The Bringer (10 page)

James unlocks the door and I step inside the wide hallway, my shoes tapping loudly against the oak floor amid the immediate quiet. And the warmth and safety of James’s home radiates over me, wrapping comfortingly all around me.

I cannot begin to describe how happy I feel, hardly able to believe that I’m actually going to be living here at James’ request. I have been here so many times, but obviously he is unaware of this. Now, I’m here because he wants me to be.

James slumps down awkwardly onto the sofa in the living room. He leans his crutches up beside him, reaches over and pulls the footstool before him and lifts his potted leg to rest on it.

And I’m just stood here gazing at him, remembering how he was sitting there the very first night I came to visit him, remembering the countless times I’ve sat next to him in that very spot back when I existed only for the dead.

He sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Okay,” he says sounding slightly breathless, “my bedroom is the one at the front.” He points his finger upwards at the ceiling. “So feel free to take any of the other two on that floor. I’ll show you upstairs in a bit if that’s okay? Journey home’s just done me in.” He lays his head back onto the sofa and glances up at me.

I take a seat on the chair across from him. “Don’t worry. I’ll find my way round just fine.” Of course I will. I’d know my way round this house blindfolded.

“
There is a bedroom up on the top floor with its own living area and bathroom. I’d offer you it but that was, erm . . . ” He pauses and rubs his eye with the palm of his hand. “Well it was my dad’s and he, erm – well he passed away recently and it’s still full of his stuff so. . . ” He looks down and shrugs.

“
I’m really sorry, James, about your – dad.” I have to stop myself from almost saying Max’s name.

“
Thanks.” He nods.

And it suddenly occurs to me – how would James feel if he knew the truth, if he knew I was the one who took Max to Heaven, that I was the one who took his father away from him? A sick feeling washes over me.

“
James.” He looks up at me and I can see the sadness he tries to hide, buried deep in his eyes I have to restrain myself from getting up and going over to him and wrapping my arms tightly around him. Once again knowing I’m partly to blame for his sorrow, I grip my fingers into the plush chair, momentarily distracted by the soft feeling. He lifts his questioning brows and now, forgetting what it was I was initially going to say, I say instead, “Just to have a place to stay is wonderful. Thank you again. It really is kind of you –”

He dismisses my words with his hand. “Like I said, I owe you, big time.”

James picks up the remote control and switches the television on. My eyes drift to it and I watch as he flicks through the channels. He finally settles on one. There’s a music video playing. As I listen, I hear the band’s singing about not going somewhere, or something – I’m not sure.

I glance at James to find his eyes on me. And that’s it, I’m hooked right into his gaze. And for those few seconds I can feel a charge buzzing off me, infusing me with such warmth, and feelings so intense, I can barely control them.

I force a blink, and when I open my eyes again, James’s is looking at the television. “I like this song,” I say, wanting to say something, anything, to cover the awkwardness I’ve probably just created.

“
Yeah, Oasis are awesome,” he says, turning the volume up slightly. “Especially this song, ‘Don’t Go Away’. It’s one of their best. Well, it is in my opinion anyway.” He smiles.

“
Oasis?”

His brows knit together. “Yeah – Oasis – the band that’s playing on the TV now.” He points to it with the remote control. “You never heard of them?”

I shake my head. Oasis? I thought that was an isolated area of vegetation in a desert which surrounds a spring, not a music band.

He looks surprised. “I thought everyone had heard of them.” A sceptical expression plays on his lips, and I worry that maybe I should have just said I had heard of them. But then music’s never really been of interest to me. I never got it before, never understood why humans love it so much, well not until I started feeling that is. And as I’ve recently discovered, music’s all about feeling. You have to feel the music, to understand it.

“
I saw them in concert a couple of years ago, not long before they split,” he enthuses. “They were amazing live.”

I nod. “Yes they seem – great. This song is – great –” I trail off.

He glances at me and laughs, then turns the volume lower as the song comes to an end, and asks, “Lucyna, do you have anything – I mean any clothes or belongings that you need to pick up from somewhere?”

I shake my head.

“
You don’t have anything?” He sounds astonished, and not in a good way.

“
No.” I wrap my arms around myself. “When I left – well – home – I kind of left in a hurry.” Which is pretty much the truth. “So, I only have these.” I trail my hand down my clothes.

He rubs his forehead. “Well you’re gonna need some stuff. Do you have any money?”

I shake my head.

“
No worries. I’ll lend you some till you get sorted so you can get some new clothes and things.”

“
Thank you,” I say, feeling abashed and not really understanding why I feel this way. “I will return the money as soon as I can,” knowing how essential money is to humans.

“
No rush,” he reassures me. “And you can’t stay in those, they need washing.” He points at the dirty marks on my clothes, forcing me to look down at the clothes that I somehow came to be wearing when I turned into this human-ish being. “You’ll have to borrow some of mine while you wash them. They’ll be too big for you, but they’ll have to do you for now. I’ll go get you some.” He reaches for his crutches.

“
Don’t get up. I’ll get them.” I shift forward in my seat. “Just tell me where your clothes are?”

He rests his crutches back down and says, “There’s some clean stuff in the dryer.” He points toward the hall. “Help yourself. Stick your clothes onto wash as well if you want whilst your there.”

I get up, and even though I know where the utility room is as I’ve seen James wash his clothes there many times, I still ask, “Whereabouts is it?”

“
Straight down the hall, through the kitchen, first door on your left.”

I end up wearing some black jogging trousers. I go for those as they have a drawstring on the waist which means I can tighten them to fit me, but the legs are trailing on the floor. And I pick out a black t-shirt with a motif on the front, which is also pretty big on me. I put my own clothes onto wash, recalling how I’ve seen James do it before, and then return to the living room.

He looks up as I enter. “Rolling Stones,” he says nodding at the t-shirt I’m wearing. “Good choice.” Then his eyes move down to my legs and he laughs. “Bit long for you. They need turning up.”

I look down at my hidden feet unsure as to what he means.

I glance up and catch the questioning in his stare, but all he says is, “Here.” He motions for me to go sit on the footstool beside his leg. He reaches down and cups my leg with his hand, lifting it to rest beside him, then begins turning up the hem of the trousers. And I’m frozen. I am literally afraid to move in case I do something stupid, something not in keeping with normal human behaviour, because currently my whole body feels like it’s going to explode from the touch of his hands on my skin.

He rests my leg down and motions for the other one. I lift it up without saying a word, curling my fingers around the edge of the stool for support, because now adjoining the explosive feeling, I’ve also got these little tiny bursts of energy that keep shooting up my leg each time his skin grazes against mine. I can feel my face growing hot.

“
All done.” His eyes meet mine. I hold his gaze for a moment then look away. I lower my leg back to the floor. “Thanks.”

He stretches his hands above his head, yawning, and rubs his eyes roughly.

“
You’re tired?”

“
Hmm. I am,” he says, sounding suddenly sleepy. “Sorry, I know it’s only early.”

“
Don’t be sorry. You’ve had quite a day. I’ll help you up to bed.”

It takes us a while, but we finally make it up the stairs and I see him to his room.

“
Thanks,” he says, leaning up against the door frame.

“
It’s no problem. I’m happy to help you.” I take a step back. “So I think I’ll go to my room and sleep too.”

“
Goodnight, Lucyna.”

“
Goodnight, James.”

I walk along the landing, heading toward the back of the house, knowing exactly which room I’m going to stay in. The one that provides the perfect view of his beautiful garden.

I shut the door behind me and go over to the window. The night’s drawing in, preparing to coat everything in its blackness. I look around the room, taking in just where I actually am.

I am in James’ house. He’s just down the hall from me. And he knows me, he actually knows me.

And I finally release the euphoria that this knowledge brings, the one I’ve been working so hard all day to contain, and I let it run through me with all its heavenly urgency, releasing the smile that wants to own my lips forever. I lie back onto the bed, and begin to replay my day with James over and over again in my mind.

Chapter 7

Cross Your Heart

I’ve been downstairs for hours as I’ve discovered I don’t sleep.

I haven’t slept since I became this – well – version of a human I’ve become. And I’ve already gathered that my new body doesn’t require other humanly functions to survive, as I’ve had absolutely no desire for food or drink. But I wasn’t sure about sleep. I didn’t know if my body would need to rest or not. As it turned out, it doesn’t. I did try. I laid on the bed and closed my eyes for quite some time, but nothing happened. And I haven’t had any signs of fatigue, as human’s do – no yawning or desire to stretch my body of any sort, and considering how long I’ve been awake, I surely would be tired by now if I was ever going to be.

So I just stayed in my room and wiled the hours away thinking about James, distracted by just how close he was to me. Then I read a book I found in my room. It was a new and joyous experience, and one I most certainly want to repeat. Some humans really do have a way with the written word. And finally I watched the sun rise.

Then, when it seemed like a reasonable hour for a human to arise after sleeping, I came downstairs.

I’ve being trying to think of ways I can help James today as he is partially incapacitated. The first thing I came up with was breakfast. Humans need to eat, and James doesn’t eat nearly enough, as I’ve seen, so I decided to make it for him.

I searched through the kitchen cupboards and found some cereal. Then I located bread, browned it in the toaster and, when it was ready, buttered it. Finally I prepared James’ coffee in his coffee machine, just as I’ve watched him do nearly every morning for the past three weeks.

I survey the kitchen table. It's all set up with the food and drink I’ve created, and I feel a sense of achievement. Toast, cereal and coffee. It looks enticing – I think.

“
Morning.” I hear James’s warm, husky voice come from behind me and turn to see him in the doorway surveying the table. “You didn’t have to do this.” He motions to the food. “Well, assuming some of it is for me.” He grins, standing there one arm resting on his crutch, the other raking his fingers through his dishevelled hair.

But I can’t answer. I can’t form words. And it’s not just because he looks glorious with his hair all messy and rumpled from sleep, his jogging bottoms that he’s cut up the leg to accommodate his pot hanging so loosely around his navel – no, that’s not what has clamped my mouth tightly shut and sent every particle of me into frenzy. No, it’s the fact that I can see from his navel all the way up to his broad expansive chest, his bare skin perfectly smooth, exposed here before me. I can’t take my eyes off him. I’ve never seen James, well – naked, before. I was always very respectful whilst I was here watching him, always departing when he would be about to undress.

He raises his brows in a question mark, forcing me to finally say, “Yes, of course it’s for you.” But my voice breaks, betraying me. I turn away, face flaming, and move over to the sink. I look up to see James watching my face in the reflection of the window. I look away.

He chuckles softly, then I register the sound of a chair scraping against the wooden floor as he pulls it out. “Thanks for this. You really didn’t have to.”

I turn back, lean up against the sink and desperately try not to stare at his chest – it’s harder than you’d think. “I wanted to.”

He smiles. “Well thanks. I really appreciate it.” He pours himself a coffee, takes a sip, and then tips the cup in my direction. “Coffee’s spot on. Cheers.”

I smile, glowing, happy I’ve pleased him. “You’re welcome.” I take a seat across from him at the table, noticing for the first time that the gauze on his forehead has gone. “You removed your gauze.” I touch my forehead in the equivalent spot to where his gauze used to be.