The Life and Afterlife of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 1) (23 page)

I couldn’t take any more, I had heard enough.  This woman was the source of most of Lucy’s problems and I wasn’t listening to anymore of her dramatics.

"
You've
been ill?
You?
Do you have any idea what your daughter has been through lately? You've been so wrapped up in yourself you entirely failed to see her suffering."

Lucy's mother shook her head, "I don't know what you mean."

"Your daughter is in pain.  She is staying with me because she needs support... something she doesn't get from you."

"Why is she in pain? She has nothing to be in pain about; she has everything she could possibly need! I wish I had half of what she has! That girl is just never happy! I wish I could swap places with her, then she would know what true unhappiness means." Lucy’s mother heaved a lingering sigh.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing and found myself wondering if she knew how truly crazy she sounded.  I now realised why Lucy could never talk to her mother about her problems.  I also realised how alone Lucy must have felt in the past few years.  I had heard enough.

"Your daughter tried to commit suicide a few months ago and couldn't bring herself to live under the same roof as you.  That's the reality of the situation, Mrs Elliot."

Lucy's mother turned on her heel and marched in the direction of my house. 
What had I done?
  I ran to catch up with her, afraid she might do more damage.

"Mrs Elliot, please. I don't think you should see Lucy. You'll only make matters worse."

She spun around to face me. "Worse? I am her mother! She will see me whether she likes it or not!"  And then she carried on stomping up the country lane in the direction of my house.  The lane was steep and she had to stop intermittently to cough and generally complain about her health.  Shocked locals stared and whispered as we passed by, and then they too began to trail up the hill after us towards my house.  Fantastic, soon the whole village would have gathered to see the show.

Before I could stop her Mrs Elliott had raised her fist and was knocking loudly on my front door.  There was a short pause before it was opened by a grinning Lucy.

"Have you forgotten your key again, you silly − " Lucy stopped mid-sentence and her face fell as she recognised the person standing in front of her.

"Yes, that's right, I know where you've been hiding. But what I can't understand is why you couldn't come home where you belong?"

Lucy looked at me as though I had betrayed her.  Her impish grin was gone, to be replaced by an expression of extreme anxiety.

"Russ told her," I explained.

"Come on, we are going inside to collect your things," Lucy’s mother ordered.

Lucy blocked her path. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't take that tone with me, my girl, you will do as I say." Mrs Elliot straightened her back in an attempt to look more imposing. "I am your mother."

"I am nearly twenty-one years old. I do not need to take orders from you."

"I cannot believe the disrespect coming out of your mouth! Your father and I have done our very best for you.  We have provided a roof over your head... food... clothes…. not to mention paying expensive tuition fees so that you can swan off to university.  And this is how you repay us? Your father will be so upset..."

Lucy seemed mortified by the mention of her father being affected and immediately started to apologise.  Tears ran down Mrs Elliot's face, a tried and tested tactic that always had the desired effect when it came to emotionally manipulating her daughter.  Soon she was hysterical and her wailing was heard by all the villagers who had crowded round to satisfy their curiosity.

"Let's go inside and discuss things," I suggested, trying to shield Lucy from their stares and wagging tongues.  She went inside.

"And what's all this about you trying to kill yourself? Lucy, you need help, you really do! You always were a trying child." Her mother sniffled and looked up at the sky, "I never asked for any of this... why me?"

Lucy slowly turned around in the doorway. "You told her that?" she said to me.

"Look, Luce, I... erm... I was sticking up for you."

"Sticking up for me? This is you sticking up for me?  Telling people personal things about me that I'm ashamed of?  I thought I could trust you, Charlie, but I guess I was wrong.” The look in her eyes was one of pure hatred. “Well, there's no need to worry about little old me anymore."

"Look, Luce, please... we've only just started to become friends again."

"And what a big mistake that was!" she threw over her shoulder as she ran upstairs to pack her things.  I followed her hurriedly.

"Please, I don't want to lose you again."

She threw her clothes in to a suitcase angrily, ignoring my pleas.

"Please Lucy, we can work this out.  We've only just started talking again."

There was a loud bang as she closed the lid of the suitcase and her body whipped around to face me.

"I trusted you Charlie, of all the people you could've told...I thought you understood me...knew the real me"

"I do know the real you, Luce.  I was sticking up for you...I was trying to explain-"

"...I don't want to see you again, Charlie" she said quietly before making her way down the stairs where she joined her mother, her head hanging low to avoid the astonished stares of the village mob.

I stood on the landing and tried to make sense of what had just happened.  Yet again Lucy’s mother had ruined everything, and I had given her the ammunition to do so.  I punched the wall in frustration; the only damage I caused was to myself.  I walked into the living room where I had spent so many happy nights with Lucy and collapsed into the nearest armchair.  As I slumped into its comforting padding I realised I still held the brown envelope containing her results. 
Should I open it? Would she be mad?
  Remembering the anger in Lucy's face, I figured there was no way she would ever return to this house now.  I ripped open the top of the envelope and pulled out the piece of paper inside.  I scanned through the letter to find the result she had achieved after three years of hard study and stress.  I started to smile as I saw the grade on the page.  Even with all the pressure she had endured this past year she had managed it.

I popped the champagne cork. The cheerful sound did little to lift the atmosphere of melancholy in the house where Lucy no longer lived.

Chapter Twenty-one

After Lucy's departure I got word that she had chosen to live with her dad, preferring to live in the house she had grown up in. In the days that followed I tried my hardest to right the wrong I had done but she would not see me.  Every trip I made to her house was to no avail, she wouldn't even come to the door.  I rang her mobile every day and all I got was her voicemail with which I left a message every time, telling her how sorry I was.  I was back to square one again and I didn’t know how to make things right.

After a while my business began calling to me. The hours I put in increased, which meant that I was able to complete jobs a lot faster.  My job was an important part of who I am but it also became a refuge for me during times of turmoil.  As I sanded, carved and manipulated the smooth wood, my soul was soothed just a little.  Being outdoors surrounded by birdsong, with the smell of musty bark in my nostrils and the warmth of the sun’s rays on my back, was the closest I came to being at peace. 

It was during one of these serene moments that a memory came to me out of the blue. 
"
I can't think of a happier time than those days in our treehouse. We laughed so much back then. What a peaceful way to live
,”   Lucy had said while reminiscing about our childhood.

An idea popped into my head − I had thought of the perfect way win her over. I would build her a treehouse in my garden.  The horse chestnut tree was perfect and the view of the breathtaking Dales beyond would be spectacular from its great height.

I let my imagination run wild and spent the next few evenings drawing up plans for the new house.  Because I was building it for Lucy it needed to be the finest-looking treehouse I had ever created.  It was going to be filled with small details significant only to her.  It would include all of her favourite things and create a space for her that was both tranquil and calm so that she had somewhere to go when the craziness of life became too much.  I was essentially building a hiding place for her, a secret refuge only she would know about.

The treehouse took me a month to build and it was ready in time for Lucy's twenty-first birthday.  I had spent my evenings, weekends and pretty much any spare time I had on it.  I worked my fingers to the bone, my entire body ached, but still I continued with the project.  Only when I saw the first few rays of sunlight hit the tops of the hills would I give in to the exhaustion, put down my tools and retire to bed.  In the later stages of its completion I slept in the place of my own creation. Sometimes I would look up at the stars and imagine Lucy smiling again before sleep overwhelmed me.

On the last day I appraised the treehouse for any details I had missed.  This was my favourite part of a construction project as it allowed me to stand back and survey my own craftsmanship.  I looked up at the tall ceiling in the main room of the treehouse and focused on the detail I had carved on the wooden beams. It had taken me hours and caused a few bleeding fingers, but I had carved a menagerie of woodland creatures into the smooth wood as well as swirling patterns that represented the rolling hills of the Dales that Lucy loved.   

There were red kites, kingfishers, rabbits, bats, moles, insects, farm animals − all of the creatures that could be found in or near our beloved village.  But the grandest carving of all was of Archimedes, the Little Owl Lucy and I rescued as children.  So much attention had been paid to his feathers and wings that he looked almost lifelike. His beady eyes stared out of the dark wood like a sentry’s.

Beneath the beams was a cosy living room that contained furniture made from natural materials, sourced locally by myself.  On one side of the living room was a wide floor-to-ceiling glass window that was by far the biggest ever installed in one of my treehouses.  On the other side of the window was a balcony that overlooked the village and the river, the sound of which could be heard whilst out there.

Old church pews, which my parents had bought and donated to the project, lined the walls.  Each contained an array of fat cushions in earthy green and yellow tones.  The trunk of the horse chestnut took centre stage in the middle of the room, a tactile and eyecatching natural feature.

A wooden ladder, made from gnarled and knotted wood, was propped against the trunk and led up to a secret library that contained shelf upon shelf of Lucy's favourite books.  A small round window in the library acted as a look-out point as well as offering a fabulous panorama of the rolling hills.  The floor of this space was covered in soft mattress-like cushions covered in various bright colours and textures.  It drew you in with its comfortable appearance and I knew it was a place where Lucy would love losing herself in books.   Carved high in the beams above the library was a small butterfly, as a sign that this was to be Lucy's secret place, one made just for her and her alone.  One wall of the library was hung with an assortment of photographs of Lucy, Russ and me as children.

I'd even had a bathroom installed that was a continuation on the natural theme.  The bath was large and deep and unlike any other bath tub on the market.  It was embedded in a gigantic piece of tree trunk that had been polished to a high shine.  The rich, dark tones of the wood were beautiful and looked stunning against the wooden walls of the bathroom.  I’d added a few large-leaved plants that gave the space a peaceful, woodland aura and created an instant feeling of relaxation.  The shower was modelled on a waterfall and set in a glass wall to give a view out over the countryside while it was used.

Lucy’s treehouse was the most extravagant I had ever built, of a level of luxury she was not used to, and the fact that I would be the one to give it to her gave me a thrill. 

On the morning of her twenty- first birthday, with shaking hands and an anxious mind, I knocked on her Father's door.  Her dad answered, still dressed in his bathrobe and slippers with the morning's paper shoved under his arm. 

"Oh, hello, Charlie," he said, moving aside to let me past.  "It's a surprise to see you, do come in." He seemed genuinely pleased I was there, displaying none of the animosity towards me that his wife had shown.

I hesitated. "Are you sure I'm not interrupting anything? I wouldn't want to disrupt your family breakfast."

"Of course not, breakfast ended hours ago... I'm just being lazy."

I grinned at him. "Nothing wrong with that."

"You'll find the birthday girl in her room," he said with a wink.

I climbed the familiar staircase to the room Lucy had shared with her sister throughout their childhood. Of course now that Emelia had moved out Lucy was the sole occupant.  I found her sitting on her neatly made bed that still had fairy lights, shaped like roses, draped around the headboard.  She was surrounded by presents and gazing out of the window.

"Knock, knock," I said as I entered.  She turned around with a look on her face that wasn't exactly welcoming, but she didn't ask me to leave either.

"Hi," she said, before resuming her wistful gaze out of the window.

"Am I OK to be here?"

"I don't know.  Are you going to give away anymore of my secrets?"

"Hopefully not," I said, and she flashed me a sad smile that suggested her disappointment in me still lingered.

"I am really sorry about that, Luce. I'm sure you're sick of me telling you that, though I really don't know how else to make it right between us again. But I do know that I would do anything for just an hour with you the way it used to be... laughing and joking... to know you're happy."

She looked out of the window, processing what I'd just said.  I waited, hoping that she was considering forgiveness.  After a while she glanced over her shoulder at me with a mischievous grin.

"Well," she said, shrugging, "I
was
getting a bit sick of your voicemails." Her grin became wider. "I was actually starting to pity you."

"I am pretty pitiful," I agreed, and we both started to laugh.

"So come on then, where's my present?" Lucy said cheerfully, indicating a change of mood.

"Well... I don't actually have it with me. It’s a bit big. Maybe you could come back to my house and get it?"

"Oh, I see, make a girl traipse all the way over to your house on her birthday, eh? I'll only go if you have cake."

I grinned. "I think when you see your gift you'll forget about cake."

As we made our way out there was a mild confrontation between Lucy and her father.  Lucy was due to spend the rest of the day with her mother and Mrs Elliot hadn't taken no for an answer.  I explained that I'd have her back within the hour and Mr Elliot reluctantly settled for that.

On the way to my house I asked how things were at home.  Lucy looked down at her hands.

"Better now that they have separated," she said.

As we approached the garden I produced a tie from my pocket, which I’d put there as a makeshift blindfold.

"What is this? Why can't I see?"

"All in good time," I said.

"It's a good job I trust you."

"Do you?"

"Completely."

I smiled at that. I took her into the garden, down the path and then up the spiral staircase that led to the hideaway I had made especially for her.  My heart pounded in my chest as I began to worry about whether she'd like it.  When we were standing in the middle of the lounge I paused and took a big breath. 
Was all this too much?  Would she become overwhelmed and retreat even further away?

"I heard that," said Lucy, "Can't be a good sign."  I laughed at her astuteness.

Standing behind her, I untied the blindfold and stepped back, allowing her to take it all in.  I clenched my fists in anticipation.  My fingernails pressed so deeply into the palms of my hands that I was sure they had left little half moons indented in the skin.  Lucy was silent. I could not see her face from where I stood. 

Minutes passed and the silence in the room became unbearable.  I couldn't take it anymore; I needed to see her reaction even if it wasn't quite the one I was hoping for.  I peered around at her face as I stepped closer and saw a tear slide down her cheek.  I stood in front of her and wiped the tear away with my thumb.

"Are you OK, Luce?" I asked.

This definitely wasn't the reaction I was hoping for.  She nodded and tried to smile, it was obvious she was struggling with her emotions.  I waited as she tried to talk. 

"Happy," she breathed in between sobs.

I took her in my arms and held her close, then I rested my chin on top of her head, smelling her fragrant hair as I rocked her gently. We stayed this way for a long time, interlocked and perfectly connected. In my elation I felt the room spin around me. I had an overpowering urge to keep her like this forever.  Never to let her go.

She squirmed in my arms and looked up at me.  She was dry-eyed by now.

"Show me the rest," she whispered.

I gave her a tour of the treehouse and watched her face light up as she took in the details of every room.

"It's like being in a fairy-tale," she said as she took in the natural-themed bathroom.  I led her up a winding staircase made from natural wood and into the large room that was to be her bedroom.  The mattress was sunk into the floor and had been ’specially made.  It was covered in soft, large pillows in woody tones that gave it an inviting appearance that was hard to resist.  The tree’s highest branches rose through the floor of this room and disappeared past the ceiling, a feature I knew she would love.   The sun shone brightly through the curved glass ceiling and picked up rich, orange lights in Lucy’s hair as she gazed up through the skylight.

"You really have thought of everything," she breathed.

Her approval meant the world to me.  A warm feeling spread through my body.  All those nights spent sanding and sawing the wood to create this special place had been worthwhile because the woman I loved was happy.  In fact, Lucy was the happiest I'd ever seen her.

I’d saved the library till last, as it was the room I felt she would love the most.  I pressed the button to reveal the hidden ladder recessed into the surrounding wood and let her go first.  When I reached the top she was standing in front of the collection of photos of us as children.

"This is your private space," I explained, "Somewhere for you to read, daydream, or just escape from the daily stress of life."

She looked at me for a long moment then shook her head in awe as she wandered over to the bookshelves made from bleached driftwood.

"You even put in all my favourite books!" she exclaimed as she turned to look at me with bright eyes. "How did you know these were my favourites?"

"You were always reading when we were kids.  Some of the books you read twice... I figured those were your favourites." I shrugged as though it was nothing.

"You remembered?"

I looked at her bewildered expression and marvelled at the fact that she was still so charmingly unaware of how treasured she was, and had always been, by me.

"I remember everything about you," I whispered. I took a step closer to her.  My heart pounded in my chest as thoughts of my feelings for her whirled around in my head and threatened spill out of my mouth in a mess of incoherent speech.  I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the words I had been trying to find for so long.  I took another step towards her.