Sleep Peacefully (8 page)

“It’s
not stupid, Ryan,” I snap back at him, unable to hide the emotion from my
voice.“You know I’ve been having these dreams for a while, but this one was
different, then... I saw her.”

Ryan’s
head snaps up. “You didn’t mention that part to Matt,” he says, looking at me
like I’m crazy, and suddenly I feel crazy too.

I
shake my head. “I didn’t think he’d believe me. I saw her face, she was in the
mirror, in the hallway. It was dark and... it was her Ryan, I swear it was
her.”

Ryan
looks bewildered, “Okay, let me get this straight. So you’re telling me you believe
in ghosts now, and that our dead sister is trying to tell you that her husband
was up at Milton Point with her the night she died?” He sighs, tilting his head
towards the ceiling, then looks back at me, holding my eyes with his. “That’s
total Shit Nat, and you know it.”

I
try to say something, to defend myself in some way, but Ryan puts a hand up to
my face to silence me and continues talking.

“You
know he was wasted that night Nat, he was totally out of it. I was with him, he
could barely stand. He and Jess had argued. He’d been drinking all afternoon,”
says Ryan bluntly. “You really think he could have gotten himself all the way
to Milton Point to meet Jess?” He laughs sarcastically. “Ha, I doubt he even
knew his own name.”

“But
you weren’t with him
all
night, were you? You told the police you had
been, but you told me that you waited till he had gone to sleep, then left and
went back to your own apartment,” I yell back, my voice growing louder. I walk
to the other side of the room and shut the living room door in fear of Josh
overhearing our argument.

“Don’t
be ridiculous!” His voice is raised now. I sit back down and back myself
further into my seat, now feeling intimidated just by his presence.

“The
police questioned him and they found nothing. She killed herself, Nat. Matt
wasn’t there, no one provoked her. The sooner we all come to terms with that
fact the sooner we can all move on with our lives.”

The
words come out of his mouth hastily. I see the look of horror hit his face, as
he realises what he has just said to me.

“What
do you mean she killed herself?” I ask. I’ve surely misunderstood what he said.

Ryan
crosses the room and crouches down in front of me so that his face is level
with mine. He takes my hand and holds it lightly in his.

“There
was a witness. A local woman. She was walking her dog along the cliff tops at
Milton Point that night. She saw Jess up there standing near the edge of the
cliff, looking extremely upset. The woman said she seemed distraught. She
called the police and told them her concern, but by the time the police got
there it was too late.” He pauses and takes a deep, shaky breath. “Jess was
alone that night, no one was there with her. I don’t think she slipped at all
Nat, the police think she jumped, and so do I. She purposely jumped.”

I
stand and circle the living room as if I’m trying to find an exit, an escape
route of some sort, to flee from what my brother has just told me. Eventually,
I give up and sink back down into the sofa, in the exact same spot that I had
left only seconds ago.

“But
the police said... it, it was an accident,” I stammer.

Ryan
nods, and rubs his thumb across the top of my knuckles; his touch is warm, his
skin rough. I can smell the strong scent of leather coming from his jacket,
accompanied by the fainter smell of petrol fumes.

“I
was at Mum’s house when they came with the post-mortem results. They said that
there was no alcohol in her system, the toxicology report had come back
negative, no booze, no drugs. She was stone cold sober the night she died. Mum
didn’t tell you because it was easier just to let you believe it was an
accident. She asked me not to say anything to anyone and I haven’t... well, not
till now. It was easier to let everyone believe it was an accident.”

“But
the police said that she fell... that she was drunk.”

“No,
the police told Mum they thought she
could
have been drunk. They hadn’t
completed any tests at that point, it was purely speculation.”

I
stay silent with disbelief for a few moments, before I continue.

“But
there was no note. If she was going to commit suicide wouldn’t she leave a
note?”

“Not
necessarily, not if she hadn’t planned it before she got up there.”

I
shake my head at him, in denial.

“Come
on Nat, think about it. Jess knew those cliffs better than anyone we know. She
wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t have allowed herself to get that close to the
edge.” He hesitates a few seconds. “Not unless she wanted to.”

The
room is spinning, and my hands are shaking like mad. I’m trying hard to
regulate my breathing, but my heart is hammering against my rib cage so hard
that it’s virtually impossible.

“Please,
don’t hate me for telling you this Nat, but Matt is innocent in all this. He’s
as hurt and upset as the rest of us.”

I
wipe at my eyes, which are now streaming with tears that I can’t control. Ryan
leaves me and returns with a box of tissues, handing me one. I don’t take it. I
can't move.

For
nine months now, Mum and Ryan have kept this from me, from everyone. I don’t
want to believe that it’s true. But why had she done it? I know that she and
Matt were having problems, but I thought that it was just a blip, that they’d
be back on track in no time. I know that she still missed Dad, but assumed she
was starting to come to terms with his death. Had Jess’s last thoughts been
filled with loneliness and anger? Why didn’t she talk to anyone, why didn’t she
tell me how she was feeling? Were things really so bad that she had to take her
own life? I don’t understand.

I
suddenly feel claustrophobic, and lurch forward towards where Ryan is still
crouched in front of me. I use his left shoulder to steady myself, rising
entirely to my feet, not knowing where I am heading and begin to stagger around
the room in a daze. Eventually, I fix my gaze on Dan’s liquor cabinet in the
corner of the room, where he stores his extensive whiskey collection. I quickly
move over to it and rip open the door, pulling out the first bottle that my
hand makes contact with. I glance at the label, identifying it as his most
expensive bottle of double malt, the one he keeps only for special occasions. I
pour a more than generous sized measure into a crystal tumbler and throw it
down my neck. It tastes revolting. When the instant gratification doesn’t hit
as I had intended, I presume the whole bottle is a better option and pick up
the glass, preparing to fill it up again.

“I’m
so sorry, Nat.” Ryan quickly moves over to where I stand and takes the empty
glass from my hand. He sets it on the cabinet top and leads me away. His voice
seems distant as I furiously try to return my wandering mind back into the
room.

“I
kept it from everyone because I know that we all felt so guilty already over
losing her, and this might make it worse. Especially with you and Matt. I haven’t
even told Lola.” His voice is full of sadness.

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.

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 for 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.