in so many ways that often it scares me. Sometimes it’s almost like he never left.”
She swept her hair off her face and closed her eyes; she looked so vulnerable. I wracked my brains for a suitable reply but failed to produce one that wouldn’t reveal my true identity. And if I did confess the truth, the chances of her believing me were slim. Even someone as open-minded as she was would find it hard to belief that the spirit of her dead fiancé was now living in the body of a stranger. I watched as tears streamed from her tightly closed eyes, knowing that I was responsible.
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” she whispered.
I reached across the table and grasped her forearms tightly. Her eyes remained firmly closed but she didn’t pull away.
“Luce, please. I hate to see you like this. Tell me what to do to make things right. Please, I’ll do anything.”
“Why do you care?” She opened her eyes and stared angrily into mine. “Aren’t I just a game to you? Something to pass the time?”
“Lucy…”
“Leading me on so you can leave me flat. Isn’t that what you were saying in the barn earlier? ‘How am I ever going to be able to leave you, Lucy?’ Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie. Whatever this is between us is a lie. I’m entertainment for you, someone to satisfy you until you find someone new.” She was shouting now. “I’m right, aren’t I? I’m a plaything to you, a toy. Go on, admit it. Be a man and admit it.”
“Lucy, I…” Sighing, I closed my eyes momentarily in an attempt to conjure up some courage. “There’s no easy way to say this and you can tell me to go to hell if you want. God knows I’ve spent the best part of five years there… ”
“Spit it out,” she said harshly.
“I love you deeply. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“How can you? You hardly know me.”
“I know you better than most... I know you escape from reality with a book. I know that the only thing that eases your anxiety is a walk among those hills.” I pointed to the view beyond. She turned her head to see where I was pointing, “I know that, out of all the countries you have visited, that view is the only thing that comforts you and makes you feel safe. I know that you can’t sleep on plump pillows, that makeup makes you nervous and that you can’t go to bed without drinking a mug of thistle tea because someone once told you it was good for the digestion. I know you had a brief problem with drugs and alcohol in your last year of university that landed you in hospital for a short time, and I know that it’s one of your biggest regrets. I know everything about you.”
Lucy’s mouth gaped slightly and her eyes grew wide as she studied my face.
“Who are you?” she asked while attempting to move as far away from me as possible in her chair.
“You already know who I am.”
“You’ve researched me, you must’ve done.”
“I don’t need to research you, Lucy. I know you better than anyone does. You know who I am,” I said again.
“You’re Adam,” she said, shaking her head.
“Guess again,” I said softly. She looked at me, perplexed. “Our first morning in the treehouse, what breakfast did I make you? The waterfall I took you to, the secret place I used to fish with my father, my extensive knowledge of sheep bloat, the way I drive the Aston Martin… come on, Lucy, you already know who I am.”
“You can’t be.” She shook her head before staring at me again. “You can’t.”
I nodded while holding her eyes in an intense gaze.
“It’s not possible. You’re trying to fool me, manipulate me into forgiving you.”
“What would I gain from that?”
“I don’t know.”
Her eyes didn’t leave my face. In one swift movement she rose from her chair, pushing it back so hard that it hit the metal railing of the balcony with a sharp clang.
“Where are you going?” I said, rising with her.
“Inside. I need to think about this.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said as I began to follow her.
“No.” She whipped round to face me. “I need to be alone… I need to think.”
“Can I wait here for you?”
She nodded quickly before entering the lounge, Snoop following her faithfully. As I watched her go I started to re-evaluate what I’d just revealed. I told myself that she had guessed my secret, that technically I didn’t tell her anything I shouldn’t have. But I still felt unsettled by the fact that I had taken advantage of the kind gift I’d been given. In that moment I expected to be plucked from this world by God’s own hand and transported back to the world of the dead where I belonged. However, I knew that given the chance again I wouldn’t hesitate to repeat my actions. I had to reveal myself to Lucy, I had to let her know I was still with her, that I was watching her life play out from a different world. Beneath the conflicting emotions I felt there was no regret.
Through the glass door I could see Lucy as she paced up and down. Her head was bowed, making it hard for me to see her expression. I felt almost like a naughty schoolboy waiting in his teacher’s office while they came up with a suitable punishment. I was so afraid that Lucy would disappear I kept my eyes fixed on her. After a while the pacing stopped and she disappeared into her reading room. Fearing for her mental state, I got up to follow her.
I saw her staring at the groups of photos scattered around the minimally furnished room. As I approached I saw that she was clutching the Steiff bear I had picked up off the floor days earlier. She turned her head slightly as she heard my approach but looked at my feet, not wishing to engage in eye contact. I stopped a couple of feet away. Silence surrounded us. She picked up a silver-framed photograph and held it in both hands as if cradling a fragile object. As I peered over her shoulder I realised that it was a picture of us taken at a Hallowe’en party. She was wearing a long black wig and a figure- hugging, floor-length dress. She smiled beneath her thick, ghostly-pale makeup while I, dressed in a suit and a false moustache, kissed her outstretched hand, hamming it up for the camera.
“Gomez and Morticia Addams,” I said over her shoulder. “If I remember rightly I had to carry you upstairs later that night, you were in such a state.”
She glanced at me briefly.
“What else do you remember about that night?”
“It was the first time you drank alcohol since your therapy ended.”
“What else?”
“The party was held here, at our house. Almost the entire village turned up.”
She waited expectantly.
“Russ had been spiking your drink all night and that was the reason you were in such a state. After you passed out in our bedroom I went to talk to him. He accused me of being too over-protective and… well, I pushed him and he lunged at me. Things got a bit heated and we ended up in a fight.”
I studied Lucy�
�s expression but it was hard to read; her gaze was still averted as she stared at the picture.
“And nobody gave you this information?”
“No,” I replied truthfully.
Lucy grew quiet once more as she looked at the teddy in her hand. She held it up for my inspection.
“Tell me about this bear.”
In some twisted way I was glad she was testing me; it meant that somewhere in her subconscious she was considering the idea that I was who I claimed to be.
“I bought it for you during a weekend trip to Berlin. I had been so busy with the business I had neglected you. The trip was a surprise, a way for us to reconnect. We travelled there in December to see the Christmas lights. It snowed and we made snow angels.” I moved towards her slowly. “I teased you about your red cheeks, brought on by the cold. But while I teased you, I was actually thinking about how radiant you looked in your funny hat.” I cupped her cheek. “So alive.” I rubbed my thumb over its curve. “That was the last December we spent together.”
Lucy still looked dissatisfied. She pointed to a scar on her shoulder. “How did I get this?”
I leaned in and traced my finger over the pale, jagged line that lay parallel to her collarbone.
“It was summer,” I said, careful to describe the day precisely, “the day before school started. Russ and I were keen skateboarders back then, although our skills were somewhat lacking. We found a dirt track on a hill and built a ramp at the bottom. You insisted on going first – maybe you felt left out or had something to prove, I’ll never know. I just remember the look on your face as you hit the ground on the other side of the ramp. You fell awkwardly and your shoulder collided with a large rock. The wound bled and soaked your T-shirt. You needed four stitches and that scar is the proof.”
Her eyes stared at me vacantly, as if she was seeing something else, a different scene entirely.
“I’m so confused,” she whispered.
“Trust me,” I whispered back. “Please, Luce, it’s me... I don’t know what else to do to convince you. I’ve waited five long years to see you, talk to you, to…”
My words were silenced by the touch of her lips pressed hungrily against mine. I wrapped one arm tight around her waist and clamped my hand against the back of her head, twining my fingers in the softness of her hair. She pulled away from my mouth and started to kiss my neck, soft tender kisses that caused a prickling sensation on my skin. I closed my eyes as she whispered my name. My real name. Not Adam but Charlie.
The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) Page 20