The Life and Second Life of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 2) (6 page)

I watched her leave and wondered if my charade with the hammer had been uncovered.

She was halfway across the lawn when she turned back to look at me.

“Thank you for what you did earlier… With the reporter. I appreciate it.”

For a few seconds our eyes met. Something passed between us then, an old, familiar connection, and I desperately wanted her to stay.  

“I saw you,” she explained, “from the window. I was hiding from him.”

“Anything you need,” I said, still maintaining eye contact, “I’m here.”

She nodded and smiled at me before returning to the house with Snoop at her heels.

The afternoon passed slowly and by three o’clock my lower back had started to protest. I decided a break was well overdue and took a bottle of water out of my backpack. As I gulped at it I saw Lucy approach.

“Slacking, I see,” she joked.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back to work after my break.”

“I wasn’t being serious. I just came over to ask you a favour.”

“All right.”

“I need to take Snoop on his walk but I’m afraid there may still be reporters lurking. Would you mind being my escort?”

“I wouldn’t mind but Russ might. He is my employer.”

“Oh, I can handle Russ.”

I couldn’t think of anything else I’d rather do than take a casual stroll with Lucy in the sun; however, settling back into my old life was a fantasy I couldn’t afford to indulge in. I reminded myself that the time would come for me to leave this world behind, the gift I had been given for living an honest life on Earth was admission to the afterlife. I shouldn’t do anything to put that at risk since I was meant to return there soon. But the allure Lucy had always possessed overpowered me and I found I had already made my decision. I told myself her safety was the most important thing.

“Sure,” I said, a little too eagerly.

“Great,” she said, smiling brightly, while Snoop sat patiently by her side, his tail thumping an enthusiastic beat.

He sat for the harness and then we set off in the direction of the river. The air was humid and had slowly grown warmer throughout the day.  I could smell a tropical scent on Lucy’s skin that suggested she had applied sun cream not long ago. The scent brought with it memories of exotic holidays and lazy days out climbing the nearby fells before picnics amongst the heather.  

If the temperature rose above fifteen degrees on a cloudless day her pale, delicate skin would burn and she’d have to cover up her damaged skin for weeks.  A long side glance at Lucy told me that the first few summer freckles on her nose had begun to make an appearance, a sign of her recent holiday. Despite the fact that her hair was tied up in a messy bun on top of her head I could still see a few lighter strands that had been bleached by the sun, making her appear younger in years. As always she was wearing minimal makeup, but I could see a few lines had appeared underneath her eyes that weren’t there five years ago. Even though I had watched her throughout my absence, the visible signs of ageing in her were strange to me and the sight of them made me realise just how long we had been apart.  

“So do you live in the village?” she enquired.

“No, I live in Grassington.”

She beamed at me.

“I love Grassington. Do you live there alone?”

“Yeah, I like the quiet life. I’m a teacher so things can get hectic at times.”

“I didn’t know that,” she said, stopping to allow Snoop to sniff at a passing dog.

“Yeah, I teach English.”

“You’re braver than me,” she said with a smile, “I always hated school.”

“Really? Any particular reason?”

Her smile disappeared as she looked down at the overgrown grassy verge for a second.

“Just people with closed minds, I suppose.”

“There is a lot of that, unfortunately. The social grouping in schools is so complicated these days. You have the popular kids, usually identified by their arrogance and opinionated nature, then there are the smart kids – the ones who spend all of their spare time studying, usually to please a pushy parent.”

I stole a glance at Lucy.  Her eyes were narrowed in concentration, a sign that she was listening intently to my words.

“But in every year group I’ve taught there’s always been that one girl who appears to be more comfortable kicking a football with the boys than wielding a makeup brush with the girls.” I looked at her. “I bet you were like that.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“I was. How did you know?”

“Deduction.” I gestured towards her face. “You’re not wearing much makeup, and judging by the uniform you were wearing yesterday I guessed that you don’t have a traditional office job.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I’m impressed, not many people can read me like that.”

I shrugged while trying hard not to look smug. “It’s a gift.”

As we neared the village we both laughed simultaneously at Snoop’s obvious excitement at the sight of the slow-moving river ahead. The clear water glistened invitingly and a striking memory of Lucy and myself as children played out in front of me.  

When Lucy let Snoop free he made a beeline for the water’s edge. He panted heavily as his front paws splashed boisterously. We walked along the riverbank and took in the scenery we had spent many summer days gazing at in our youth. I felt an overwhelming nostalgia as we neared my parents’ house. I could see the treehouse we had built there when we were kids still standing proud in the back garden. Lucy noticed I was staring at it.

“This may come as a shock to you, but I helped build that treehouse. I think most of it is riddled with rot now but it was an important part of my childhood.”

I tried to think of something to say. Obviously I knew all this but, heeding God's warning, I couldn’t divulge my true identity. I tried to put myself in Adam’s shoes, to see Lucy with a fresh pair of eyes.

“Really? Is that your parents’ house?”

“No, actually, a childhood friend’s… well, his parents’ anyway.”

“Russ?”

“No. His name was Charlie.”

“Was?”

“He passed away five years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I said sadly. “Were you close?”

She looked into the distance.

“Yes, we were. We were engaged for a short time.”

I looked at her and tried to exchange just a flicker of eye contact. She continued to stare straight ahead, her expression unreadable.

“I’m very sorry, Lucy.” These were words I’d needed to say to her for so long.

She shrugged as if it was nothing.

“He was young… drunk. The river was fast-flowing that night, he couldn’t get out.”

“It must’ve been hard on you.”

She nodded and I saw fresh tears glint at the edge of her almond-shaped eyes. We walked in silence for a long time and I was about to change the subject when she spoke quietly.

“Now it feels like it’s happening all over again. They say history repeats itself.”

I stayed quiet, afraid that any words I spoke would silence her.

“I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You’ll never be alone, Luce.”

If she heard the comment she ignored it.

“Sometimes I wonder who exactly I married,” she whispered, a hint of desperation in her expression.

Before I could reply we heard footsteps approach from behind us.  

“I thought it was you, Lucy.”

The voice was cheerful and friendly and I recognised it instantly. My mother walked carefully towards us; she was wearing heels that weren’t designed for the rough terrain. Lucy gathered herself quickly and pasted on a beaming smile.

“Hi, Mrs Brackwood. What brings you here?”

“I saw you through the bedroom window.” She looked at me suspiciously. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Adam, he’s helping me with some jobs at the house. He’s a teacher,” Lucy added in an attempt to reassure my mother.

“Hi,” I said, offering her my hand.

“Hi,” she said back, looking at me through narrowed eyes.  “Lucy could use some help around the house. Are you a church goer, Adam?”

“Yes, I am.”

“It’d be nice to see you at the Sunday service.”

“Actually Adam lives in Grassington,” Lucy interrupted, “I’m sure he has his own local church.”

“I wouldn’t mind visiting yours. I hear its architecture is pretty spectacular.”

“It absolutely is,” said my mother, smiling. “Well, I’d better be on my way, I have a function to attend. I just wanted to say hello.” She turned to me. “Nice to meet you, Adam.”

“You too, Mrs Brackwood.”

As she turned to leave my mother whispered loudly to Lucy, “I like him.”

Lucy failed to hide her growing smile.

Chapter Six

I watched my mother leave and was shocked by the sadness I’d felt when she didn’t recognise me. I realised there was a part of me that had hoped she would know my true identity without needing a second look; mothers are supposed to feel a strong bond to their children. But there was nothing. Not even a flicker.

As we made our way back to the house I noticed a light breeze blowing from the river. It made a change from the hot air that surrounded us and we were both grateful for it. The sun hung brightly in a cloudless sky and its invisible rays warmed the aching muscles in my back and shoulders. I looked down and saw Snoop panting heavily as his wet fur began to dry in the heat.

The conversation my mother had interrupted was not continued and I got the impression Lucy’s previous revelation had caused her some embarrassment. It wasn’t often that she let her guard down, and when she did she would never reveal much. I was amazed she’d divulged the things she had to a complete stranger.

As we walked she asked me further questions about myself. Did I have any hobbies? Siblings? Was I close to my parents? How long had I been teaching? I stumbled with my answers and told her I was an only child, that I was extremely close to my parents and that I had been teaching since my early twenties. I told her my hobbies include cycling and fishing and that I was also interested in classic car restoration. Which were all true of me, but I had no idea how to answer these questions as Adam might have, his diary hadn’t revealed much so far. Lucy nodded at my answers and seemed relaxed in my presence – something I was grateful for as it would be hard to protect her if she was suspicious of me.

As we neared the house Lucy told me a funny story about Snoop involving an escape attempt and a children’s paddling pool. We laughed hysterically at the thought of the dog being found in a neighbour’s garden, splashing around in their plastic pool and scaring the living daylights out of the neighbourhood kids in the process. We were laughing so hard that we failed to notice Russ’s approach.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked Lucy in a harsh-sounding voice.

“We just went for a walk with Snoop. Poor bugger was going stir crazy in the house.”

“I told you to stay inside. These reporters are crafty, you know, they could be anywhere watching you. All they care about is twisting your words so everyone will point the finger,” he said angrily. “Scum, the lot of them.”

“Well, that’s why I had Adam with me,” said Lucy, clearly irritated at being ticked off.

Russ turned to me then and his dark eyes gleamed dangerously.

“I don’t employ you so you can go on nice little country strolls in the sun.”

I chose to stay silent but held my hands up to show him I wasn’t a threat, that I didn’t want any trouble. Lucy seemed to sense the beginnings of a violent outburst and placed herself between Russ and me. For a second it was as if nothing had changed – we were still rivals for the affection of the girl we had both grown up with.

“Adam came with me because I asked him to. He was protecting me,” Lucy said angrily.

Russ held my eye for a long time. The steel-grey flecks near his pupils shone in the bright light and it was a while before the crease between his brows disappeared and the anger in his eyes slowly diminished. To my relief, he took a step back.

“Just remember why I employ you.” He turned away and entered the garden through the side gate. “I’ll start on tea,” he called to Lucy over his shoulder.

“Ignore him,” she said as we stared after him. “He seems tough but he’s a big teddy bear really. He thinks it’s his sole function in life to protect me… keep me safe, like I’m some fragile little doll.”

“You’re lucky to have someone like that, who will put you first.”

Lucy’s eyes squinted in concentration as she looked at me.

“Yeah,” she finally said, then glanced away.

The wind had begun to pick up. Time I was on my way.

“I’d better be going.”

Lucy nodded. “Have a nice evening, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

During the ride home I couldn’t get the image of Russ’s hostile expression out of my mind. He still had feelings for Lucy after all this time. He was still unable to move on.

When I reached the cottage there were many questions about the days events that I wanted answered. Lucy was now a suspect in the eyes of the police but what evidence did they have? Why did she doubt the person she’d married? I knew there was more to it … that she knew more than she was saying. I wondered whether she had found or heard something that had raised her suspicions.

After supper, I realised darkness had crept over my surroundings while I had been distracted by my thoughts. I drew the curtains to shut out the unwelcome gloom that appeared to have enveloped the village and settled into an old-fashioned armchair by the fire. I turned all the lights off and watched the flames dance and lick at the air. The heat was comforting and it wasn’t long before my body began to relax and my eyelids grew heavy.  

I woke up suddenly, drowsy from a short but deep sleep. The sharp sound of rain on the windowpanes produced a random rhythm that was almost musical. The rain increased in intensity and I felt grateful for the roof over my head and the warmth and comfort that a roaring fire brings. Summer days in Yorkshire would often end like this, sweltering hot followed by cold, harsh downpours in the evenings. Avid gardeners were usually grateful for the rain, whereas light sleepers would be agitated by its sudden arrival. 

I heard a faint tap over the noise of the downpour. I waited. Every muscle in my body tensed as I strained to hear. I heard the noise again and realised it was coming from the hallway.

Tap.  Tap. Tap.
 

In one swift movement I got out of the chair and made my way over to the front door. Peering through the peephole, I saw a man with his hood up and face averted, no doubt protecting it from the sharp wind. I opened the door, expecting the visitor to be a salesman or charity collector, and prepared myself for the hard sell that these people were experts at.

The man slowly lifted his head as he heard the door opening. He was soaking wet, with drops of rain dripping off his nose. His wet hair glistened under the security light above him. His hands were shoved into his jacket, causing his posture to appear slightly hunched.

“Russ?” I said in surprise.

He raised his head slightly and looked up at me, frowning. “Can I come in?”

I led him to the living room, where I took his coat and gestured for him to sit down in the armchair closest to the fire. I remembered Adam’s stash of alcohol and offered him a beer. He took me up on my offer and we sat in silence as we swigged our beers in unison. Almost immediately my body felt doubly alive. It was a phenomenon I had no memory of in my past life.

“How did you know where I lived?”

“I don’t, but Grassington is a small place. I figured someone would know you,” he said light-heartedly.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I saw a woman in town. Youngish, quite attractive. She pointed me in this direction.” Russ smirked. “Didn’t seem to be a fan of yours,” he said casually as he took another swig.

I had no idea who this might be but I was aware there were some people in the village who had taken a dislike to me, for reasons I had yet to discover.

“What can I do for you?” I kept my tone pleasant.

“Lucy sent me,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “She thinks I was rude to you earlier, so as usual I’ve had to do as I’m told.” He smirked again. “She thinks I should apologise.”  

I was a little taken aback by this: apologies were rare for Russ. He got himself into scrapes often but was generally too proud to apologise or make amends. As a result many of the villagers thought less well of him than they should. He was arrogant, yes, but it was mainly a facade, just another way to rebel against the order and control he had grown up with. He had always taken great pleasure in embarrassing his uptight and conventional parents with his wild and daring behaviour.

“You were just protecting her, I’m a stranger to you folks, I understand that.”

He took another swig of his beer, taking in what I’d said with no visible reaction. “Well, she’s usually right, our Luce. I was too harsh, but she’s vulnerable.” His brow furrowed. “She’s been through more than either of us have,” his voice grew soft as he spoke of her, “and probably ever will in our lifetime.”

“I’m sorry to hear about her husband, it must be a rough time for her,” I said, taking another swig of beer. “I hope he makes a full recovery.” The words were hard for me to say but they seemed appropriate for Adam in the circumstances.

Russ shook his head, eyes dark with a sudden hint of irritation. “I don’t,” he said quietly.

“Do the two of you not get on?”

“You could say that. He’s no good for her.” Russ stared at the fire, just as I had done earlier that evening.

“Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s the truth. They’ve never seemed right together. Just a bit off key.” He turned to me. “You know… like there’s something out of place.”

“They aren’t comfortable with each other?”

“Nah, they get on… too well actually. I’ve never witnessed one argument between them, but I’ve seen Lucy happier.”

“With someone else?”

“Aye, someone who quarrelled and battled with her, made her see sense enough to change her ways.” Russ shrugged as he stared at the fire. “I don’t know. She just seems unhappy sometimes… lonely.”

I thought about Lucy’s husband's occupation “I suppose doctors do work long hours, maybe that's what it is.”

Russ looked up suddenly. “Nah, it’s got nothing to do with that. There’s something not right there.”

He started to get up out of his chair and for a second I thought it was the start of another confrontation. He walked over to the window and peered through a crack in the curtains.

“I can’t be there for her as often as I’d like to be, due to my dry stone walling business, but I trust you,” Russ declared. He looked back at me from his position by the window. “Do me a favour? Look out for her and report any unusual behaviour to me. I’d really appreciate it, Adam.”

I nodded. “I won’t let you down.” It was a promise that came easy to me.

“Thanks, bud. It feels good to know she has someone close by.” He glanced at the door. “Time I was going, I think. Thanks for accepting my apology, I’m glad we cleared the air.”

“Me too.” I smiled at him before he let himself out.

The sound of the wind and rain lashing the old, weathered stones of the cottage could be heard during the few seconds the door was open. I shuddered as the cold wind enveloped me in its icy embrace. During nights like this Lucy and I would huddle together under a soft lamb’s wool blanket in the treehouse and gaze at the stars through the glass ceiling.

The urge for more beer came out of the blue and, without realising it, I had opened another bottle. I was never a big drinker and didn’t understand Russ’s love of alcohol but perhaps I had missed it more than I’d realised?

As I downed the ale I ran through my conversation with him once more. There had been a sense of unease in it that I found impossible to ignore. It was true what Russ had said, I had made Lucy happy. It saddened me to realise that she hadn’t experienced the same level of contentment since my departure. I knew how easy it was to love her, but if Russ’s fears were to be believed, it certainly sounded as if she had stumbled hastily into a loveless marriage. Had there been any proper feeling between them? If she’d rushed into things too quickly with the doctor, what was her motive? Except for a temporary lack of mental stability in her last year of university, imprudent and careless behaviour was not the norm for Lucy. She was level-headed and self-disciplined, the kind of person who had to have her life planned out and every possible outcome carefully considered before she made any decision.

A clap of thunder rumbled loudly over the sound of the violent rainfall outside and a white flash lit the room. A second later the house was plunged into darkness. I had turned the lights on during Russ’s visit but now only the glow of the embers in the hearth emitted a small amount of light that cast ghostly shadows around the room. I decided I needed another source and so went in search of candles. I began to open drawers and cupboards in the sitting room, riffling through personal belongings I should have left undisturbed.

In my search I found a child’s drawing of a monster, an old teething ring complete with small tooth marks, a collection of model railway magazines dating back to the eighties and a birth certificate. Under a pile of birthday cards I found a large, hardback book that I guessed was a photo album.

Desperately in need of some light, I threw more logs on the smouldering embers in the grate, in the hope that they would ignite and bring back the warm glow the fire had produced earlier in the evening. After it had morphed from weak cinders into a steady, comforting blaze, I placed the album in front of the deep orange glow. I turned it over and saw the words ‘Adam and Emma’s Memories’ written neatly across the front.

I opened the first page and saw an image of myself – or at least the face I now saw in the mirror each morning. Adam looked carefree and youthful in this picture and I placed his age in the late teens. His hair was long and curled slightly at his ears and over his neck. I started to wonder who he had been back then. A rebel, a joker, a smooth-talking Casanova? Some would say he had the looks for it. Or was he more the quiet, unassuming, intellectual type? I didn’t know and that bothered me. He wasn’t smiling in the picture, in fact he looked dejected and downcast. The caption underneath was handwritten and stated: