The Life and Afterlife of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 1) (15 page)

I smirked as I watched Lucy take a step back. She’d never liked people to get into her personal space; she called them space invaders.  It was probably the first time Russ's trick had failed.

My happiness was short-lived. Lucy began laughing again as Russ directed the full force of his charm at her.   They were surrounded by a small group of lads all ogling her keenly.  These people had grown up with Lucy. Why were they only noticing her now?

The makeup, the sophisticated hairstyle, the tight-fitting dress… all of these things had piqued their interest.  And yet all of these things were not Lucy.  Even if she were dressed in dirty overalls and her silly mud-riddled wellies, with a makeup-free face and her hair in disarray, she would still be the most interesting and beguiling individual I'd ever laid eyes on. 

I felt anger bubbling just below the surface.  My temples began to throb and my hands began to shake as my body tried to deal with the overwhelming emotions I was feeling.

Time for me to leave.

I headed towards the door without so much as a glance in Lucy's direction.  The need to look at her was so strong that it took all my strength to keep my eyes directed straight ahead, without turning back.

The cold air blasted my warm skin and I instantly regretted leaving the heated marquee. My cheeks stung and my ears throbbed but I wasn’t ready to go home.  Wandering round the village while intoxicated always was a weakness of mine.

I made my way past a row of stone cottages that appeared lifeless and deserted now that their occupants had retired to bed. It was the witching hour. 

There was definitely something spooky about the village after dark; it could almost be a ghost town.  An owl called in the distance and the eerie sound floated back to me.  I took in my surroundings, telling myself it was best I sobered up before I went home and this was my reason for lingering in the cold night air.  In fact, I was waiting for Lucy to appear, ready to protect her from any harm.

I looked up at the sky while I leant against a garden wall. The stone was cold against my back and once again I longed for the heat of an open fire. Snow started coming down in fat, floating flakes and it wasn’t long before I became mesmerised by the beauty of the scene before me.  Snowfall always made everything seem so clean and pure.

I drank in the familiar view of the green and the river beyond being transformed by a soft layer of white. I felt as if I had entered a secret world, a lonely one devoid of any of the familiar sounds of human life. It was almost like being trapped in one of the snow globes I remembered from my childhood.  The perfect picturesque village encased in protective glass.  No escape and nowhere to hide.

I felt the familiar crush of suffocation that I had been experiencing for the past few months.  I had an overwhelming urge to escape the constant scrutiny and censure that came from living at close quarters with other people in a small community, but at the same time I felt an overpowering duty to stay.  I loved the village and felt lucky to have grown up in such a tranquil environment, but recently I couldn't get the idea that I had outgrown it out of my mind.  Should I stay and live with the constant reminder that the village no longer contained the love of my life, or should I leave in an attempt to move on and risk upsetting my beloved parents?

I don’t know how long I stood there.  I looked up as a group of revellers erupted from the marquee in a burst of loud noise.  They were singing in squeaky, high-pitched voices and pushing each other around.  They were a group of lads and lasses of about Lucy's age and it was easy to see that they'd all had too much to drink.  I watched as a female member of their group walked straight into a bench and fell to the ground. Her disloyal friends stood around laughing raucously as she tried to stumble to her feet.

The laughter faded as the entire group moved on, leaving behind the uncoordinated, greatly intoxicated and therefore most vulnerable member of their party.  I shook my head in disgust.  Nobody cared enough about this girl to ensure she got home safely.  It was unnerving to watch her stumble around in the dark and I decided to keep a watchful eye on her while she attempted to catch up with her wretched excuses for friends.  I spied them on the other side of the old, crumbling bridge.  Its five arches cast faint shadows on the swelling black water beneath.

I followed the girl as she swayed unsteadily in the direction of the bridge.

The village was poorly lit at night and pavements were hard to make out, not to mention large stretches of treacherous, freezing cold water.  No barriers were erected along the riverbank.

I rubbed my arms in an attempt to warm them.  One advantage of staying out in the sharp winter air was that it had sobered me up. I watched as the stranger slipped on the icy pavement in her black stiletto heels. Her carefully styled hair had now come loose and wispy strands were blowing in the wind. 

It was obvious her destination lay over the bridge. Perhaps she lived in one of the rows of houses on that side or maybe she was getting a lift home with a friend who had parked on the nearby field.  I thought it my duty to follow her at least till she was safe inside her house or had caught up with her friends.  I also wanted to make sure she had no intention of getting behind a wheel.

Her open toe, high-heeled shoes crunched on the rock salt that had been scattered on the bridge by some considerate soul and the sound echoed in the still air.  She wasn’t wearing a jacket and I doubted the long, black dress she was wearing gave any protection from the biting cold.  It had obviously not crossed her mind to bring a coat this evening. She was either stupid or too lazy to carry it.  What was it with girls and their aversion to coats? 

I pulled my own tightly around me, thankful that I’d had the sense to bring it, unlike macho man Russ who always seemed to have something to prove.  I focused on her face and endeavoured to find out if it was one I recognised.  Her long hair came loose once more and whipped around her, providing a protective screen that prevented me from identifying her.  She stumbled on to the rough stone surface of the bridge. Her hip slammed into one wall and she tried to steady herself, only to stumble into the wall on the other side, no doubt giving herself a matching bruise on the other hip.

I was only a few yards away from her but she remained completely oblivious to my presence.  I watched in complete bewilderment as further groups of revellers passed her without showing an ounce of concern or even casting a worried glance her way.  They were too absorbed in their own conversations even to notice someone in need of help. 

She paused halfway across the bridge and leant over the side. She stared down at the deep, black water, sluggish with ice and eerily still in the moonlight.  She extended both arms in front of her as if to reach out to her own reflection.  The clear sky with its abundance of bright stars looked particularly beautiful that night.  The girl seemed oblivious to them.  She raised her feet off the ground and stood on tiptoes leaning out even further over the side of the bridge.

She stared fixedly into the water and I wondered if she was still focusing on her reflection or something else entirely.  What was she seeing?  
Freedom?
  The thought came out of nowhere and I pushed it from my mind at once, wondering why my subconscious had summoned it.   As I watched, she bent at the waist and dangled her arms down towards the water, almost as if reaching out to it, welcoming its icy embrace.

I had seen enough. This girl was a danger to herself and I needed to intervene before she did something completely reckless.  I jogged over to her. She had changed  position and now sat with her legs dangling over the side of the wall, swaying dangerously back and forth, her hair whipping around her head in the icy wind.  One shoe hung off her foot and wobbled every time the girl shuddered with the cold.

“Hello?” I said.

She seemed startled by my voice and visibly started.  This caused the precariously balanced shoe to drop into the murky water a few feet below.

She had her back to me as I approached and seemed completely oblivious to my presence.  I could have been anyone, my intentions could have been far from favourable, but luckily for her I was here to protect her.  I put my hand on her shoulder and explained that she was in danger of falling into the water if she stayed where she was.  I explained that I was going to help her find her friends.  The girl turned around then, her previously unidentifiable features now suddenly clear and familiar.  Green, almond-shaped eyes stared back at me with an emptiness in them that made me want to wrap her in my arms and protect her from all harm.

"Lucy?" I said.

Chapter Thirteen

She stared at me wordlessly. Her eyelids drooped and I wondered if she had understood what I had told her just moments before.  I put both hands on her waist and lifted her off the parapet wall effortlessly. I could feel her ribs through her dress.

Almost immediately Lucy started to flail around and swat at my hands that were still around her, keeping her steady.  It was apparent she was not at all grateful for my heroic act of rescue. In fact, she was furious about it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she spat.

I stared at her in complete amazement.  Lucy hated swear words and this was the first time I'd heard her use one.  I couldn’t make sense of this complete change in personality.

"Saving you from yourself," I explained with a calmness that did not come easily, "You've had too much to drink, you look like hell and its bloody freezing,” I said sternly while taking off my coat and putting it around her shoulders. “You can't stay here, Luce, it’s dangerous."

Her eyelids drooped again and she swayed slightly as she tried to focus her eyes on my face. She held up both palms in protest, the gesture caused her to lose balance and she lurched backwards.

"Leave me alone," she slurred.

I tried hard to stay calm. She was obviously very drunk.  Maybe she didn't recognise me.  In any case my main priority was getting her out of the cold to somewhere safe.  Her parents would be livid if they saw her in this state.  I decided to take her home with me, my parents wouldn't mind her staying the night.  They loved her like a daughter and would not want her in any danger.  I focused on getting Lucy's attention.

"Look at me, Luce."

"How do you know my name?"

"It's Charlie... remember?  Charlie Brackwood?"

She looked confused for a second, but she was at least listening to me, which was something.

"Childhood-friend-Charlie?  I taught you how to swim, and to ride a bike?"

Her expression changed from one of bewilderment to recognition and she nodded slowly.

"I'm going to take you home with me, Luce. You need to sleep this off before your parents see you.” I put one arm around her shoulders to steady her.  This time she did not fight me and we made our way to my house with some intermittent groaning coming from Lucy. 

When her nausea became too much we would stop and I would hold her hair back from her face. Her pallor and the dark circles round her eyes were cause for concern to me. She was also mumbling things that made no sense and I was relieved when we finally made it to my front door.

I headed straight for the kitchen and sat Lucy down at the enormous oak table my parents had inherited from my great-grandfather.  I gave Lucy a glass of water in an attempt to sober her up.  She took small sips as I watched attentively.     

She began shivering again even though the house was warm from the fire that had been burning in the hearth all day.  The embers were still glowing with an orange light that made the kitchen appear warm and inviting.  I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around her. She looked at me wide-eyed.

"How are you doing now, Luce?"

She inspected the kitchen floorboards for a while before replying.

"I'm so embarrassed."

I crouched down in front of her and held her freezing hands in mine.  Intermittent shivers still wracked her and I rubbed her hands and arms vigorously to increase the blood flow.  Only when I looked up did I realise that she had been watching me.  Her expression held a mixture of desperation and despair so powerful that it rendered me speechless.  What had happened to the sweet girl I once knew, the one who, no matter how bad things got, could still see the positive in any situation?

"What happened, Luce?  You're not usually a big drinker, why did you get into this state?"

I could see her eyes fill with tears as she looked up at me from beneath her long, black eyelashes.  I felt overwhelmed with sadness for her and swallowed back a lump that had formed in my throat. When I saw the first tear fall I held both of her hands to my lips and silently kissed them. 

"I don't know... everything's changed," she sighed.

"What do you mean?"

She looked down at the floor again and closed her eyes tightly, which caused more tears to escape.  I squeezed her hands and stroked the hair from her face in an attempt to reassure her.  I waited patiently while she attempted to calm herself.

"My dear old mum and dad... the people in my life who are supposed to set a good example... are getting a divorce.  And although I could see it coming,” she flashed me a sad, lop-sided grin, “it's yet another thing to deal with in my disappointing little life."

Sensing her need for release, I listened to her without making any interruptions.  I was glad she was opening up to me, it made me feel close to her again, and for the time being I was just happy being her friend.

"University is hard, I'm struggling there.  I'm homesick... I'm... I’m desperately trying to fit in.” 

She paused, eyes still averted from me.  I pulled the blanket tighter around her in a bid to offer comfort.

“So…” She sighed and took a deep breath before starting again. “I'm drinking a lot... missing lectures... most of the time I’m so wrecked I don't know what day it is."

I clasped her hands tighter and closed my eyes as I rested my forehead on our intertwined hands

"Luce," I whispered.

"I'm failing my courses... disappointing my lecturers.  All due to my drinking and... well...  other recreational activities."

I let go of her hands, shocked by what she was suggesting.

"What do you mean, 'other recreational activities'?"

She looked completely dejected by what she was saying.

"Let's just say, I have a penchant for the type of white powder that doesn't fall from the sky."

My mouth fell open and I stood up swiftly.  I fought hard to contain my anger and tried to stay as calm as possible but I had to turn away from Lucy to prevent her from seeing the expression of disappointment on my face.

"I don't know what to say, Lucy." I spoke through clenched teeth as I stared at the opposite wall where my mother had hung framed black-and-white picture of my parents’ wedding day, happy and carefree. 

The mood of the picture couldn’t have been more different from the atmosphere in the room.  I sighed in frustration and turned around slowly to face Lucy.

She looked back at me with an expression of hopelessness on her face.

"Tell me what you really think.  Tell me you're disappointed in me.  Tell me I'm an embarrassment.  Tell me I'm a stupid, ungrateful bitch who is undeserving of your friendship.  I know what you think of me and I know what I am..."

Her chin fell to her chest and she started to sob silently.  The blanket I had wrapped around her fell further off her shoulders with each sob.  She looked so small and frail. For the first time that night I noticed how thin her arms had become and how her collarbone protruded sharply through her skin and I remembered feeling her ribs when we’d danced earlier in the evening.  Her cheeks had lost their roundness and her eyes appeared sunken and tired. The dark circles cleverly disguised with makeup were now visible through the tracks of Lucy’s tears.  Slowly I raised her chin with my finger and studied her face. 

"Look at me, Luce," I demanded softly.

She shook her head slightly, eyes still fixed on the floor.

"Please," I whispered.

She took a deep breath and slowly raised her lovely, tear-filled eyes to mine.

"You are my oldest friend... someone I care deeply about... so deeply.” My voice cracked slightly. “You are also someone who needs my help.  Please let me help you, Lucy."

Her entire body shook as she attempted to control the force of her emotions.

"I don't want to drag you down with me," she whispered, so faintly that I barely heard her.

I shook my head in frustration.  Lucy never would accept help.

"Please let me help you," I repeated.

"Why?"

"Because I can’t bear to see the pain in your eyes ... let me fix this for you."

"I am unfixable."

"Nothing’s unfixable. You just need to get your cogs in order, that's all," I said with a half smile.

"I'm a bad person, Charlie, I'm bad for you."

"Why would you say that?"

I didn’t like where this was going.  The old Lucy would never have said such a thing.

"I can't live up to this perfect creature you've made of me in your head."

I felt my shoulders slump in desperation. How would I ever make her see what I saw in her?  I knelt on the floor in front of her.  Taking her head in my hands, I leant in so that our foreheads touched.  Her skin felt soft under my touch and a strand of her hair caught in the stubble on my chin.  I tucked it back behind her ear as I stared deep into her green eyes.

"Who says I made her up?"

She pushed me away.

"Trust me, you don't want me as a friend.  My head is too messed up."

Lucy got to her feet abruptly, letting the blanket fall to the floor.  I didn’t understand. I knew I could help her, why wouldn’t she let me?  I hated the way she was pushing me away, I felt helpless, and the worst part of it was that I didn’t know how to rectify the situation.  It was horrible feeling so powerless. 

"Luce, I don't understand."

She sighed and looked down at the floor while she ran her fingers through her dishevelled hair. Finally she met my eyes. The expression in hers was apologetic. 

"Russ kissed me tonight."