The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) (13 page)

Without thinking twice I lunged at him, an action that took even me by surprise. My wet hands held him by the neck as I pinned him to the flimsy wall of the cabin. I watched as water droplets slid down his neck and on to his T-shirt, changing it from light to dark blue. His eyes bulged in shock and darted around, making them appear almost reptilian.

When he finally spoke his voice shook with fear. “My wallet is in my back pocket… please, take it… take what you want.”

I laughed, a cold humourless sound, as I realised the man hadn’t recognised me.

“I don’t want your money. I want you to tell me all you know about Lucy Whitman and why you have been trying to enter her home illegally.”

His eyes widened even further and a look of terror appeared on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Still holding on to his neck, I lifted him away from the wall and slammed him back full force. I saw his head snap against the wall with a thud and was surprised by my own lack of guilt. I felt absolutely no pity towards this man.

“I’ll ask you again, what were you doing there?”

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I moved my face so that it was inches from his. My anger mounted with every lie that escaped him.

“You were seen on CCTV tampering with the locks on Lucy’s house. I saw the footage with my own eyes, I know it was you.”

The man became silent. He was breathing heavily. Finally he nodded in defeat and I loosened my grip slightly to let him speak.

“I was looking for a story. The paper… there’s so much pressure on us to find things, to go through rubbish bins and… well, I heard that Lucy might be a suspect in her husband’s accident and I was trying to dig up some dirt. Find things that may have caused an argument between them. It was just business.”

“Just business? You were trying to break into a vulnerable woman’s home. Her husband is in a critical condition, and you’re saying that it was ‘just business’ to you?” My voice rose with irritation.

“That’s not what I meant. Obviously I’m sorry for my actions… I got carried away… desperation caused me to behave foolishly… Looking back, I can see that it was wrong…” He was talking fast, attempting to convince me he wasn’t a threat. I believed him. This man was no murderer, his driving force was money.

I released him roughly. “If I see you anywhere near Lucy or her home again, I will not be held responsible for my actions, do you understand?”

He nodded quickly and practically leaped out of the door and disappeared. As I watched him go I noticed a small boy standing in the doorway.

“Come on, Ben, what are you waiting for?” I heard a female voice say.

His mother appeared at his side and her eyes follow green dress that highlighted the vibrant colour of her hair. I knew who this was.

“Emma.” The name fell from my mouth easily. She froze, took one look at me and marched Adam’s son out of the cabin and back into the bright sunlight.

“Emma, wait,” I called after her, “let’s talk.”

She turned to me with a mixture of anger and pity in her pale blue eyes. “I can’t,” she said simply.

“Why?”

“You know why,” she answered bitterly before disappearing into the ladies’ toilets.  

When I turned around I saw Lucy and Russ standing behind me with looks of confusion on their perspiring faces.

“Well, she seems like a barrel o’ laughs. Ex-wife, I take it?” Russ said, amused.

“Yeah,” was all I could manage to say.

Lucy’s green eyes shone in the sunlight as she stared at me but I couldn’t quite decipher the look on her face. Was it pity? Sorrow? Disappointment?

“We saw you follow a bloke into the loos. Was he the intruder?” Lucy demanded.

“Yeah. He’s a reporter but he’s harmless. He only tampered with the locks so he could get in and find a story on you, some scandal they could put into print.”

“Heartless bastard!” Russ spat.

“Aye, well, he shouldn’t bother you again, I saw to that, but if you see him sniffing around, let me know.”

Lucy nodded. “Thank you, Adam, for standing up for me. I know it’s out of character for you to resort to violence.”

She was right, it was out of character for me, but whether it was out of character for Adam I had no idea. Judging by his son’s expression, it was. I spotted Emma and Ben slowly make their way to the other side of the field where they exited and crossed the road. Lucy saw me watching.

“Shall we call it a day?”

“I think so, but I’ll walk you back.” I looked at Russ, who had his arms stretched wide and his face turned up to the sky. He was singing a football song. “It looks like you’ve got your work cut out.”

Lucy laughed. “I think I’ll have to take you up on that.”

There was a cool breeze that blew back her hair as we walked, and the faint smell of coconut from her skin caused many memories to filter back.  Russ staggered ahead of us, occasionally bumping into someone walking the other way. He apologised loudly then continued with his loud singing.

“Does he usually get this bladdered during the day?” I asked Lucy.

“Not usually. I wonder whether he’s having problems with his girlfriend.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“She’s a little possessive,” Lucy explained.

I nodded in response.

“What’s your wife’s name?”

“Ex-wife,” I corrected, “and it’s Emma.”

“Do you see much of her?”

“Not really.”

“How come.”

I struggled to give a reason. “We’re divorced, I guess we don’t need to be around each other anymore.”

“She seemed very hostile, why was that?”

“I don’t know. I guess she didn’t like the fact that Ben had witnessed me threatening someone.”

“Ben is your son?”

I nodded. It still felt strange to admit it.

“He looked young, how old is he?

I tried to remember the year the diary was written; my memory told me it was 2012. “Three.”

“Very sweet.” Lucy smiled. “He looks like you.”

“Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.

I felt uncomfortable lying to Lucy, creating a world that wasn’t mine, pretending to know people I didn’t, but I was here to save her life, not to pick up where we’d left off. It seemed I had a problem remembering that Adam would eventually come and reclaim his life.

“Why did you split up?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I said honestly.

“Do you think you’ll get back together?”

I shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. I decided to redirect the conversation.

“How about you and the doc? How did you meet?”

“I had an accident, fell and hit my head pretty hard. They put me in an induced coma. Jamie was my doctor. He came to my rescue and I guess I came to his.”

“And he ended up being the love of your life?” I asked the question in a teasing manner but this was just a veil, a way of covering up what I really wanted to know.

She laughed nervously. “He’s... very special to me.”

She’d dodged the question and it hadn’t gone unnoticed. Lucy had always been a private person and I realised her reluctance to open up about her feelings for Jamie could be down to her lack of trust in me.

As we walked side by side, down the winding country lane towards the village that was my childhood home, I felt a sense of normality, a sense of the familiar. My best friend chanted songs from our childhood while Lucy and I exchanged looks of amusement. This was what I had been missing: the camaraderie, the friendship, the comfort.

A sound filled the air and I realised it was a mobile ringtone playing Tom Jones’s ‘Sex Bomb’
.
We watched Russ with interest as he fumbled with every single pocket of his jeans; eventually he found the phone in his right back pocket.

“Ah, so that’s the music he’s into,” I whispered to Lucy, who gave a low laugh.

“AWRIIIGHT?” Russ shouted down the phone before pausing to listen to whoever was calling. “I may ’ave ‘ad a few, me little pumpkin pie… Nah, am I ’eck! Lucy’s ’ere and so’s Adam, I’m not on me lonesome… Now look, Lucy is ma fr… ma frrr… friend.” Russ swayed back and forth as he spoke. “No trouble ’ere, jus’ ask Luce.”

Placing the mobile in his other hand Russ changed ears, eyes narrowed as he concentrated on the caller’s voice.

“Oh, well, you can jus’ sod off then!” he spat as he hung up the phone and placed it back in his pocket before continuing on his way up the hill.

“Girlfriend?” I guessed, glancing sideways at Lucy

“Yep.”

“You weren’t kidding.”

“Nope,” Lucy sighed sadly.

The house came into view as we reached the top of the hill. It was now late evening and the sun was low in the sky, casting streaks of orange and pink over the fluffy clouds. Russ reached the house first and fell to his knees outside the front door. Lucy ran to him and I was reminded of the kindness she always seemed to show others. I helped to prop him up as Lucy lightly tapped Russ’s face with her palm while saying his name repeatedly.

“He’s completely out of it,” I concluded, “let’s get him inside and lay him down.”

After struggling to get him upright, we somehow managed to drag him into the lounge. The smell of alcohol was strong as Russ mumbled senseless sentences that were difficult to decipher. After a few attempts at heaving his torso on to the sofa we managed to get him into a sitting position, Lucy lifted his legs and laid them down so that he was flat. His head lolled to one side and I propped it up with a few plump pillows while Lucy went in search of a bucket. The condition that Russ was in worried me; excessive drinking was usually a sign of stress with him.

After Lucy came back with a bucket and placed it next to him on the floor, we got settled in the kitchen. The door was left open so we could hear any noise coming from the lounge.  Lucy poured me a glass of lemonade and I settled into a chair at the large dining table. At first we sat in silence and listened to the flock of starlings as they flew over the house, a pre-roost ritual they had been performing for years.  

“Were the locks any trouble?” I asked, referring to the replacements installed earlier that day.

“No, not really. All done pretty quickly and my peace of mind has been restored.”

“So you won’t need me to stand guard in the treehouse then?” I smirked.

“No.” She paused and reflected. “Not unless I’m craving one of your delicious breakfasts.”

I grinned and looked at the floor in embarrassment.

“Did you manage to go through your husband’s study?”

“Not with the locks being changed and then meeting you, I ran out of time.”

I nodded. “Do you mind if we take a quick look now? I want to make sure you’re not in any danger.”

“Sure, I’ll just get the key.”

“It’s locked?”

“Yes. Sometimes Jamie would bring patients’ files home with him. It’s not really allowed.” Lucy paused and added thoughtfully, “In fact, I think they frown on it. I imagine he could get into trouble.”

“Why would he need to study patients’ files?”

“I don’t know… he always seemed worried he would make a mistake. He thought by studying their medical history he would get things right.”

I shrugged. It made sense that someone with such an important and high-risk job would be worried about an oversight, no matter how small.

When Lucy returned with the key we entered the large study that had been the room she’d stayed in when she’d first lived with me, before we were officially an item. I took in the oak wardrobe that housed the old, tatty blanket we used to hide under as kids. Lucy’s collection of teddy bears could be seen on the shelving unit that stood next to the computer; they sat upright and proud, glassy eyes staring out from their vacant faces. Some were dressed in clothes – dungarees, pyjamas, cute flowery dresses – but they were all bears. Lucy was very rigorous about her collection: only bears could be displayed. Sitting on the edge of the shelf in front of the others was a small bear wearing a sash that read
Mother Shipton’s Cave, Knaresborough
and I instantly recognised it as the one I had recovered for her from Russ as a young boy after he had buried it.

Lucy was on her knees in front of a filing cabinet, with papers and documentation spread all around her. She had a look of intense concentration on her face, her perfectly straight eyebrows drawn together and her forehead furrowed. Her long hair was swept over one shoulder and I noticed a strand rested lightly against her delicate collarbone, just waiting to be swept back into place. Her still form gave her an almost childlike appearance, an innocent quality. She was in her own world and far too deep in her thoughts to notice that I was staring.

Taking her lead, I kneeled down in front of a chest of drawers and started to rifle through a life that wasn’t my own. It was starting to become a hobby of mine.

As I worked I began to feel uncomfortable. I was looking through bills and receipts that belonged to a stranger. I came across electricity bills, gas bills, car repair receipts and dinner expenses. I found photos of Jamie as a young boy standing proudly next to his parents and an older boy with similar eyes to his. His brother, perhaps? They were posing awkwardly outside a large house and were all wearing stiff smiles. His parents stood poker- straight and I noticed there was no contact between any of them, no reassuring adult hand on a child's shoulder, no subtle, comforting lean of a child against an adult’s hip, there was absolutely no emotional attachment between any of them. Their connection appeared almost clinical and to someone from a warm and loving home, such as myself, the picture appeared pitifully sad.