Sleep Peacefully

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Sleep Peacefully Page 9

by NC Marshall


  I finally get control of my mind, and focus. “No, it’s okay Ryan, I understand,” I reply quietly, reassuringly, and I do. I think if I had been with Mum that day, then I would have done the exact same thing as Ryan had to protect everyone else.

  “You understand that I had to tell you this now because of the accusations that you have put on Matt. But I don’t want you telling anyone else about it, Nat, not this far down the line. Not when everyone seems to be at least making a start on living their lives again.”

  He sounds as though he is begging me not to reveal his secret, but he has no need to beg.

  I smile back at Ryan. Once again, he is thinking about everyone else, selfless to the core, wanting to not only protect everyone from even more heartache, but also to rescue his closest friend from any further torment. I am so glad that this is the type of man he has grown into. I feel embarrassed and humiliated that my actions have forced him to do this. I cross the room to where he is still sitting and I take his hand, holding it tightly in mine. Both of us are crying now.

  “Don’t worry Ryan,” I whisper. “This is between me and you and that’s how it’ll stay. You are right, the dreams have obviously meant nothing. I was a fool to think otherwise, and I promise that this is now the end of it.”

  I hug him, burying my head into his shoulder, feeling the coldness of the still damp leather against my hot, flushed face. I pull away and rub my eyes. Ryan smiles back at me, obviously fully believing that what I tell him is genuine, and seeming to mellow at my announcement. My words sound so sincere, I only wish that I believed them myself.

  Chapter 12

  Two months pass. The dreams haven’t returned since I spoke to Ryan, and I feel like I can start once again to get on with my life. The fact that Jess could have committed suicide has hurt me. I’m still so confused I can’t even see straight, but I need to put it behind me.

  Looking back now, it feels like more time has passed since the night Ryan spoke to me about what he and Mum had learned. In some ways, although confused, my state of mind and even my conscience is clearer than it has been for a while. I’m finally starting to let go. There was nothing I could have done, and I need to come to terms with this, as Ryan has.

  I’ll never know what was going on in Jess’s mind that night. There’s no rewind button, no instant digital playback. I need to focus on my own future now, that’s what Jess would have wanted. I have a family that I need to think about, a life of my own that I need to focus on. Dr Peterson was right; the only person who can get me through this is me. Maybe the revelation has helped me in some strange way, and that’s why the dreams have stopped. I was an idiot to think that there was anything more to be read into them. And now, I honestly believe that the vision I saw showing Jess in the mirror was nothing more than sleep deprivation playing havoc with my brain function.

  I called Matt a few weeks ago. I had been putting it off, going over and over again in my head what I was going to say to him. I carefully rehearsed the words that I would use to make this right. I knew I couldn’t stay a coward forever. It was something that I was dreading doing, but I knew that I had to apologise and clear the air between us.

  Obviously, when I eventually went to his apartment to see him, I didn’t mention what Ryan had told me. It would only hurt him, and he has no reason to start to question Jess’s death this far down the line. Not only that, but Ryan had asked me not to tell anyone, and I want to respect his wishes. I had also made a promise to my brother that night to stop trying to find a reason for our sister’s death that just doesn’t exist. And I intend to keep that promise, now that I know the truth.

  Matt had been surprisingly kind to me, and accepted my apology without hesitation. I didn’t even think he would allow me back into his house again after what I had said to him. He had always been a kind-hearted and forgiving person. I can’t believe that I even doubted this for a moment.

  Work is going well. I have learnt a great deal already during my training, and I am starting to feel confident about the new role that I have taken on. Sophie has been fantastic and we have grown to be quite good friends, which I am pleased about. Richard has also been great, I can see already that he is going to be a good person to work for. He is friendly and warm when you get to know him, and during the brief occasions that I spend with him we seem to get on well. I have discovered he has a great sense of humour yet is still incredibly professional.

  It’s my last day of training today at Wallis and Spoors before I officially start my role in the New Year. As I get myself ready to go, I am tired and don’t feel too great. My head is banging, and I have an almost constant queasy feeling. Josh had been poorly and was sent home from school yesterday, with a stomach bug. He is much better today, so it must have just been a twenty-four hour thing, but I think he has passed the virus on to me now. I just need to soldier on, I can’t possibly phone in sick on my last day of training. Plus, I want to see everyone before Christmas to wish them all the best.

  After dropping Josh off at school, I head for work. My stomach seems to have settled slightly. I hope that I am better for tomorrow night; it’s Dan’s company Christmas party, and I really don’t want to miss it. His law firm always holds a fantastic event, and this year they are holding it at a nearby country golf course. Not that I have the slightest interest in the sport, unlike my husband, but the golf course has an incredible five star hotel with an award winning restaurant and spa. The event includes an overnight stay in a luxury suite. The whole package is paid for by the company, including a pamper package and beauty treatments for the ladies who have been invited. I’ve been looking forward to it for ages. I can’t remember the last time Dan and I had a night away alone. Judging by how Josh is today I’m hoping that I will be back to myself in no time, once the bug is out of my system.

  *

  At work, I busy myself finishing off some paperwork that I had started to sort the previous day and begin to arrange my personal files, so I am all set to go on my return in a few weeks. Sophie is busy meeting and greeting Richard’s next clients. She gets my attention as she passes the glass office doors, heading for the coffee machine. She asks if I want one. I nod and put up both of my thumbs, smiling back at her. She shows the clients into Richard’s office and then hurries back to get our drinks, soon joining me at the desk.

  “My God, they were miserable old buggers!” she whispers into my ear, as she puts down a cup of coffee in front of me. She giggles through her bright pink painted lips, adding, “I think the bald one fancies me.”

  I chuckle at her, opening my mouth and raising my hands, pretending to be shocked.

  “Sophie, I would be very surprised if there was a straight man in England who didn’t fancy you,” I reply. She pushes me light-heartedly, then pulls down her black framed glasses from her head, and logs into her computer. It’s easy to see that Sophie doesn’t quite see what others do in her. She attracts a lot of male attention throughout the office. She never notices it, her heart firmly taken by Jason, her boyfriend of the past three years, who she has just moved in with.

  “I’m so disappointed you can’t come tomorrow night, Nat,” she says, spinning her chair backwards to grab the pile of files sitting behind her. It is Wallis and Spoors Christmas party tomorrow night, too. But I had already agreed that Dan and I would go to his. And, in a selfish sort of way, I would much rather a stay in a five star hotel than go for a meal at the local football ground, although I’m sure that they will all have a great time.

  “I know, me too,” I reply. “But I’ll definitely be on the next night out you all have.”

  I glance at my watch; it’s almost two, which is when I finish work. I have a hair appointment with Kate before I head back home. I need to look my best for tomorrow night.

  I pick up my drink and take a small sip. As soon as I taste the coffee, the room starts to spin, my mouth fills with saliva, and I know that I am going to throw up. Sophie sees my expression and runs to open the door just in time f
or me to run through it and straight to the ladies’ toilets.

  I can’t believe this, I think. Josh had only been sick twice yesterday, this is the third time today for me and it’s only just gone lunchtime. He must have a much better immune system than his mum.

  Still feeling woozy, I leave the toilet cubicle and run the cold tap, taking a drink from my hand. I splash cold water on my face and try to avoid my reflection in the mirror above the sinks. After I rub my hands under the dryer, I turn too quickly, catching my elbow on the corner of the tampon machine behind me, which causes me to wince. I briefly inspect the small cut it’s created on my elbow before turning my attention to the metal sanitary dispenser attached the wall. I am suddenly aware of the fact that it has been a while since I last bought tampons.

  “Oh, shit,” I say, my voice echoing through the empty room, as I suddenly realise that I may not have a twenty-four hour stomach bug at all.

  I return to the office and try to act as natural as possible. I say my goodbyes to everyone, telling them to have a great Christmas and New Year, while attempting to remain as normal as I can and hide my desperation to leave. I hug Sophie and tell her that I’ll text her and that we will have to meet up for a drink sometime soon. She agrees, and tells me to get well soon. Naturally, she assumes that I have the bug Josh had yesterday.

  As I head outside, I call Kate and tell her I’m not feeling too good, so I’ll have to cancel the appointment for my hair. I don’t want to say anything to her yet as I could be wrong. I go through dates in my head and work out that I have missed at least one period, could even be two. I have been so tied up with starting the new job and stressing over the dreams that I hadn’t even noticed. Kate tells me to look after myself, and she will call me tomorrow morning. I put on my coat and head straight to the nearest chemist.

  My feet are hitting hard on the pavement, the loud thudding seems to be the only thing that I can hear. I turn the corner onto the busy city high street, bustling with Christmas shoppers. Everywhere I look, there are brightly lit decorations. I see a busker playing a guitar and singing Christmas songs as I push my way through the crowds of people, all of whom seem to be travelling in the opposite direction.

  I spot the chemists and make a left turn, dashing towards the large electric doors. As they open, I collide with a lady and send her handbag crashing to the pavement outside the shop's entrance. I don’t look up. Instead, I mumble “Sorry,” then swoop down to pick up the bag, which is a little wet from the puddle it has unfortunately landed in. As I stand up, I hear a voice and I recognise it instantly. There are not many people I know who are as well spoken.

  “Oh my goodness, Nat, is that you?”

  Although the timing really couldn’t be any worse, I can’t help smiling as I look up to see my old boss Steph staring at me, a taken aback look plastering her perfectly made up face.

  “Steph,” I say, hugging her, as she pops the contents of her designer handbag back into their rightful compartments.

  As always, she is impeccably dressed. She wears a tailored grey dress suit with high black stiletto shoes and black opaque tights. Her face looks the same as I remember. However, I spot some deepening lines surrounding her eyes and mouth. Silver streaks now sprinkle her strawberry blonde hair. She has aged quite a bit since the last time I saw her.

  We stand talking for a few moments. Steph tells me that she is retiring in the spring. I am so happy that she is putting herself and her family at the forefront of her life rather than her career at the magazine, as she has done for so many years.

  “God, it’s been years since I last saw you. How’s Dan and little Josh? Both well, I hope?”

  “Yes, yes, we’re all great, thanks.” I pause, bracing myself for what I know is coming next.

  “I was so sorry to hear about Jess,” Steph says, right on cue. She bows her head and steps aside for a lady with a double push-chair to get past. My eyes linger on the new-born baby twins inside the carriage before I give my full attention back to Steph.

  “Thanks,” I say quietly. It still makes me feel uncomfortable when anyone mentions Jess’s death. “And thank you for the card and the flowers you sent us, they were beautiful,” I add.

  I vaguely remember the flowers that I had received the day before Jess’s funeral, and the sympathy card with a note inside sending her love. She had known Jess quite well through the magazine, but had been unable to attend her funeral.

  “It was such a shock,” Steph continues, “But she looked well the last time I saw her. I didn’t even know that she and Matt had split up. She looked so happy when I bumped into her with her new partner.”

  “I’m sorry,” I blink hard at her. The look of confusion plastered across my face must be blatantly obvious, as Steph turns a bright shade of pink and looks at the ground. Probably hoping that it will open up and swallow her whole.

  “I saw her... in a restaurant, not long before I heard the news that she had died,” Steph stammers, apparently realising she’s told me something about my sister that I didn’t know.

  “She was with a man and they looked... close. I knew she and Matt had been having problems. I just assumed they had split up and moved on. He seemed like a lovely guy, absolutely gorgeous, with an Australian accent if I remember rightly.”

  My mouth falls open. Steph must register my reaction. She quickly changes the subject, and then makes a lousy excuse to leave. We say goodbye and I watch her turn the corner, her fast-paced heels clicking on the pavement, flashing the red soles of her shoes before she disappears out of view.

  I turn and head slowly into the store, idly picking out the aisle that is most likely to stock pregnancy tests. I move in the direction of it, my mind once again all over the place. I wish I could say that Steph had it wrong, but something about what she has just told me makes perfect sense. A cold chill runs the length of my spine as I wonder how many other secrets my sister kept from me.

  Chapter 13

  Jess

  I pull my sunglasses from the top of my head and place them over my eyes. I squint at the blaring sunshine, tilt my head back and breathe in the warm salty air. A few yards ahead, I can see Lola, running through the crowds in a zigzag-shaped line towards the water’s edge. Her arms are raised up as if she’s soaring. The heat from the sun burns into my bare shoulders and I regret not applying a higher factor lotion before stepping out into the midday Australian heat.

  We arrived from the UK in the early hours of the morning. Sydney is our first port of call for our two-year adventure. I can’t wait. We have wasted no time at all. When we arrived, we quickly found our hostel, unpacked and headed straight out to explore the city that we will be calling home for the next few months or so. Trying to sleep has been a waste of time as we were too excited and raring to go, our bodies pumping hard with adrenaline.

  Lola reaches the water’s edge and comes to a halt in front of it. She slips off her sandals and jumps in, walking out until the water hits her knees. I hear her squeal with childlike delight as the sea lashes up, curling into a small wave, and soaks the bottom of her shorts.

  “We’re on Bondi Beach, baby!” she shouts towards me.

  I smile back at her and nod, finding it hard to believe that we are here. As I continue up the beach, I look out further into the Pacific Ocean where wetsuit-clad surfers take advantage of its great foaming swells, throwing their bodies into the waves, fearless of the water’s hidden dangers.

  The golden sand is hot. I am grateful to reach a grassed area at the end of the beach where the shaded ground looks a little cooler. I cross the promenade and sit down, as Lola waves at me from the shore and starts to make her way up to join me. There is an outdoor pool nearby, full of children laughing and playing, enjoying the weekend sunshine. I can see the famous lifeguard hut ahead of me and beyond it the old pavilion.

  Behind me on the busy grass verge, three young girls dressed in Bohemian style dresses, relax barefoot on the lawn. One beats lightly on a small bodhran drum, keepin
g perfect rhythm while the others sing along to its beat. Their sweet voices fill the surrounding area, making the vibe of the place feel even more alive and magical.

  Lola reaches me and falls down in a heap, lying on her side facing me, propping her head up on her hand. Her face is already starting to tan, and her shorts are still soaked through from the sea. We grin at each other and begin to laugh. The unspoken look crosses between us saying that we can’t actually believe we are here. After the last few months and the stress from uni, it’s a welcome sense of relief on both our parts.

  We know that at some point we will have to find jobs; hopefully that won’t be too difficult. We have a lot of experience from the bars we have both worked in to get through university and Jan, the manageress from the wine bar has given us fantastic references. For now, though, a few weeks pretending that we are on holiday can’t hurt.

  *

  Later that night, we decide to go to Circular Quay for some food and a few drinks. I know that our budgets won’t allow us to do this for the duration of our trip, but we can make an allowance for our first night here.

  We catch a bus from our hostel on the outskirts of the city and make our way to Sydney Harbour. As we walk across a main road and under a bridge, I can see the busy ferry terminals, and beyond that the infamous bridge and opera house. The sun is setting, and there is an exquisite orange glow around the area. I gasp at its beauty and pinch myself for the hundredth time that day to ensure I’m not dreaming.

  We take a slow walk past the many busy outdoor restaurants, heading towards the opera house, laughing as we stop occasionally to take pictures. A busker with a didgeridoo sits cross-legged on the pavement, and puts up a thumb to pose for a photo as we pass. Daylight is now dimming, the city lights behind us start to dazzle as its nightlife begins to come alive.

 

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