The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) (22 page)

Her body felt warm and familiar, an addiction I hadn’t indulged in for many years. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the beat of her heart fluttering against my chest. I suddenly realised that it was something I had taken for granted when I was alive. To feel the beat of someone else’s heart was now a novelty to me, a luxury that was restricted by time. I pressed my head to her chest and felt it move as she breathed in and out. Her heartbeat was strong and had increased in tempo since I’d shifted position. Her breathing had also become heavy and I listened to the sweet sound, an indication of life. I kissed her through the thin blouse she was wearing, in the location of her beating heart. I looked into her eyes before kissing her again. I felt her hands go up to her chest and fiddle with the buttons of her blouse.

“Are you sure?” I whispered in her ear.

She answered by taking my hand and gently pulling me towards the bedroom. I followed without resistance and closed the door on a bewildered-looking Snoop.

 

I brushed Lucy’s hair with my fingers as she slept, her lips curled in a slight smile as her ribcage moved steadily up and down. Light from the window above lit her face and highlighted her cheekbones, giving her an angelic appearance. I watched her for what felt like minutes but when she finally woke the clock on the wall revealed that it had been hours.

Her sleep was interrupted by the faint sound of Snoop scratching at the door and she smiled at me as she stretched her arms above her head, causing the duvet to shift position, revealing the smooth skin of her torso. I listened for any signs of life outside the treehouse. Apart from birdsong and the faint sound of a helicopter as it passed overhead, the treehouse was quiet, peaceful even.

After Lucy had found her bearings I decided it was time to answer any questions she might have. Her first question was about the afterlife. She wanted a description and asked whether I’d met God. I described my previous home to her in detail as well as my encounter with her cousin Gilly. Tears rolled down her face once more as she realised that they would one day be reunited. I told her that Gilly could see her that she was watching over her and had secretly rejoiced with us on the day of our engagement. Lucy smiled as I told her about Timmy, how I thought of him as my own son and how I had helped him conquer his fears. I told her stories about my brother Robert and she was astonished to hear about him.

“You have a second family, it would seem.”

“I do and I’m grateful for it, but there were days during those five years that were the hardest I’ve ever experienced.”

“Why?” she asked innocently.

“Regret,” I said simply. “My mind was filled with thoughts of you, memories of my old life, and rather than living in paradise it often felt like torture to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said, and kissed my cheek tenderly.

“It’s my own fault. I don’t know why I ever left you that night.”

“You wanted to celebrate with your friend.” She looked at me with affection. “I know what you hid from me – Russ’s feelings towards me,” she explained. “I know you knew about it and I know why you didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t my place. I just wanted him to be happy… I still want that.”

“He seems happy with Erin.” She paused and added, “Will you tell him who you really are?”

“I can’t. He’s so stubborn and closed-minded, there’s no chance of him ever believing me.”

Lucy nodded in silent agreement.

“I’ve enjoyed my time with him lately,” I said. “Sometimes it’s as if I never left.”

“I’m glad. He did seem to warm to you quickly, which is unusual for Russ. He usually hates everybody.”

“Especially anyone who’s spending long periods of time with you.” I grinned at her.

“Maybe.” She smiled before her expression turned serious.

“The woman in the restaurant earlier. It was Adam’s wife, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I recognised her from the Folk Festival.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed in thought as silence washed over us once more.

“You’re trying to fix his marriage, aren’t you?”

“It’s the least I can do for him.”

“That’s such a Charlie thing to do.” She smiled. “I’m sorry for the things I said earlier.”

“You didn’t know. I don’t blame you for being upset with me.”

She hugged me to her tightly and I kissed her forehead. Beneath the euphoria that washed over me came the sharp blow of reality as I realised that my time with Lucy was running out. The dread I felt increased in intensity until my stomach felt queasy.

As the evening wore on and the sun began its descent, Lucy and I picked up where we’d left off five years ago and before long we had slotted back into each other’s lives. I cooked Lucy a pancake supper, which we ate on the balcony beneath the stars while we listened to a local owl vocalise its woes. We talked all evening, with our limbs intertwined and an old blanket wrapped around us. Memories of our past, as well as moments we’d missed were our favoured subjects. By the time we entered the bedroom again it was gone midnight.

I hadn’t realised I’d drifted off to sleep until I found Lucy shaking me awake in an urgent manner.

“You can’t stay here.” She sounded panicked.

“Why not?” I croaked as the light from a nearby lamp burned my eyes.

“Russ will turn up in the morning. I’ve just realised that he’s coming to fix the shower. I mentioned it to him days ago. I can’t believe I forgot.” She shook her head at her own forgetfulness. “The sun will be up soon and he’s coming before work,” she said while throwing my clothes at me.

I groaned. “Some things never change.”

“Trust me, it’s not worth the hassle if he finds you here.”

“I know,” I sighed heavily.

Before I left I pulled her to me roughly and kissed her. I even dipped her low to the floor as I’d observed in old films.

“How will I ever get to sleep now?” she joked.

“Not my problem,” I replied before she pushed me out of the door.

Chapter Nineteen

The next morning I awoke in a lingering haze caused by a dream I’d had the night before. I was in the treehouse instead of the cottage. I lay in Lucy’s bed as she lay next to me. The sound of her peaceful breathing filled the small room and I stroked her hair as she slept. The sun streamed in from the window in the roof and highlighted the array of colours in her thick, mahogany hair. I whispered in her ear that it was time to wake up. There was no response, not even the flutter of an eyelash. I placed my hands on her shoulders and shook her gently while calling out her name. Her body slumped on the bed without moving. I placed my hands beneath her arms and pulled her into a sitting position. Her head lolled to one side and her eyes remained closed. I started to panic and as the hysteria began to rise in my chest I awoke with a start.

I looked around the room and took in the furniture. I saw the clothes I had worn the night before, carelessly abandoned on the floor, and realised where I was. However, the realisation brought me no comfort and an uneasy feeling still lurked deep in the pit of my stomach. I looked at the clock by the bed. It read 6:36. Lucy was still on my mind and I had a sudden urge to see her.

I jumped on the bike and pedalled fast into the harsh wind that whipped at my face. The dream was still fresh in my mind and spurred me on. The roads were quiet and I made good time.

When I arrived Russ was already there. He was banging on the front door angrily as he shouted Lucy’s name. He turned around when he heard me arrive.

“Have you spoken to Lucy today?” he asked worriedly.

“No. Maybe she’s in the treehouse.” I assumed she had gone back to sleep after my abrupt departure.

“Why hasn’t she heard me shouting to her? I’m not exactly subtle,” Russ mumbled as we made our way over there. When he tried the door it was unlocked. It was unusual for Lucy to be so lax with security, especially after the distressing footage the security tapes had revealed a week ago.

When we pushed the door open we were presented with a ferocious-looking Snoop. His low growl caused us to step back in unison while he continued to bare his teeth. It was only when he heard Russ’s voice that he began to relax slightly. We climbed the stairs and he stayed by our side, watching us carefully with his hackles still raised. Clearly something had startled him.

When we entered the lounge I saw the Steiff
bear lying haphazardly on the floor in the same position Lucy had left it. As we moved around the room I saw Russ’s eyes linger on another object that lay on the floor. It was Lucy’s blouse, the one I had slipped off her slender shoulders the night before. I stared at the floor as the heat rose in my cheeks and prayed that he didn’t notice my sudden embarrassment.

Russ jogged towards the bedroom, repeatedly calling Lucy’s name. As I got to the doorway I caught a glimpse of her. She was on the bed with the sheets wrapped around her. Russ hovered over her and tapped her cheek softly with the back of his hand. She was unresponsive. I pushed him out of the way and lifted her eyelids to reveal her pupils while checking her pulse. As I counted the beats, I realised how serious the situation was.

“Call an ambulance, tell them we have a suspected overdose.”

“An overdose? What makes you so sure?” Russ asked gruffly.

“Her pupils are dilated and her heartbeat is irregular.”

While Russ was on the phone I searched the room for any indication of pharmaceuticals. I found an empty packet on the bedside table. Russ peered over my shoulder as I read it.

“Clomipramine,” he read. “An anti-depressant.”

“Did you know Lucy was taking anti-depressants?”

“I asked her weeks ago and she said she didn’t need to take them. She seemed happy, so I believed her.”

Lucy didn’t seem suicidal when I left her, nor had she spoken of ending her life. I had previously thought that any chance of her committing suicide was slim but now I had to wonder whether this series of events had been caused by me. Was it my fault? Did I cause this? Had I revealed too much to her?

I remembered God’s warning and a sudden realisation of the reason for his concern hit me. He knew how fragile Lucy was and had predicted how she would act. He was trying to save her soul. I should have warned her, explained to her the consequences of taking her own life. I should have made it clear to her that it was not accepted in the afterlife.

When the ambulance arrived Russ and I stood back and watched helplessly as paramedics attended to Lucy. I felt helpless as I watched complete strangers attach medical equipment to her body while the paramedics asked me questions I didn’t know the answer to. I risked a glance at Russ and saw that his expression reflected my own emotions. We stood in silence, numb from watching the scene unfold in front of us.

A stretcher was brought in and as Lucy was lifted on to it I overheard a conversation between two paramedics. They were discussing whether they would need to pump her stomach.

`“Is it an overdose?” I asked.

“Looks that way,” the male paramedic replied in a detached manner.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” his female colleague said as they began to move the stretcher towards the door.

“Will she be OK?” Russ asked.

“We don’t know yet, she needs to see a doctor.”

Russ made his way towards the stretcher and held Lucy’s hand. I stayed close behind him.

“I’m afraid only one person can travel in the ambulance with her,” the female paramedic said as she glanced from Russ to myself, obviously trying to determine our relationship with Lucy. Russ glanced at me but I already knew that he would be the one to travel in the ambulance.

“I’ll go with her,” he stated.

“I’ll take her car.”

Before he left, Russ asked me to lock up. I took this as my opportunity to have a quick look around and uncover any clues to Lucy’s mental state. I began my investigation in the lounge. Apart from certain objects that suggested the previous night’s events, nothing seemed out of the ordinary so I quickly moved on to the bedroom. Almost immediately I noticed something that had previously escaped my attention. Resting on a chest of drawers was a sheet of writing paper. From where I stood I could see a short message written in black pen that stood out vividly against the white paper.

 

To all of those who care for me,

I feel I should offer some sort of explanation for my actions, I’ve been contemplating suicide for some time now: Jamie was everything to me and I just can’t bear the thought of living without him. Therefore I have made the agonising decision to join him in the next life.

To all who care for me, I must say that I’m truly sorry for what I am about to do. I hope you can forgive me.

Lucy

 

I read the note again and almost expected the clumsily written words to change, to form a message that made sense, or at least reflected any part of the Lucy I knew. I agonised over the note, reading it repeatedly to myself.

I found Lucy’s keys in a drawer in her reading room and made my way to her parked car after locking the door to the treehouse. Before I left I ensured that Snoop had food and water and then placed him in the crate that served as his bed. He walked in without resistance and curled up on the soft fleece that lined it.

When I got to the hospital I found Russ sitting in the waiting area. His face looked drawn and the lines on his forehead betrayed his worry.  

“Hey, bud,” he said, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Any news?” I asked, taking a seat next to him.

“Not much, they’re pumping out her stomach.”

I nodded and tried to think of the right thing to say but words failed me. I picked up a fitness magazine and began flicking through it. I pretended to read the articles while my mind was preoccupied with Lucy and the suicide note. I had many questions spinning in my head. If someone had set Lucy up, how did they get her to take the tablets when she must have known they could kill her? How long had she been unconscious?

I began to feel the walls closing in and it became suddenly hard to breathe. In an effort to calm myself I got up and started to pace the waiting room. I clasped my hands in an attempt to disguise their trembling. Russ glanced my way but said nothing. He stared straight ahead at a poster on the wall opposite. His whole body was slumped in defeat and I began to worry about his mental state too.

A middle-aged man in a white coat approached us. I shook his hand. It was only when the man cleared his throat that Russ snapped out of his daze and stood up with a start. His eyes were no longer glazed over and the light had returned to them.

“Any news?” he asked the doctor as I joined their group.

“The procedure was successful. Lucy’s stomach has been pumped and her heartrate is back to normal. It appears she has been lucky. If you hadn’t found her when you did there’s a good chance she would’ve slipped into a coma.”

I placed a hand on Russ’s shoulder as he exhaled all his worry and torment in one long breath. The doctor smiled at him sympathetically.

“She’s just starting to wake up. You can go and see her now.”

I followed Russ to the ward. Every bed was full and I suddenly found myself thinking of my mother and all the hours she’d put into helping others as a nurse. The many times I’d blamed her for being late home when I was a child, oblivious to the fact that there were many patients who relied on her care. As I gazed in shock at the beds that were full with the sick and vulnerable, I realised how selfish I had been.

Lucy’s bed came into view. Her arms lay still by her sides in an unnatural manner and her eyes stared at the ceiling. Her body was propped up on a mountain of pillows in a way that was supposed to be comfortable and looked anything but. Russ dived into the nearby chair and spoke to her in a whisper; his voice was so low I couldn’t make out what he was telling her. Lucy stared back at him with glassy eyes. I stood at the foot of the bed and watched as her eyes swivelled to meet mine. Just when I thought I saw a hint of recognition in them, her lids grew heavy and closed in a gentle slumber.

“I’ll go and find some water for when she wakes up,” Russ said before getting out of the chair.

When he left I took his place beside the bed. I held one of Lucy’s slender hands in mine and wondered how so much could change in such a short space of time. It had only been a few hours since we had said our goodbyes.

My eyes scoured the room and rested on a family crowded in by a figure lying in a bed. A woman in her forties stifled her sobs in a tissue while her husband rubbed her shoulders, desperate to hold things together. A young girl of around ten sat on the bed and stroked the patient’s long blonde hair. They looked so similar that I could only presume they were sisters. When the doctor came, he spoke to the family in a hushed tone and I gathered by the woman’s reaction that it was bad news. After I realised I was intruding on a private moment, I turned my attention to my own loved one and my own source of worry.

Lucy began to groan as she stirred in her sleep.

“Lucy?” I said softly.

Her head lolled to one side before she opened her eyes.

“Charlie.”

She blinked repeatedly.

“It’s me, Luce.”

“I was dreaming of you… am I still dreaming?”

Her voice sounded groggy and hoarse.

“No. You’re wide awake now.” I smiled.

“Will I be OK?”

“According to the doctor you’ll be fine,” I said, trying to sound positive. “Do you remember anything?”

Her brow furrowed as she tried to answer my question.

“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “It might come back to you later. You’ve been through a lot today, you need rest.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember anything past last night.” Her brow furrowed again and she tried to sit up. “Why can’t I remember anything? What happened to me?” She looked around. “Why am I here?”

Her voice was laced with panic. I grabbed her hand again and kissed her knuckles in an attempt to calm her.

“You’ve had your stomach pumped. Russ and I found you unconscious.”

“Why? Did I have an allergic reaction? Was it the pancakes from last night?

“No,” I said gently, “they found antidepressants in your system.”

She stared at the ceiling as she took in what I was saying.

“But I don’t take them… I don’t need them. “

“I know. I believe you, Luce.”

“But I’m not allergic to antidepressants. Why would they need to pump my stomach?”

“Because you had over the recommended amount in your bloodstream. It caused you to fall unconscious.”

“An overdose?” she asked loudly.

I looked around the ward to see if anyone had heard her. As I did I saw Russ returning with a jug of water.

“Don’t say anything to Russ about this. OK?”

She nodded and I let her hand drop.

“There you are, Luce, I brought you some water.”

“Thank you,” she replied as Russ poured her a glass.

“Good to see you’re awake. How do you feel?”

“I’m OK, I’m not in pain. Just uncomfortable on all these pillows,” she said, pulling one from beneath her and tossing it on the floor.

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