The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) (26 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

I look around me with a crushing sense of confusion. The sterile, green walls of my small room have disappeared and everything I see is bathed in a soft light. I am glued to the spot, unable to move and explore this new world that seems to exude an aura of peace.

Something flashes in front of me. An image. It takes me a while but eventually I realise that the pictures flickering before my eyes are of my own life.

I watch myself as a screaming baby, then learning to walk, talk and find my place in the big wide world. Images of nursery, followed by infant and primary school flash by so fast it is hard for me to linger on one particular event.

I relive my first meeting with Charlie and witness the development of our lifelong friendship. I see my reaction to the news of his death and cry for the second time at his funeral. I watch him die in my arms in Adam’s body as well as my first meeting with the real Adam, the biological father of my child.

Before Charlie slipped away he left me with instructions. He made it clear that he wanted me to become part of Adam’s life. I kept the truth about Alice’s parentage a secret from him, though. I realised that it could destroy Adam’s relationship with his wife, something that was already extremely fragile.

I watch the images flash by and see my first meeting with Adam. I remember it like it was yesterday.  

After he re-entered the world, I visited him at his cottage. We talked as if we’d known each other for years. He didn’t suspect that it was in fact our first meeting and didn’t reveal the fact he had no idea who I was. He was polite and easy to talk to. As instructed, I watched closely for any signs that he was under the influence of alcohol, but found none. I knew it would please Charlie that all his hard work had not been wasted.

After that first meeting I met Adam’s wife, who gave me comforting pregnancy tips. I often found myself seeking her advice. After a while Russ entered the equation and continued where he’d left off with Adam, completely oblivious to the fact that he was a different soul, a different person. Or perhaps he was so desperate for friendship that he ignored any difference in mannerisms.

As images of the past years roll by, one distinct memory surmounts them all: the birth of my daughter Alice.

Faithful and sweet as always, Russ defied the wishes of his girlfriend Erin and remained by my side throughout my daughter’s birth. Now I see him smile at her again as I bundle her into his arms. His eyes turn soft as she stares at him and her small fingers curl around his thumb. A nurse enters the room and mistakes him for the father. I tell her he’s more than that and Russ’s cheeks flush a light shade of pink as he looks away.

Another image presents itself. This memory is an upsetting one. It is upsetting because on this day Russ was forced to make a choice. On Alice’s third birthday he came to help me set up the party I was throwing for her. He spent most of his time on the floor, playing with her toys, and the image still warms my heart.

Since her birth he had become an almost permanent fixture in the household and it was clear from the big smile she always had for him that Alice adored his company. The two of them were inseparable.

While the party was in full swing, Erin turned up at the front door.

“How long has he been here?” she asked, pushing past me.

“Since this morning, he’s been helping me. Well… on and off,” I laughed. Erin’s face remained stern.

I saw her disappear into the lounge where Russ was spinning Alice around the room, both of them chortling with laughter.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?” Erin asked him, harshly.

“Because you were still sleeping.”

“We’d arranged to do things this morning.”

“What things?”

“Go out for breakfast… spend some time together? Ring any bells?”

Regret was plain on Russ’s face as he remembered. He opened his mouth to apologise but Erin stopped him.

“Don’t bother coming home, I can see where your priorities lie,” she said, before turning on her heel and pushing her way past me in the hall. Russ remained frozen-faced.

“Wait, Erin,” I begged her. “Russ loves you, this is just a misunderstanding.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a sympathetic look.

“This isn’t your fault, I don’t want you to blame yourself,” she said gently before disappearing out of the door.

That was the last time I saw her, my free-spirited, independent friend. A few weeks went by before I asked Russ to move in with me. Being a single mother is hard and I was becoming increasingly aware that Alice needed a father figure in her life. I watch my past self as I make it clear to him that I am not interested in a relationship with anybody, that no one can take Charlie’s place. Russ agrees and tells me he’s done with relationships, he just wants to be close to Alice and me.

As I watch the images play out like a movie I can observe Alice’s development. Her first day at school in her tiny green uniform, climbing trees with the boys like I did, and then learning to swim in the river. Those times flew by so fast that I wish I had lingered occasionally to cherish them.

Before I know it Alice is a teenager and choosing an outfit for her first date. Russ is in the kitchen, tapping the worktop in agitation while staring out into the hallway.

“She’s too young to be going on dates, Luce.”

“She’s seventeen and she promised me that he’s a nice boy,” I say, filling the kettle.

“A nice boy? I’m sure many parents thought the same about me, once upon a time.”

“Are you saying you weren’t a nice boy?” I tease him.

“Not even close,” he states brazenly.

The doorbell rings and we both look at each other. Russ raises an eyebrow as we hear Alice’s shrill voice shouting for us to open it.

“Looks like I’m the slave,” he says in a bad-tempered manner.

“Be nice,” I warn, amused by his protectiveness.

As I dry some glasses I can hear Russ give the boy a hard time at the door as he asks about his intentions, grades and future aspirations.

I hear heavy footsteps as Alice bounds down the stairs. A heated exchange takes place between her and Russ about her inappropriate outfit. She slams the door and Russ re-enters the kitchen, looking defeated.

“What can I say? She’s her mother’s daughter,” I laugh.

The scene fades once again and a new image forms: Alice smiling in a cap and gown. She gingerly makes her way towards a grand stage to accept her PhD in biochemistry. She is now twenty-four years old and more beautiful than I ever was at that age. She turns to search the crowd until her gaze settles on Russ and me, her grin widens and we both proudly get out of our seats to applaud her achievement.   

Later in the evening the three of us join Adam and Emma for dinner to celebrate.

“I’ve got something very important to tell everyone,” Alice states. “I’ve got a job offer.”

A wave of congratulations ensues.

“It’s for a position at a top pharmaceutical company in Leeds.” 

The memory is a happy one and I watch with pride as Russ hugs her to him and tells her how proud he is. When the dinner ends, the three of us head home and celebrate with a bottle of champagne. I’ve noticed some intense stares from Russ throughout the evening but chosen to ignore them. Alcohol tends to cause him to drop his guard.

“Are you happy?” he asks me out of the blue.

“I am.” I smile at him before retiring for the night.

The next memory is hard for me to watch. It is a critical part of my life that seems to overshadow all other memories. In hindsight, it is insignificant in the life that I have led but it is powerful in its sense of completeness.

I sit in the colourless office of my consultant. A couple of weeks prior to this meeting I found a lump in my neck. Tests ensued and then this appointment.

I watch myself intently, savouring the innocent expression of somebody who still held hope in their heart, who ached to hear the words ‘benign’.

The only word I heard the doctor say was ‘cancerous’. I felt numb. I didn’t react. I didn’t know how to react. I told myself there was still time, that I’d caught it early. As I drove home, tears streamed down my face.

I told Russ and Alice later that night. Alice was now twenty-five and had received her first promotion. Russ showed no reaction at first and then visibly crumpled in front of me. His reaction was a shock; he usually showed no emotion, preferring to hold everything in.

Alice walked over to me and held me tight.

“You’ll be OK, Mum. I know you will.”

When she disappeared to her room I crossed the space between Russ and me. He held his head in his hands so I couldn’t see his face. I placed a comforting arm across his back.

“It’ll be OK. I’ll have chemo, the cancer won’t spread and they’ll cut it out.”

He remained silent, unmoving.

“Many people are diagnosed with lymphoma all over the world and… the survival rates are good and… I feel strong, healthy.”

I saw his chest move as he breathed but no sound escaped his lips.

“Russ, please don’t worry. We don’t know all the facts yet.”

Suddenly he turned his head to look at me. Dark circles like bruises had formed beneath his eyes.

We gazed at one another for a long time. I attempted a smile of reassurance but he didn’t return it. Eventually his lingering gaze made me feel uncomfortable so I looked away. I felt him touch my hand and allowed him to take it. He held it to his mouth and kissed it softly. We stayed like that for a long time until he eventually whispered that everything would be OK, over and over again. I remember thinking at the time that he was saying it more for his own benefit than for mine.

As the weeks passed I made a routine of watching myself in the bathroom mirror as I brushed my hair. Dozens of brown spirals floated to the floor and made a pile at my feet. I had asked my hairdresser to cut it short and she agreed to give me a sleek bob. I couldn’t bear the thought of the disappearance of my long locks and imagined that if it was short it’d be easier to witness the shedding of my beloved hair. I was wrong. After a few weeks had passed I asked Russ to brush it for me over the sink; he would dispose of the fallen hairs so that I was unaware of how much I had lost.

When my eyelashes and eyebrows gave up the ghost it affected me more than I’d anticipated. I felt less feminine, less attractive. It was almost as if I’d been stripped of my identity and before long I stopped doing the things I enjoyed.

Alice helped me pick a wig at the hospital and I remember how relieved I was to feel human again. Russ would intermittently bring me small packages containing false eyelashes and brow pencils as well as face masks and nail polish, and Alice and I would enjoy many evenings of pampering while he and Adam found solace in the pub.

As the months flew by I saw myself making my last memories with my daughter and holding on to them tightly. After a month of chemo it was time to find out whether it had worked. On a cold, blustery morning I learned it had not. The cancer had now spread and become aggressively invasive. I was going to die and it would be sooner than any of us had anticipated.

I look away as I see myself break the news to Alice. It is something I can’t live through twice.

As the weeks flew by I began to feel as though I was on a freight train with only one stop ahead. I felt myself grow weak and helpless, but only allowed others to do things for me when my last ounce of strength had evaporated.

Against my will, I found myself in a hospital bed surrounded by friends and family. My breathing began to rasp and I struggled to open my eyes.

One by one, they said their goodbyes. I knew the end was near but I wasn’t afraid. I could see Charlie’s face. I had been seeing him frequently in my dreams, reassuring me that everything would be OK.

Russ sat on the bed and held my hand for what seemed like an eternity. Fighting back tears, he leaned close to my ear and whispered his final message to me.

“I love you, Lucy, I always have. This doesn’t change anything. You’ll always be with me.”

I close my eyes tightly, not wanting to witness the upsetting scene again. It’s almost as though I’m watching a movie, except this is not a fantasy or a clever, fictional plot. It’s my own tragic story.

I feel uncomfortable as I watch my shrivelled lips try to whisper something back.

“I will see you on the other side,” I manage. “This isn’t goodbye.”

He nods and I can see that he’s struggling to control his emotions. He never has been one to show his feelings in public.

“I’ll take care of Alice. She’s safe with me.”

As he kisses my forehead I feel my soul rise above me and silently slip away. The image of my past life disappears and I am left gazing at the surreal landscape in front of me.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I think you may be in the wrong place.”

The voice comes from behind me and contains a hint of amusement. I smile as I recognise the light-hearted tone.

“Well… I do believe you’re right,” I joke as I turn around. “Who let me in?”

Charlie takes my face in his hands and I marvel at how young he looks.