The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) (14 page)

In my search I uncovered a folder that contained mortgage details for an address that didn’t match the house we were currently in. The house was in the nearby town of Skipton and the mortgage was in Jamie’s name.

I called Lucy over to where I was and she kneeled beside me as I showed her the document. She appeared confused and leaned closer to me as she read it again.

“What is this?” she mumbled.

“Apparently Jamie had another property.”

“He has properties all over North Yorkshire, he rents them out, mainly student accommodation.” She continued to look confused.

“You weren’t aware of this one, though?”

“No, Jamie never mentioned this one.” She stared down at the document blankly.

“Does he often keep secrets?”

“He could be extremely uncommunicative at times,” she said without looking at me.

“Any reason for that?”

“Possibly his upbringing. You met his parents, I’m sure you noticed the stiffness of their upper lips.”

“Not to mention the rather large pole inserted up their backsides,” I added.

Lucy smiled and I felt some of the camaraderie I had experienced earlier but also the sense of uneasiness I’d felt previously when Lucy discussed Jamie and his family. The two of them seemed incompatible, with no similarities in background and no common interests.

“Let’s put this to one side and keep looking,” she suggested.

As time passed my uneasiness increased. I had so far uncovered degree certificates, old photo albums, including Lucy and Jamie’s wedding album, dissertations, research, patient information and medical documents. The room was scattered with folders and scraps of paper. When I looked at my watch it was almost eleven p.m. Lucy had been yawning for the past half an hour. It was time to call it a night.

“Lucy,” I called repeatedly before she lifted her head in my direction. “It’s getting late and sleep is sort of a requirement of mine so…”

She looked at her watch and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the time.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you so long, I get carried away.”

“It’s OK, we’ll pick it up another time.”

We stretched our legs as we stood up. My calf muscles tingled slightly due to decreased blood flow from sitting on the floor for so long. I followed Lucy downstairs and watched as she peered into the lounge to make sure Russ was still there.

“Asleep,” she whispered.

She opened the front door as silently as she could and held it open for me.

“I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” I said over my shoulder as I walked out.

I had reached the end of the long driveway when I heard her call Adam’s name. I turned around to see her sprinting towards me, her long summer dress billowing behind her. She stopped abruptly in front of me and almost smacked her torso against my chest. She looked down in embarrassment and I stifled a laugh.

“I just wanted to thank you for your help today,” she said earnestly. “I don’t know whether I deserve your kindness – God knows I can be difficult at times.” She looked me in the eye. “I just hope that your help isn’t out of pity for me.” I fought the urge to comfort her. “I was actually hoping that you... maybe... might have...” She laughed awkwardly. “That you saw me as more than just a girl who needs saving.”

I paused in my reply. My feelings for her encompassed so many emotions but I couldn’t reveal my true identity.

“I have a lot of respect for you and I care for your saf—”

Before I could finish Lucy had leaned closer and pressed her lips to mine. Her behaviour reminded me of the kiss I had witnessed between her and Russ, the way she’d lunged at him eagerly. Her actions seemed aggressive and desperate, there was no romantic feeling in them.

With all the willpower I could muster I placed my hands on her shoulders and prised us apart. She looked at me in shock as I held her at arm’s length.

“What did I do?” she asked.

“Nothing, none of this is your fault. It’s all mine.”

I saw the sparkle of tears as they appeared in her eyes.

“You don’t feel anything for me?”

“I do, it’s just…”

She waited as I tried to come up with a convincing lie.

“It’s just what?”

I decided to get something off my chest, something that had been bothering me since I’d witnessed it.

“I saw you kissing Russ on the CCTV footage.”

Lucy turned away abruptly and ran back into the house. The sound of the door as it slammed shut behind her echoed in my head.

Chapter Twelve

The next morning began with a spot of light reading. I set Adam’s diary next to me as I ate a bowl of muesli and skimmed over the next entry. I noticed that his handwriting had changed slightly, it was less erratic and more precise.

30 September 2012

Today I can say with pride that I have completed my first AA meeting. I sat in a small village hall for an hour as I listened to the tales of others around me, who were bound by the same addiction as myself. From all backgrounds, these men and women poured their hearts out to complete strangers.

The group was a mix of professional, educated types, such as myself, and individuals who had experienced atrocities in their lives and over time resorted to easing the pain with alcohol. Then there were the criminals, the ones not long out of prison, driven by their overwhelming need to feed the demon living inside every alcoholic. These were the ones with nothing left, the ones who had been abandoned by their families and harshly judged by society.

I cried with them as I heard their stories, I reacted in shock when a man in his seventies told me he had been homeless for five years, that his children wouldn’t speak to him, that for the last six months a kind vicar had let him sleep in the village church. He told me he was fearful of the winter, that he ached for the warmth and comfort of a home, and that his health was failing. In the space of an hour I finally realised how privileged my life was.

As I watched the people around me get to their feet one by one, I realised that it would soon be my turn to speak. I stood up confidently and with every intention of talking through my problems with the friendly, non-judgemental crowd who stared back at me with genuine interest. But when I opened my mouth I stumbled and stuttered, unable to transform my thoughts into speech. The words didn’t flow as I’d imagined they would and I stood within the circle of my confidants in silence. As my mind raced and threw random words around I realised the reason for my apprehension: all of these people had faced many struggles and setbacks in life that had caused their issues with alcohol. My life was easy, fortunate, a carnival ride compared to the rollercoaster some of these people had endured. As I willed my mouth to form words I felt the pressure of guilt, realising there was no reason for me to have turned to alcohol. Unlike the others, I hadn’t been treated badly or ever felt the burden of financial problems. Therefore I had absolutely nothing to say.

As the meeting came to a close and the serenity prayer was chanted, the crowd dispersed and I felt relief that the whole thing was over for another day.

I drove home eager to spend time with the people I feared losing. I remembered the sad eyes of the old man whose life was now in pieces and realised how easily my life could alter. I turned the key to my own front door eagerly, expecting my wife to be waiting for me, with a smile and a warm embrace.

She appeared in the hallway, and instead of a look of pride, she wore a look of disgust. She came towards me looking distracted and roughly handed me my crying son while avoiding eye contact.

“What’ve I done?” I asked her. “I’ve only just got in, Em,” I said as I followed her down the hallway and into the kitchen.

“I’ve had a really bad day. Ben has been so trying today and I can’t get him to eat anything. All he’s done is cry. To be quite honest, I’m sick of the sound.”

“Have you checked his temperature? Maybe he’s ill?”

“He’s not ill, Adam,” she snapped, “he’s being difficult because he misses you.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t manage to see you before the meeting started. I had to stay behind at school – a parent came in to see me.” I was careful to steady my tone as I didn’t want to worsen her mood.

“Well, you’re here now and I’m on my way out so I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?”

“To a film with Sarah, I need to get out.”

“When will you be back?” I said, looking at my watch. It was already eight o’ clock.

“I really don’t know, Adam,” she replied harshly, “it depends if we stay out for a few drinks.”

I watched as she threw various bits and pieces into a black leather handbag I didn’t recognise.

“OK, well, enjoy yourself,” I said before moving in to kiss her cheek.

We heard a car horn sound outside and without so much as a goodbye, she flew out of the door, slamming it closed behind her. I looked at the red tinge to my son’s face and wiped away his tears. As soon as his mother was gone his crying ceased.

“Let’s see if I can get you to eat.”

I mashed together some sweet potato, parsnip and carrot until it was a puree and offered it to Ben. After rejecting a few spoonfuls he obliged me but I noticed that his nose was running and his skin felt hot and clammy. I gave him some Calpol and let him sleep it off.

Later that night I waited up for Emma, enduring trashy TV programmes to pass the time until I heard her key in the lock. When it got to midnight I gave in to my weary muscles and dragged myself to bed. I was woken up by Emma slamming the front door. The clock on the bedside table read 2:30.

As she climbed into bed I pretended to be asleep. I told myself I would avoid any arguments at all cost from now on, if not for our marriage then for the sake of our son.

As I read the last sentence of the diary entry I thought about Adam and the life he was living. I was witnessing the breakdown of his marriage and it was a hard thing to observe. It also caused me to feel grateful for the friendship that Lucy and I shared throughout our relationship. I was confident that she did not feel the hatred for me that Emma seemed to have for Adam. But it was not Adam I felt most sorry for, it was Ben.

I saw the sadness in his face the day of the festival and I knew it was caused by the lack of a responsible father figure in his life. He missed his dad. It was clear as day on his innocent face.

I thought of Timmy and the abuse he had suffered at the hands of his parents and felt a sudden urge to embrace him, to let him know he was loved.

While I sat and worried for Timmy’s state of mind without me, I heard a faint knock at the door. I opened it and the first thing I noticed was the long, straight red hair that flowed to the shoulders and dominated the small frame of the person in front of me.

“Can I come in?” Emma asked.

“Sure,” I said, slightly concerned that my lack of information on this woman might blow my cover and ruin my mission.

She sat down in one of the armchairs and crossed her legs. She looked nervous and uncomfortable as her eyes darted around the room, taking everything in.

“Where’s Ben?” I said.

“He’s at my mother’s, no doubt being spoiled rotten as we speak.”

I nodded as I remembered an excerpt from the diary.

“Look, Adam, I want to know what’s going on. I’m worried about you. I want you to be able to see your son again, he misses you, but your behaviour lately…” Emma’s voice trailed off. “Yesterday at the festival I couldn’t believe my eyes. You threatened a man and upset your son in the process.”

“That wasn’t what it looked like. The man was far from blameless… I was protecting a friend.”

She laughed bitterly and gazed up at the ceiling. “And I’m supposed to believe that? Adam, we both know your behaviour is fuelled by drink.”

“The man was an intruder, I saw it with my own eyes. He tried to break into a vulnerable woman’s home.”

Emma raised an eyebrow as she looked at me with a curious expression on her face.

“What woman? And why is she vulnerable? Is she elderly?”

“Not elderly, no, she’s in her late twenties.”

Emma looked annoyed. “Were you at the festival together?”

“Yes, she was there,” I replied calmly.

Emma shook her head as she gazed out of the window. She appeared angry but I didn’t know why. As far as I knew she and Adam were divorced.

“Well, no surprise that I’d bump into you at the Folk Festival. I suppose you were there for the home-brewed
refreshments,
” she said bitterly. “I bet your little
friend
also has an issue with drink, it’s probably how you met each other.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Like what? Sober? I bet it’s a novelty to you, isn’t it? I’m sure you and your new girlfriend have a good laugh about it.”

My hands clenched into fists at her last words.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said calmly, trying to control my anger. “And you hardly know her, where has this hostility come from?”

“I see I’ve hit a nerve. Are you sure you’re not together?”

“No, we’re not, and neither of us has an issue with alcohol.”

“You mean, you’re stone cold sober?”

“Yes, I’m sober, and long may it continue.”

Emma looked at the floor and then back at my face, where her gaze lingered for a while.

“I’m in shock.” She seemed almost apologetic. “I didn’t think it would ever happen.”

“Well, it did. I’m a better person than I was before. I did this for Ben, for my son. Please let me see him.”

“Well… I don’t know what to say.” She was silent for a while. “I need to think about this, it’s a lot to take in.”

“Take as much time as you need, just think about our son when you make your decision.”

Emma got up to leave, looking confused.

“Well, thanks for stopping by,” I said sincerely.

She nodded and turned towards the door before thinking better of it and turning back in my direction. To my surprise she reached for my shoulder and squeezed it gently.

“Well done, Adam. I am proud of you.” She hesitated. “Really proud.”

I nodded in response, not really knowing what to say. Her mood had changed dramatically and it was my turn to feel confused as I showed her out.

I looked down, saw the bright green flash of Kermit the frog and realised I was still in my pyjamas. I cursed Adam’s odd taste in nightwear and climbed the stairs to take a shower.

As the water washed over me I wondered what kind of relationship Adam and Emma must have had. Why was she so highly strung? Was Adam’s drinking the only reason? Either way she seemed to feel intense resentment towards him and that made me uncomfortable.

I changed quickly into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. The weather was set to cool off with thunderstorms forecast for the afternoon, but a glance outside told me the sun was still shining for now. It was Sunday and I was pondering how to spend my free time when a loud knock sounded at the front door. When I opened it I saw Russ, looking flushed and agitated.

“Is she here?” he asked.

“Who, Lucy?”

“Yeah.”

“No.” I looked at him closely. I doubted he’d even brushed his hair that morning. “Why? Is she missing?”

“You could say that.”

“What’s happened?”

“She had some bad news about an hour ago, was seen getting into her car and driving off erratically. I’m worried she’ll do something stupid.”

I looked at the floor and clenched my fists, gaining control of my reactions. Slowly I raised my eyes to meet Russ’s.

“What was the bad news?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“Jamie, he…” Russ focused on the wall behind me. “Something happened during the night and he went into cardiac arrest. He didn’t make it.”

I looked up at the sky for a moment. Then I grabbed my keys from the hook in the hallway.

“I’ll help you look for her.”

“Good lad. I’ve got one more place I think she might be. Best if we split up.”

“Sounds smart. I’ll have a ride out, see if I can find her.”

“Yeah, and if you notice any folk knocking about, ask them an’ all.”

I nodded. “Right you are.”

I watched Russ climb back into his car, frowning and narrow-eyed.

I fumbled with the lock on Adam’s bicycle in my haste to join the search party and realised that my hands were shaking. It wasn’t long before I felt the heat of the sun on my skin and took in the fresh scent of cut lawns. As I cycled around Grassington, I tried to think of the location Lucy was most likely to choose as her retreat.

Lucy was a creature of habit and a frequent visitor of places that brought her comfort. She used sites that held happy memories of the past as a way of coping with the stresses of daily life.

I cycled past neat rows of ash-coloured cottages and watched the villagers as they went about their day-to-day lives, each oblivious to the turmoil that engulfed Lucy. As I passed I shouted out to them and asked if they’d seen anyone matching her description. They shook their heads solemnly and assured me that they’d keep a look out for her. An older gentleman even had a tear in his eye as I described Lucy; he told me he had seen her picture in the paper, and offered to get out his old bicycle to spread the word of her disappearance. Due to his frailty, however, I felt it right to decline his help, yet my heart was warmed by his offer.

As I rode, I tried to think back to the moments in Lucy’s life that were important to her. A fishing trip with our fathers, the treehouse in my parents’ garden, her graduation. But none of these seemed important enough. It was only when I rode past the local church that a prominent memory was triggered.