The Life and Afterlife of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 1) (18 page)

I felt desperate and pathetic but I couldn’t live without knowing whether I’d see Lucy again.  She was life itself to me.  His expression was sorrowful and I wondered how many people before me had asked Him this question.

"I'm sorry, Charlie, that kind of information is highly confidential. You are also assuming the likelihood of her transferring to this life is high. How do you know she won't end up in another world altogether?"

"Are you saying she is destined for another place?"

"I am saying that making assumptions is never a good thing in a place like this."

"Can you tell me when her time is up?"

"I cannot," He said kindly.

"Do you know the answer to my question?"

"Charlie, what would happen if I answered the questions of everybody who came to see me?"

I shook my head in frustration. This was not going to plan.  Why wouldn't He give me a straight answer?  I was getting frustrated and had started to feel like a puzzle piece in a game He was playing.

"They would generally go away feeling better after you had answered a question that was causing them distress," I said sarcastically, my impatience starting to show.

"No. They would conspire against me."

I looked at him, feeling confused by this answer.

"How?"

"You see, nothing is set in stone when it comes to immortality. You are in control of your own destiny; the afterlife you wish to live in after you are gone is in your own hands.  Therefore, it is dependent on your behaviour and actions on Earth.  Of course, this means that where you are destined after you pass over can change many times throughout the course of your life.  So if I answered questions about loved ones and they subsequently chose the wrong path, which would inevitably change their destiny in the great beyond, I would be punished by desperate people seeking to hear only good news about their loved ones.  I would become a victim of their anger, and pandemonium would ensue."

"You can't just tell me how long I have to wait?"

"I cannot."

"Why?"

"Please respect my rules, Charlie, they are in place to protect you. Besides, I cannot show favour to certain individuals."

I stood stock still for a while. The disappointment I felt at his answer was immense and some of the darkness that had lifted seeped back into my veins.  I turned to leave before anger made me say something I might later regret.

"Charlie?"

I turned around to look into the eyes of a God who refused to extinguish the flames of my suffering.

"I appreciate your kindness towards Timmy.  He led a painful life on Earth, it's comforting to know he has you here as a positive role model.” I nodded, not really taking in what He was telling me. “Perhaps you could help each other. Maybe all you need is someone else to focus on apart from Lucy?"

I left the room feeling frustrated but strangely energised.  I had only one thing on my mind now.  A sudden desire to adopt Timmy.

Chapter Sixteen

Lucy's face materialised before me and it was enough to take my breath away.  She had her hair tied in a messy bun and was dressed in pyjamas. Her scrubbed face glowed.  I could instantly see the improvement in her. Perhaps time was healing her wounds while ripping mine wide open.

The house looked the same as it did the night I left to celebrate our engagement.  The only thing that had changed was the number of photographs of myself I could see, displayed all over it.

The one by the phone in the living-room I had placed there myself. It showed Lucy and me together and I’d picked it out and displayed it to remind myself not to work too hard − not to miss out on time spent with the person I was lucky to have in my life.  We were sitting on a beach in Thailand in the photo, Lucy had more freckles across her face than usual and her hair had gone wild in the heat.  We smiled into the camera happily, surrounded by scenery we had both described as resembling paradise at the time.  Now I realise that it was only paradise for me because she was there. 

In the hallway I found another photo of us, standing proudly on the driveway outside our house.  It was taken the day I asked her to move in and in the picture she can be seen dangling a bunch of keys that glint in the sun. 

Another was placed by the door and must have been the first thing Lucy saw when she entered the house.  I was sitting on the green by the river, the setting sun a bright orange ball in the distance. Shadows were falling over the patchwork of fells close by.  I was gazing into the distance, my expression pensive, taking in the landscape that I loved.  There was a peaceful expression on my face and I realised this photograph had been placed in a location where it would be looked upon daily.

Lucy came into view, marching out of the kitchen with a determined expression on her face.  She held a black bin bag in one hand and was surveying the downstairs rooms.  She stopped beside the picture of us on the beach that I had been admiring just moments before.  She held out the black bin bag and without so much as a second’s hesitation flicked the frame containing the photograph into the black abyss.  I watched her with a mixture of shock and disgust.  I stared after her as she went from one photograph to the next. Memory after memory was tossed away like household waste.  The only one she left untouched was the picture of me gazing at the village landscape. This was allowed to remain in its original place by the door.

I was so absorbed in what she was doing that I almost didn't hear it.  A high-pitched squeal came from one of the rooms upstairs.  The sound was an urgent one and whoever had made it needed attention.  Lucy stopped what she was doing immediately and moved towards the stairs.  Whatever it was, its importance to her was evident.  Lucy passed the large wall clock that hung in the hallway. The time was 9.30 a.m.  She started work at 8 every day, hated to arrive late and was meticulous about being on time. 
Why wasn't she at work?

The high-pitched squeal sounded again and I wondered if this was the reason for her absence from work.  The noise came from something that was young and vulnerable, and the fact that it was reliant on Lucy was obvious.  She ran up the huge, imposing staircase that I had lovingly restored just a few years before and along the landing.

She entered the bedroom at the far end and immediately started talking to whatever resided there.  A horrible feeling bubbled up inside me as I felt darkness creep in.

How long had I been gone?

She was making cooing noises as she reassured the mysterious creature that she had not forgotten it.  "Are you ready to be let out now?" she asked. 
Let out? Was it a prisoner?
 
I heard the sound of metal clanging and a high-pitched creak, as though a door had been opened.

The sound of Lucy giggling affected me like a glass of ice-cold water on a hot day.  It had been a long time since I'd heard it

"I know, I know," she said. "I missed you too."

She opened the door and a mass of blond, wavy fur appeared, floppy ears bobbing up and down as it sped down the landing and disappeared down the stairs where it nearly rolled over at the bottom.  A minute later and the ball of fluff was back, jumping up at Lucy in excitement.  Its golden eyes looked at her wildly beneath a curtain of soft, honey-coloured hair.  Its pink nose nudged her hand intermittently and its fluffy tail wagged furiously all the way to the kitchen.  The little dog jumped up at her as she made its breakfast.

We were both animal lovers and had discussed getting a dog in the past but other things always got in the way.  Work commitments and building projects were the main obstacles.  I was proud of Lucy for sticking to an idea we had had together and it was obvious that this ball of fluff made her happy.

She made the puppy sit and then placed a bowl full of food in front of it. The dog licked her hand in gratitude.  Then she picked up the phone and dialled a number from memory.

"Hi, Dave," she said in a low voice, the complete opposite of the one she had just used to the dog. 

Dave was her manager and a fairly upstanding guy.  Lucy and I had spent many evenings in the company of him and his wife, and they were good memories for me.  Dave's fondness of Lucy has always been obvious and I knew he had her best interests at heart.

"I'm not feeling well today... the flu, I think... yes, I'll rest... yes, I'll get myself off to the doc’s if I feel worse... OK.  Thanks, Dave."

Dave was so trusting that he had believed every word.  Of course, I could see that she was lying. What I didn't know was why.

After Lucy hung up she stared into space.  There was clearly something on her mind this morning.  She was quickly snapped out of her daze by the sound of the doorbell.  The fuzzy ball of mayhem jumped up, no longer interested in its bowl, and sped off towards the front door while letting out a high-pitched bark.

"Snoop, no," Lucy said sternly, and the dog looked up at her, completely unfazed by the scolding it had just received.  Lucy made the puppy sit behind her before she opened the door.  I laughed out loud when the dog's tail started to thump a beat on the hardwood floor, which grew increasingly up tempo.  The beat played on as the dog waited patiently.  After a while it became obvious that the curly canine just couldn’t keep still any longer and it began to shuffle his butt closer to the door.  It clearly felt torn; the need for human attention was strong but the desire to please Lucy kept the puppy’s hairy bum from lifting a centimetre off the floor.

"Hey, Snoop Dogg!" boomed a familiar voice.

Snoop's desire to obey went out of the window as his whole body launched itself at the visitor, tongue frantically licking.

"Russ, I'm trying to teach him some manners.  Some people don't like dogs jumping up at them."

"Sorry, Luce," Russ said apologetically.  "He's just so goddamn’ cute. Look at that face!"  He grabbed the dog’s head in both hands and rubbed its cheeks with a circular motion.

"Such an adorable dog for such a weird name." Russ looked over at Lucy. "What breed did you say he was again?  A cockadoodle?"

"A cockapoo."

"Ah, yes, those crossbreeds... they all have poo in them somewhere!"

"Yes, and evidently he has plenty. I'm still toilet training him."

"Not going well?"

"Meh, getting there," Lucy called over her shoulder as she led him to the hub of the house. 

The kitchen was large and my favourite feature of the home I’d worked so hard for. It was my most successful creation and I loved every inch of it.  Russ sat down at the large, antique oak table and watched Lucy as she bustled around.

"Did you ring your boss?" he asked as she handed him a coffee.

"Yes, I did. He believed my awful lies," said Lucy with a tinge of regret in her voice. "I can't believe I'm bunking off work with you."

Russ chuckled. "Believe it, baby, you're a bad ass now."

Lucy did not appear amused by his joke. Instead she appeared anxious and a little guilty.

"And you're a bad influence on me."

"Yes, I am," he said, grinning widely.

Lucy sighed and slumped into a chair. "I feel awful about it."

"Don't. The unfeeling bastards wouldn't give you the day off.  Sometimes they bring things like this on themselves."

"I just hope nobody I work with spots us today."

"They won't," he reassured her.

After some further reassurance from Russ that she was doing the right thing, Lucy went upstairs to get dressed and he had the strenuous task of watching the dog.  He found a ball lying around the kitchen and threw it repeatedly for the curly-haired creature.  Eventually the puppy grew bored, jumped on Russ's lap and licked his entire face.

"All right, buddy," he said, trying to calm the dog's obvious enthusiasm. It rolled over on his lap for a belly rub.

"You're a good dog," he said, frantically rubbing the pup's soft belly.  After a while he added, "I hope you're looking after her.  I hope you're keeping her safe." The dog licked his face in response. "You're her protector now.  You never leave her side, OK?" said Russ, and his expression became tinged with sadness as he and the dog gazed at each other in a form of silent contract. "Oh, what I'd give to be in your place, buddy," said Russ unhappily.

Lucy, who was making her way down the grand staircase I was so proud of, stopped mid-stride as she heard that last comment.  I wished I knew what she was thinking as I looked into her blank face.  After a few moments she composed herself and carried on towards the kitchen.  She was wearing tight-fitting jeans with a long black vest top and a baby pink cardigan. 

She had lost weight since I last saw her and the outline of her ribs could faintly be seen through the tight-fitting top.  Russ winked at her as she entered the room. "Shall we go?"

After some debate as to which car they should take, Lucy eventually won and the two of them, plus Snoop, piled into my old Mini Mayfair.  The sun glinted off its bright red paintwork.  It looked recently washed and well cared for.  We had a garage full of cars but this one was always Lucy's favourite.  She said it contained so many memories of our youth that every trip out in it sparked a reminder of past adventures.  Even though she swore she would never be a romantic, she had a whimsical moment every now and then.

The sun was shining. Judging by what the two of them were wearing, I assumed that they were still well and truly in the summer months.

Maybe I hadn't missed as much as I first thought.

They drove along the winding country lanes with Lucy at the wheel and the windows rolled down.  The Beach Boys were playing on the car's stereo and I was briefly transported back in time to the summer we had built the treehouse. I could almost smell egg sandwiches.  Foxgloves swayed in the soft breeze and the smell of cut grass sent a dizzy haze of elation through me.  There was only one world that had a smell like that and I missed it more in this moment than ever before.

Snoop curled up on the back seat and closed his eyes.  The crazy cockapoo was calm for once, which seemed a sort of miracle.  The journey took around an hour and Lucy and Russ chatted happily together about work and their families.  Lucy's sister had just given birth to a baby girl whom she had named Beth.  Lucy's face lit up when she talked about her.  Russ's dad was in hospital, but the reason was not mentioned.

I compared their present demeanour to when I had last seen them at my funeral and concluded they were very different.  There was no shadow of grief about them; they were the same people they had been when I left them.  I have to admit I felt insulted. 
Did I mean so little to them that they could recover from my death so quickly?

I never enjoyed seeing my friends upset but I’d certainly expected them to be a little more crushed by my departure.  It couldn't have been more than a few weeks since my funeral after all.  The fact that since my intrusion neither of them had mentioned me was almost enough to send me back to my cave in the trees.  But curiosity got the better of me and I stuck by my friends’ side.  Deep down there was a part of me that was still extremely protective of Lucy and I stayed with her that day despite the fact that I would be helpless to assist if she came into danger.

We were in a secluded car park surrounded by dense forest.  Russ took a rucksack out of the boot. I hadn't noticed it before. Lucy got a hysterically giddy Snoop out of the car.  They walked beneath the intertwining tree branches. This place had a magical quality to it.  Only the sound of Russ’s and Lucy’s footsteps filled the eerie silence.  They didn't see a soul as they broke through wild undergrowth.

Although they both seemed to know this location well the surroundings were a mystery to me. 
What were they doing here?  Why had Lucy missed work for this?
 
Whatever their reason for coming here, it seemed important to both of them and I couldn’t help but think that it was an unhappy mission.  An image of Lucy holding the black bin liner materialised before me again but I ignored it.

They were silent as they walked side by side. Russ looked over at Lucy and studied her expression. "What are you thinking, Luce?"

She looked back at him and sighed. "Just that everything changes, whether you want it to or not.  Time is an irresistible force that brings both devastation and healing into our lives."