Close Your Eyes: A gripping psychological thriller with a killer twist!
Close Your Eyes: A gripping psychological thriller with a killer twist!
Darren O’Sullivan
Close your eyes…and count to ten.‘I was gripped by this taut and emotional thriller.’ Louise Jensen, author of The Sister.‘A well crafted, nail biting thriller crammed with unpredictable twists. It wrong foots you with a killer twist that will have you re-reading because you can’t believe you didn’t see it coming.’ John Marrs, author of The One‘I thought it was absolutely brilliant – really fast-paced, and packed full of action.’ Lisa Hall, author of Between You and MeHe doesn’t know his name. He doesn’t know his secret.When Daniel woke up from a coma he had no recollection of the life he lived before. Now, fourteen years later, he’s being forced to remember.A phone call in the middle of the night demands he return what he stole – but Daniel has no idea what it could be, or who the person on the other end is. He has been given one warning, if he doesn’t find out his family will be murdered.Rachael needs to protect her son. Trapped with no way out she will do anything to ensure they survive. But sometimes mothers can’t save their children and her only hope is Daniel’s memory.Perfect for fans of Holly Seddon, Gillian Flynn and BA Paris.From the best-selling author of Our Little Secret comes a new psychological thriller with a shocking twist.Praise for Darren O’Sullivan:‘Immensely talented new author.’ John Marrs, author of The One and When You Disappeared‘Engrossing, compelling and twisty from the first page to the shocking ending. This book grabbed me and didn't let go.’ Michele Campbell author of It’s Always the Husband'Unique and utterly compelling. This twisty psychological thriller will chill you to the bones.' Gemma Metcalfe author of Trust Me‘A stellar and original concept, brilliantly executed. The final chapters had my heart in my throat! O’Sullivan is certainly one to watch.’ Phoebe Morgan, author of The Doll House
He doesn’t know his name. He doesn’t know his secret.
When Daniel woke up from a coma he had no recollection of the life he lived before. Now, fourteen years later, he’s being forced to remember.
A phone call in the middle of the night demands he return what he stole – but Daniel has no idea what it could be, or who the person on the other end is. He has been given one warning: if he doesn’t find out, his family will be murdered.
Rachael needs to protect her son. Trapped with no way out she will do anything to ensure they survive. But sometimes mothers can’t save their children and her only hope is Daniel’s memory.
Perfect for fans of Holly Seddon, Gillian Flynn and BA Paris.
Also by Darren O’Sullivan
Our Little Secret
Close Your Eyes…
Darren O’Sullivan
ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
Copyright (#ulink_01065c56-dff6-5934-86f9-e15bd26ec8c2)
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018
Copyright © Darren O’Sullivan 2018
Darren O’Sullivan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008277864
Version: 2018-05-01
DARREN O’SULLIVAN was born in Slough in 1982 but moved to Peterborough when he was 17 to train in performing arts. He has been working creatively ever since, first as an actor for the stage, then director. Five years ago he felt inspired to write theatre and from that came the idea to develop a novel.
To Helen, because time is the most precious gift, and one you have given me.
Contents
Cover (#u18c7e9ee-c0b1-57c4-8c36-cb2f9077d17c)
Blurb (#u0fa4c908-5191-5859-a3e2-13ec753654d2)
Booklist (#ulink_0b2a4a1d-c9e7-59cb-afa4-0b4f8997edbf)
Title Page (#ueee1c105-bd85-5d26-83e4-75c023761632)
Copyright (#ulink_07deba24-515c-5ced-b6e2-df378e74aac9)
Author Bio (#u7e0d2950-d4f1-5f76-8320-f379560be6ea)
Dedication (#u5c355dcc-1d07-5887-a545-6b6135fee787)
Prologue (#ulink_9343787e-ca79-5dbb-9d35-f0fcd451af58)
Chapter One (#ulink_1e7a774b-348a-5a4b-b6c2-30e24c9ff6b7)
Chapter Two (#ulink_5bd8bbf6-3416-5cd5-b4f0-e45fd95ece37)
Chapter Three (#ulink_7a7c1e62-b68c-56c9-b07a-e2bd81f90094)
Chapter Four (#ulink_d9502380-f6e7-53e1-92ab-0b2c78467816)
Chapter Five (#ulink_59b44cb9-bae7-519d-a6be-d7bf238d655f)
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Excerpt (#u0fcd948d-4de3-54ab-bea9-58c78c9b6080)
Endpages (#u0d24fa7b-498c-5b81-92b6-09a8e0afb24a)
About the Publisher
Prologue (#ulink_61a93bb4-53d0-55d8-bd79-ce8d97cb06cd)
Daniel
Sheringham
5th January 2018
Breathe.
Just breathe.
That was all I had to do. And yet it was impossible. Lying on the ground, the cold seeping through to my back and chest, I stared up at the sky. Unblinking. A sheet of nothingness stretching in all directions. Flat and smooth and devoid of anything I could identify with, devoid of anything I could latch hope onto. Just grey. I looked anyway, for something, anything that meant there was more. My eyes stung, I needed to blink. But I didn’t dare. I knew if I did, my eyes might not open again. And grey was better than the black of what was surely to come.
Ironically, grey was the colour that made up my past, made up who I was, made up my memories. I had fought against it, now, it was all I had left. The only thing to hold on to. Grey was a friend all along.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
The pain was too much, the knowledge of what was coming next too constricting. I knew I would pass out soon. I could feel it creeping up my arms and legs. A stillness as my extremities conceded defeat. The blood flowing from my body was unstoppable, it came from too many places. My life was leaking out, a millilitre at a time, forming a pool in which I lay. It warmed the concrete around me, inviting me to relax, to accept. And it didn’t hurt, it didn’t matter.
I wasn’t scared of what was next, part of me knew it was inevitable. It didn’t even matter where I went once I died, all that mattered was that life would continue. The storm would end, spring would come. Summer would burn and then winter would return. It would do so for many, many years. There would be laughter and love. There would be success and change. There would be children growing to become adults who would have their own children one day. Then there would be peace as it came to an end, only to be replaced with another winter, another summer for ever and ever.
I was just a very small part of a much bigger picture.
I was just a single paint brush stroke on a canvas that was the entire world. A single small stroke of paint. One that was never very vibrant or colourful. More shading than subject.
Just before I closed my eyes for the final time there was a small gap in the grey, just enough for me to see beyond it. A small space of the brightest blue I had ever seen. Pure. Untouched by the past five days.
And that bit of blue, it told me everything would be okay, for the one person that it was all for.
And that was what mattered.
One week earlier
Chapter 1 (#ulink_6b1af4b6-81f7-5f44-a277-cfc865f8396a)
Daniel
Stamford
29
December 2017, 7.48 a.m.
A long time ago I was told that the moments that were truly important in life were the moments we carry forward and recall on our deathbeds. Things like the perfect sunset. The moment we fall in love. A passing of someone dear.
As I lay in my bed, I was doing exactly that, as coming from the room next door was the sound of Thomas and Katie, talking and playing together. Their voices were my two most favourite sounds. Katie said something I couldn’t quite make out, but whatever it was it made Thomas laugh and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I wanted to join them. But not yet, first I would use my senses as I had been taught.
It was a doctor who told me to let my subconscious take over when it mattered. A doctor who was one of the many I had fifteen years ago in the days, weeks and months after I woke up in a hospital bed. But he was the only one I would never forget. He was the one who first told me what had happened and helped me understand my life had re-begun. He helped me make sense of the facts. I was a broken body that didn’t know where it was. A broken body that didn’t know its name. A broken body whose even more broken mind couldn’t comprehend that it once had a past that it may never see again. Its memories, my memories, like all memories, tiny bubbles that contained joy and happiness, sadness, fear. Only mine had all been popped.
Our conversation, the one that helped to save me from the pit of despair I was in, came on a grey February morning. I was sitting staring out of the window nearest my bed, trying to find a reason to carry on and he, doing his morning rounds, approached. Noticing I was lost in thought he asked me what I saw. I told him I saw drizzle, darkness before looking away from the window, back to nothing in particular.
‘What about the trees?’
‘What about them?’
‘What do you see when you look at them?’
Sighing, I looked outside again, to humour the doctor. Thinking if I did he would go away and leave me alone.
‘They look dead,’ I said, holding his eye. I almost followed it up with a comment about how they were lucky, but stopped myself. The doctor sat on the end of my bed and looked outside. I watched him, wondering what he was doing. Doctors usually rushed in and out. I didn’t blame them retrospectively, I was intolerable to be around. I waited for him to say something, but for a long time he just sat, looking out of the window, a small smile on his face. The silence was too much.
‘What do you see?’ I questioned.
‘The same as you at first glance.’
‘So then why ask?’
‘Because I wanted to see how hard you looked.’
‘Doc, you aren’t making sense. If you don’t mind, I want to be left alone.’
He looked at me, the smile unmoving and nodded.
‘Before I do, Daniel, humour me once more and look again at the trees, but this time, look closer. Focus on the tree tops. Look at the way they are moving in the wind. Look at the very tips of those branches. What can you see?’
Reluctantly I did what he said and looked again, having to hide my astonishment when I focused on where he told me to. The trees may have looked dead at first glance, but as I focused I saw their tips starting to show the signs of sprouting buds that would become leaves eventually, they would attract birds who would nest and raise families. As he spoke I could almost smell the sweet scent a sapling gives off in spring. But I didn’t remember any springs, or summers, or autumns. Only winter, the one I watched from my window. I learnt that the small act of stopping to let my senses work properly helped me see something wonderful that was always there, and the morning wasn’t quite so dreary anymore. As he left my hospital room he told me if we embrace the stillness from time to time, we capture the moment entirely. His final words to me were that letting myself see the small things that really mattered wouldn’t help me remember my past, but it might just help me have a future. That day, I knew I could learn to hold on to the precious moments that were to come in my life. Things I would experience going forwards, and they could be wonderful if I let them, despite not knowing anything about the past. Shortly after that moment with the smiling doctor I was told I would be going home soon. I never saw that doctor again.
I have had several moments in the fifteen short years that I can remember where I have done exactly that. I stopped, I became still, and in doing so I made sure those moments were branded permanently in my mind so that no matter what may happen I would never forget them. Moments likes the two occasions I have fallen in love. The first time to Rachael, traditional, sweet, and almost as far back as I can remember. Two people who were nervous and excited. Full of possibilities. That first kiss suspending me above myself. I didn’t know then, but that first kiss would eventually lead to another wonderful moment when Rachael told me I was going to be a dad. A box presented to me, inside being a positive pregnancy test, a card and baby grow. Tears that fell and warmed my cheeks. Her smile, unfiltered.
The biggest moment of all is reserved for the day my son was born, six years ago. Although it feels like six minutes. His tiny body helpless and defenceless. His beautiful little head that fitted perfectly in my palm as I carried him towards his mummy who lay on the operating table post-caesarean. His cry, his voice. As I carefully moved towards her, his eye found mine and changed everything I assumed I knew about myself.
But there is also the second time I fell in love, more recently, to my Katie. Our meeting and dating coming from a place that was wiser, but no less powerful.
I may have had more of these moments in the years before 2003. But I would never know. Mum prefers never to speak of the time before the accident; it’s not important she tells me. I know that they’re memories that she doesn’t want to relive and I’m not interested in finding out about them, not when I have no way of remembering. She’s more focused on the man I am now – on rebuilding my life after what happened. She has spoken of my kindness though, my ability to love others and to jump into situations too quickly. Sometimes I will catch her staring into space and I just know she’s recalling another time, another me.
In some ways, me losing my past is harder for her, she has to mourn for the man I once was without mourning at all, and I knew, despite how much I wanted to know about the me before, that if I asked her outright, she might break her silence, spilling the bottled-up emotions she held on to for my benefit. Something I couldn’t do to her; she has been through enough. So I left it alone and focused on the now and the future. Which was Thomas and Katie.
From his bedroom I heard Thomas tell Katie what Santa had left him at Mummy’s house before asking her to build a tower from the Lego my mum had bought him. His voice was followed by the crashing sound of hundreds of plastic blocks being poured onto his bedroom floor. It wasn’t the words spoken or the sounds of Katie and Thomas building that would form into a lasting memory, but the context.
The woman I loved and the boy who means more than anything else in the world to me had formed a relationship that didn’t need me to mediate. I wasn’t required for them to be able to play and talk. I wasn’t needed for them to be able to know and care for one another. And, with what I had planned for after New Year, Katie and Thomas caring for one another in such a way was essential.
Katie still thought I was asleep. I knew because she was speaking in her quiet whispery tones despite Thomas not lowering his voice at all. Truth was, I’d not really been asleep since just after 4 a.m. A dream, my dream, waking me early. The same one I had been having for over a year. The one of the accident that took away my memories and the life before.
Slipping out of bed I tiptoed towards Thomas’s room. As I stepped in, I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the sight of them sat next to each other, him leaning into her as they built some sort of tower that stood about eighteen inches tall. Katie saw me first as Thomas was concentrating on his building task, and she smiled, looking from me to Thomas before resting her chin on his head. Her eyes told me everything. She was happy that he let her be close, she was content. After just over a year, he was treating her like part of his family. She mouthed a good morning to me, and I mouthed it back before turning my attention to my fixated boy.
‘Morning, Thomas.’
He looked up at me, a smile spreading across his face.
‘Daddy, look at the robot Katie and me made.’
‘Wow, did you two really make this?’
‘Yep’
‘All by yourselves?’
‘Yep.’
‘That’s amazing. You are both very clever.’
‘Well, Thomas did most of the building, I just helped where I could,’ Katie said, focusing on Thomas as she spoke.
‘Well then, I’m even more impressed. Bit of a clever one, aren’t you?’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes, look at your robot. I doubt there is anything you can’t do. Are you two hungry? Shall I make some breakfast?’
‘Not yet, Daddy.’
‘Okay, no rush.’
‘What time are you meeting Will today?’ Katie asked, her smile shrinking, morphing into a tight one that she always held firmly in place when she was trying not to be worried about how I would feel after seeing my therapist.
‘Not till 2.30, so we can take our time this morning.’
‘Do you want me to come?’
‘No it’s okay. I’ll drop Thomas back at his mum’s earlier than usual this week.’
‘Daddy, can I stay up here and play a little longer? I want to build a racing car.’
‘Of course you can. Do you want me to help?’
‘No. I want Katie to.’
‘You want Katie to?’ I said looking once again to my girlfriend, not even trying to supress my smile.
‘Right, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be downstairs, come down whenever you’re ready.’
Once downstairs I flicked on the kettle before sitting at my kitchen table. I quietly drank my coffee and looked into my garden as the lazy sun forced its way over the horizon and listened to them talk above my head. Thomas laughed, his infectious giggle making Katie laugh as well.
Not knowing my past is a huge part of my present, and the questions that remain unanswered about me will be ones I will carry forever. But, listening to my son and my love playing in a bedroom above me, I let myself believe that the questions I had, scars I carried, wouldn’t be the future of me.
The future was now. The future was upstairs and everything about it was definitely real.
Chapter 2 (#ulink_3d5a0e85-0bf0-521b-9caf-712cb6a21a3b)
Daniel
Stamford
29
December 2017, 3.18 p.m.
It turned out I didn’t need to take Thomas back to his mother’s early after all, as Katie suggested that they went to the park to play whilst I met up with Will. Then we could take Thomas back to his mum’s together. Before I could say anything, Tom was putting his shoes on to leave.
‘Are you sure, Katie?’
‘Of course. We’ve not spent this much time together before.’
‘Honestly, it doesn’t matter if we take him back.’
‘Dan, honestly. It will be fine. I love your little boy. I want to spend some time alone with him.’
‘Katie, come on, let’s go!’ Thomas said, pulling on her jumper and away from me.
‘Right, you need to wear a hat and gloves, it’s freezing out there today,’ she said playfully whilst trying to wrestle his coat on. I asked if she needed a hand, but she told me she was fine.
I had known Katie for two years. She had known Thomas for just over one, and after kissing them both I watched them walk out of the house without me for the first time. It felt good, and weird all at once.
With the house quiet, I got myself ready and drove to Will’s for our session. The hour we spent together mostly followed the same routine as usual, we talked about how I’m feeling, I told him about how I remembered the taste of blood in my mouth, and the pain of a broken bone.
‘Have you told anyone about this?’ he asked.
‘Yes, my mother.’
‘But not Katie?’
‘No, not Katie.’
‘What did your mum say?’
‘She laughed and told me I had been watching too many action movies.’
He agreed; it was my imagination faking memories. I knew the term for it, confabulation. It was common for people with my condition.
As I left we scheduled our next meeting to be just after the Easter weekend. But he told me if anything new happened that I wanted to talk through, he was always on the end of the phone.
In the car on the way back I let myself reflect on my chance encounter with Katie; I often did so after seeing Will. I guess it was because with Will we spoke of a past I didn’t know, but thinking about how Katie and I met, that was from a past I did and our memories, our past, helped me supress the knot in my stomach that sometimes swelled.
Pulling up on the side of the road by the park, I could see the two people I love the most in the distance. He was climbing the ladder to the top of the slide and Katie stood close by, her face glowing in the cold weather. As I walked towards them I took it all in. The crisp winter air, the sound of the breeze creaking through the limbs of the exposed trees. Thomas’s laugh over it. Her laugh. Bright and unreserved.
Thomas saw me approaching and waved. I was expecting him to run over for a cuddle, but he was so wrapped up in playing that he carried on running from the slide to the swings, dragging Katie with him. He climbed into the bucket seat and asked Katie to push him. It warmed me despite it being so cold that the frost had not melted from the night before. I watched them, not wanting to interrupt for a few minutes, and then glanced down at my watch and sighed. It was nearly time to go. It would be getting dark soon. But I didn’t want to move, I wanted to stay in this moment forever. The cold air, the warm laughs.
Thomas shouted for Katie to push him harder, although she was clearly pushing with all of her strength. He was swinging so high it made my stomach turn. Each time he swung into the air I was sure he would shoot off the seat and fly ten feet into the air before hitting the frozen floor. I felt my muscles in my legs ready to spring, my arms ready to catch. He was screaming and for a moment I saw a flash of something from before. It was dark, almost pitch black, a woman’s scream echoed, her shrill bouncing off a low ceiling, and I was running, hard, and crashed through a door.
As quick as it landed it was gone. It took me a moment to realize he was screaming in glee and she was smiling and making rocket noises behind him. He was fine. They both were. Katie looked at me, a quizzical expression on her face. She had seen my reaction. I smiled weakly at her, trying to assure her that everything was fine. No doubt another moment of confabulation; I had seen something similar on the BBC perhaps, and mistaken it for a memory.
I turned my attention back to Thomas, shaking the last of the adrenaline that shot into my chest. I looked at his hands wrapped around the freezing chains, and his feet dragging across the ground each time he passed. It amazed me how big he was getting. Time moving at a pace that I couldn’t keep up with changing him from a defenceless baby, to a gabbling toddler, to a little boy with his own mind and ideas and plans for who he wanted to be. Thomas shouted he was going to be sick and the swing slowed down, being grabbed from behind by Katie to help the process.
I watched as he jumped off, and grabbing her hand he dragged her to the roundabout to push him on it. She smiled over at me and I smiled back. She was good with him and looked so happy. I wanted to get up and join in, but it was important for them to have their time alone.
There was no doubt that Katie and I had a future together. I had known it for just about as long as I had known her, despite not wanting to admit it at the time. She was kind and thoughtful, and her laugh lit a fire. When she learnt about my condition she didn’t judge, she didn’t ask questions. She accepted it, and me. She offered patience when I occasionally forgot a word, and she would soothe me when I woke from a bad dream as the crash haunted me. Because of her I had pieced together some small moments from the boy I once was. We discovered that when I was drifting to sleep she could ask me questions and occasionally things would lift from my subconscious. She wrote them down and sometimes I would recall what it meant. If only for a moment. When I had my lightning bolts of recollection of past moments, she waited until I was ready to say what I had seen. Her patience and understanding were more than I felt I deserved at times.
As Thomas continued to scream for Katie to spin him faster and faster I let myself picture a future with us three in it, just for a second until it was broken by Thomas running over to me, dizzy and smiling from ear to ear.
‘Daddy, did you see how fast I was spinning?’
‘I did,’ I replied smiling back.
‘Come and spin with me.’
‘Thomas, darling, it’s time to start heading back.’
‘Do we have to, Daddy?’
‘I’m afraid so. But don’t worry, next weekend will come quickly, and we will have the whole weekend together to play games and go out for yummy food. How does that sound?’
‘Can we go ice-skating?’
‘We can even do that.’
‘Will Katie be there too?’
‘Would you like her to be?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah?’ I said grabbing my boy and hugging him tightly. ‘Well, let’s see what Daddy can do.’
I took his little hand and the three of us started to walk towards the cars, Thomas pausing to grab hold of Katie’s as well so we could swing him between us. With the sun setting behind us, our shadows were stretching out over the frosty ground. The three of us, hand in hand walking together.
Back at our cars I gave Katie a kiss and told her I wouldn’t be long. She and Rachael knew each other and got along well. We often met up with her and her new husband, Sean, for dinner. She liked him too, as did I. As hard as it was to accept that Rachael had moved on, at least it was with a decent man who Thomas really liked. After they had first met, Sean called me to talk about how he wasn’t trying to replace me in Thomas’s life. Like he had replaced me in Rachael’s.
Thomas was nearly four when we, actually she, decided it was best for us to separate, for the sake of our son. It had broken my heart. More because I wouldn’t be with Thomas night after night. But we both knew it would be the best thing for him in the long term. No courts would be involved. I could talk with Thomas whenever I wanted and big events, like birthdays and Christmases we still came together, even when she had married Sean. We did it for Thomas at first, to make sure he didn’t feel like he wasn’t loved because of love breaking down in other places. But now, we did it because, despite everything, we were friends. That’s why the five of us would all be seeing in the new year together, as a giant family.
Although Rachael and Katie got along, Katie didn’t come with me to drop Thomas off. She said it was time for his mother and father to catch up, to make plans for the coming week and ensure things ran as smoothly as possible for him. The little things, like this, made it easy to love her.
As I unlocked the car, Thomas let go and ran back to Katie to give her a hug. His little arms wrapping around her waist. Katie kissed the top of his head and then smiled at me, the kind of smile that made me want to burst. He said goodbye and ran back over, climbing into his car seat. Katie mouthed that she loved me, and I mouthed it back. She blew me a kiss, got into her car and drove away. I watched her disappear down the road.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_d027050d-28c8-5e06-9981-10a9c97fe01a)
Daniel
Stamford
29
December 2017, 3.41 p.m.
‘All strapped in tightly.’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Great, shall we take you home, little man?’
Getting into the driver’s seat I looked at Thomas through the rear-view mirror, watching him smile at the other children who were now playing on the swings he had been. Content, I began the ten-minute drive back to Rachael’s house, the sound of the radio playing quietly above the hum of the car. I wanted to talk about Katie, it took me a few minutes to work out how. If I appeared too nonchalant he might think his view, or my feelings, didn’t matter, and they did, very much. If I went in too gung-ho it might freak him out. I took a deep breath.
‘Thomas?’
I waited for a response, one that was not forthcoming, as Thomas was so wrapped up in people-watching through the car window. So, I turned down the radio, which lifted him from his trance.
‘Thomas, I want to talk to you about Katie.’
‘What about her?’
‘Did you enjoy spending time alone with her today?’
‘Yes, she’s great.’
‘What else do you think about her?’
‘What do you mean, Daddy?’
Pausing for a moment I thought about the best way to answer.
‘I mean, well …’
‘What do you think about her, Daddy?’
Thomas’s question caught me off guard and knowing I needed to be honest I pulled over into a layby, put on the handbrake and turned to be eye to eye with my son.
‘I care about her a lot.’
‘You mean you love her?’
‘How would you feel if I did?’
‘Well, Mummy loves Sean.’
‘She does love Sean, very much.’
‘Then you should love Katie.’
‘Should I?’
‘Yes, Daddy. I don’t like thinking of you on your own when Mummy has Sean’
‘Thomas, you don’t ever have to worry about me, okay? I’m fine.’
I looked into his big green eyes. I could feel him really caring. He was such a bright, bright boy.
‘I’m more than fine,’ I said. ‘Are you really okay with the idea of Katie and me?’
‘Of course, Daddy. Can we go home now? I’m getting hungry’.’
I laughed. ‘Before we do, can I ask you a really big question, one I want you to answer as honestly as you can. And don’t worry about what I might feel, this question is about how you feel …’
‘Daddy, if you love her, you should marry her.’
I smiled at my wonderful, intelligent boy, who in that moment looked at me with a wisdom beyond his years. I could feel myself welling up with pride.
‘You’re a brilliant boy, you know that, right?’
‘Uh-huh, can we go now?’
‘Of course, darling. Let’s get you home.’
Turning to face the road again I started the car, turned the radio back up, and drove the rest of the way to Rachael’s in silence, like nothing had happened. When we arrived, Thomas unfastened his seatbelt, jumped out of the car and ran to his front door, ringing the bell repeatedly until Sean answered. Following behind with his coat, I shook Sean’s hand.
‘Hello, mate. Good week off?’
‘Yes thanks, Sean. Went far too quickly though.’
‘I hear that.’
Thomas ran down the hallway into the kitchen, shouting to the entire house. ‘Daddy is going to get married.’
‘Really?’ said Sean, trying to hide his surprise.
‘I haven’t asked her yet, just wanted to know how Thomas felt.’
‘Well, he seems fine with it. Congratulations in advance,’ he said, patting me on the shoulder. ‘Come in, mate. Rach would love to hear.’
I chuckled to myself. I hadn’t even picked up the ring I’d been eying up – a single stone in a clasp that allowed you to see the diamond from all angles.
‘Sure. As long as I’m not interrupting.’
‘Of course not.’
Stepping into the house I had to take off my coat; the central heating was on high as Rachael always liked. Sean shut the door and gestured for me to walk to the kitchen. As I stepped into the kitchen Rachael stood back from her long embrace with our boy and Thomas walked to the fridge, opened it and buried his head in there to search out something to eat. He emerged with a Frube yogurt, held it in the air to wait for the nod to say he could have it before running into the living room where Sean had gone, no doubt to give me and Rachael a moment. I ruffled Thomas’s hair as he passed me. Once we were alone, I leant on the counter and smiled at Rachael. She looked tired. I knew her well enough to know what that meant.
‘Tough time at work?’
She laughed and lowered her head. ‘Am I that easy to read?’
I didn’t say anything but waited. Rachael wasn’t one to be pushed into talking. If she wanted to say, she’d say. If not, I’d not ask. A few seconds was usually the timeframe for us to either move on or discuss it further.
‘Just a patient of mine. Terminal. He blamed me for him dying today.’
‘He’s just …’
‘I know, I know, he’s angry. He’s afraid. I know he didn’t mean it. But it’s still hard to hear.’
‘I bet.’
‘I’m sure he will be calmer tomorrow. He’ll probably apologize and then we can focus on making sure his transition is as dignified as possible.’
‘I don’t know how you do it.’
‘Sometimes I don’t know either. Speaking of which; how is Katie’s dad?’
‘No change really.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘I think she’s coming to terms with it now. I guess that’s all anyone can do right?’
‘Yes. Anyway, Thomas has just told me. I hear congratulations are in order?’
I couldn’t help but laugh and feel embarrassed. I hadn’t planned it enough in my head for it to be said out loud. I needed to know what Thomas felt before I let myself go that far. She read my mind. She often did.
‘He’s clearly happy about it.’
‘It seems so.’
‘So, when?’
‘I haven’t worked that out yet, soon. Are you all right with this?’
‘Of course. I’m really happy, Daniel. You deserve someone lovely.’
Rachael stepped towards me and gave me a hug, warm and safe. A hug that had changed in context, but never affection.
‘Thanks, Rach. Are you all good though?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, tomorrow is another day.’
‘It is indeed. Well, I’d better be off.’
‘I’ll see you out.’
Leaving the kitchen, Rachael followed. I leant into the living room where Thomas sat watching the start of Pixar’s Planes with Sean.
‘Bye, Sean.’
‘See you soon, Daniel. Congratulations again, you know, for when it happens.’
‘Thanks, mate. Bye, Thomas.’
‘Bye, Daddy,’ he said, unable to take his eyes off the screen.
‘Thomas, come and give your daddy a hug,’ said Rachael from the doorway.
‘Okay.’ He got up and wrapped himself in my arms. His hugs being the best part of any day.
‘I love you, little man.’
‘Love you too, Daddy.’
Putting on my coat I opened the door and turned back to Rachael, who crossed her arms as the cold air flooded in.
‘I mean it, Daniel. I’m really happy for you.’
‘Thanks, Rachael, it means a lot.’
‘She’s lovely. You two are really good together.’
‘Can I call later, to say goodnight to him?’
‘Of course you can. Are you two still coming on Sunday?’
‘Yep, we’re looking forward to it. Is there anything you want us to bring?’
‘A bottle of wine wouldn’t go amiss.’
‘That goes without saying.’
‘Then no, just you and Katie. Sean is doing dinner. God help us!’
‘I heard that!’ Sean shouted from the lounge, feigning hurt.
‘I’m in trouble now!’
‘Well, worst case, I’ll order us a takeaway.’
‘I heard that too, Dan! Have a little faith you two. I’m like Gordon Ramsay.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ I shouted into the lounge.
‘Do you and Katie want to come over for about eight? If he hasn’t burnt the house down, of course,’ she said in a conspiring whisper, but still loud enough for Sean to call back that we were both so charming.
‘Eight sounds perfect. And not a word to Katie about … you know.’
‘Of course. When are you going to pop the question?’
‘Some time in the new year.’
‘I’m really happy for you, Dan.’
‘Thanks. See you Sunday,’ I said before calling out, ‘Bye, Sean. Bye, Thomas.
‘See you, mate.’
‘Bye, Daddy.’
I kissed Rachael on the cheek and walked back to my car, shielding my eyes as the setting sun blinded me and gave everything a soft orange glow. As I drove away, Thomas waving at me from the window, I let myself picture the moment I got down on one knee, imagining the look on Katie’s face. I couldn’t wait. 2018 was going to be a good year for us, for all of us. I could feel it.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_7786a24d-0382-55b4-8276-7c2f2dfa3a26)
Daniel
Stamford
31
December 2017, 7.44 p.m.
I sat on my bed fully dressed, waiting for Katie, aimlessly scrolling through the posts on my Facebook newsfeed and trying my best not to think about the dream that had startled me awake early this morning.
It was the same as usual. I was in a car. But I don’t know what kind, or where I was. It was dark. Bright lights of a large van or lorry blinded me, and then I was rolling over and over and over until I stopped upside down. Blood dripped from my head, pooling onto the sunroof. Someone was shouting. I tried to move but couldn’t; I was trapped. Panic began to bubble up in my throat as I fought against the constraints of the seatbelt. No matter how hard I tried to get out, I couldn’t. Just as I thought any hope of me getting out was gone, just as I had believed that I would die in the car, a hand reached in and dragged me out. I couldn’t see the person. They didn’t have a face, it was just a blur.
They pulled me far enough away from the car that I would be safe, talking to me, but I can never remember what they said. The car goes up in flames and I can feel the heat on my face, it is singeing the hairs on my arms as I’m still that bit too close. The person looks at me and tells me to run.
That was what usually happened in the dream, give or take. Sometimes I climbed out of the wreck. Sometimes I was the one in the van or lorry smashing into the car. But I was always bleeding, and someone was always talking to me in sentences I couldn’t process, except for that one word – ‘run’. Their voice sounded like they were screaming underwater. Last night’s had something new though – something I hadn’t dreamt before – but it was just on the edge of whatever held on to dreams and stopped them coming forward with clarity. I could almost touch it. However, try as I might, I couldn’t quite touch it. I’d been wracking my brain all day to work out what the new thing was, frustrated with myself for not being able to see it.
I desperately wanted to talk to Will about it. To have his professional mind analyse what I had seen, but it was New Year’s Eve and I couldn’t call him, it would be selfish. So instead, I clutched my hand to my phone to stop it from shaking.
My Facebook timeline was full of comments about how hard or wonderful or heart-breaking the year had been, and how 2018 was a fresh start. As clichéd as that was, I felt it too. At some point early into 2018 I was going to ask my girlfriend, who was meticulously applying her eyeliner, to be my bride. We would then probably plan our wedding and honeymoon. Maybe even begin talking about children. A brother or sister for Thomas. Life can change in a heartbeat, so the prospect of an entire year and what change would come was almost too exciting to digest.
‘I’m nearly done,’ Katie called out as she moved on to applying mascara.
‘No rush, darling, we’ve still got time,’ I replied, despite it being close to eight. She smiled at me through the wardrobe mirror and continued applying. I watched her in the glass. I loved the way she pouted whilst she stroked the mascara brush delicately upwards. And how she needed to lean back from the mirror after to look at her handiwork because she refused to wear glasses despite being slightly long-sighted. She caught me looking and I saw her cheeks blush a little, a smile spreading on her face.
‘What?’
‘Nothing, darling. I just like looking at you.’
‘You’re hopeless.’
She was right, I was hopeless and I didn’t care. Getting up I took the necklace that she was struggling to clasp under her hair and clipped it together. A delicate silver chain with a pearl attached. A gift from her father. Once it was secured I stepped closer and held her shoulder, placing a kiss on the space between her neck and collarbone. She smiled, but I could see a sadness in her eyes as she looked at the pearl.
‘We can get up early tomorrow and go see him a day early if you want? I don’t have to drink tonight.’
‘No, it’s okay. Dad isn’t good in the mornings anymore.’
‘If you change your mind, I’m happy to stay on the soft drinks.’
‘Thank you, Dan, but it’s fine.’
‘Do you want to try and ring him?’
‘He’ll be asleep now. I’m sure he doesn’t really know what day it is today. If I call and he is by chance awake, it will remind him. I think I’d rather he wasn’t aware. Does that make sense?’
‘Yes, it does.’
I understood. If her father was aware that it was the start of a new year, he would also be aware it was likely, almost certain in fact, his last on this earth. His cancerous body in its last stages of fighting the disease, a fight he was always going to lose. And although he never said it out loud, with each visit – the ones where his medication was just enough to manage his pain but not so much that he was completely out of it – I could see that he wanted it to be over. So did Katie who, like her father, wouldn’t ever say. It killed me to see her quietly hurting as she fixated on the pearl. But there was nothing anyone could do. It was life, it begun, it ended and all we could do was make sure we had enough wonderful little bubbles floating with us when it was our time to pass.
Turning Katie around, I looked into her deep-brown eyes and watched as her pain lifted.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,’ she said before leaning in and kissing me softly. ‘How do I look?’
‘Perfect.’
She smiled and kissed me once more, this time less softly. A smacker landing hard on my lips before she turned to check her make-up one last time. ‘Shall we go?’
‘We could be a little late?’ I said, sliding my hands down her shoulders and onto her hips, pulling her closer.
‘And why would we be late when we are both ready?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know … But I can think of a reason,’ I replied with a cheeky wink.
‘Has that ever worked for you?’ she laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck.
‘I’m about to find out.’
I kissed her neck just under her left ear, the small patch of skin where I knew she loved to be kissed. With my lips placed there I listened as her breathing became heavier and she placed her hands on mine, moving them across her stomach, resting them just under her belly button. Turning her to face me, I kissed her lips, at first softy then, as she pressed herself into me, with more intent. Lifting up her dress I placed my hand back on her hip, my thumb sliding under the elastic of her underwear and, lowering myself, I slid them down her thighs before placing a kiss close to where I could feel heat. She pulled me back up and pushed me onto the bed, undoing and pulling down my jeans before climbing on top of me.
‘We are going to be so late, Dan.’
‘Not that late.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘In fact, probably only a few minutes.’
‘A few minutes, wow, you know how to spoil a girl.’ She laughed, smiling as she leant in and bit my lip. ‘You’d better not smudge my make-up.’
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Darren O’Sullivan
Close your eyes…and count to ten.‘I was gripped by this taut and emotional thriller.’ Louise Jensen, author of The Sister.‘A well crafted, nail biting thriller crammed with unpredictable twists. It wrong foots you with a killer twist that will have you re-reading because you can’t believe you didn’t see it coming.’ John Marrs, author of The One‘I thought it was absolutely brilliant – really fast-paced, and packed full of action.’ Lisa Hall, author of Between You and MeHe doesn’t know his name. He doesn’t know his secret.When Daniel woke up from a coma he had no recollection of the life he lived before. Now, fourteen years later, he’s being forced to remember.A phone call in the middle of the night demands he return what he stole – but Daniel has no idea what it could be, or who the person on the other end is. He has been given one warning, if he doesn’t find out his family will be murdered.Rachael needs to protect her son. Trapped with no way out she will do anything to ensure they survive. But sometimes mothers can’t save their children and her only hope is Daniel’s memory.Perfect for fans of Holly Seddon, Gillian Flynn and BA Paris.From the best-selling author of Our Little Secret comes a new psychological thriller with a shocking twist.Praise for Darren O’Sullivan:‘Immensely talented new author.’ John Marrs, author of The One and When You Disappeared‘Engrossing, compelling and twisty from the first page to the shocking ending. This book grabbed me and didn't let go.’ Michele Campbell author of It’s Always the Husband'Unique and utterly compelling. This twisty psychological thriller will chill you to the bones.' Gemma Metcalfe author of Trust Me‘A stellar and original concept, brilliantly executed. The final chapters had my heart in my throat! O’Sullivan is certainly one to watch.’ Phoebe Morgan, author of The Doll House
He doesn’t know his name. He doesn’t know his secret.
When Daniel woke up from a coma he had no recollection of the life he lived before. Now, fourteen years later, he’s being forced to remember.
A phone call in the middle of the night demands he return what he stole – but Daniel has no idea what it could be, or who the person on the other end is. He has been given one warning: if he doesn’t find out, his family will be murdered.
Rachael needs to protect her son. Trapped with no way out she will do anything to ensure they survive. But sometimes mothers can’t save their children and her only hope is Daniel’s memory.
Perfect for fans of Holly Seddon, Gillian Flynn and BA Paris.
Also by Darren O’Sullivan
Our Little Secret
Close Your Eyes…
Darren O’Sullivan
ONE PLACE. MANY STORIES
Copyright (#ulink_01065c56-dff6-5934-86f9-e15bd26ec8c2)
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018
Copyright © Darren O’Sullivan 2018
Darren O’Sullivan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © May 2018 ISBN: 9780008277864
Version: 2018-05-01
DARREN O’SULLIVAN was born in Slough in 1982 but moved to Peterborough when he was 17 to train in performing arts. He has been working creatively ever since, first as an actor for the stage, then director. Five years ago he felt inspired to write theatre and from that came the idea to develop a novel.
To Helen, because time is the most precious gift, and one you have given me.
Contents
Cover (#u18c7e9ee-c0b1-57c4-8c36-cb2f9077d17c)
Blurb (#u0fa4c908-5191-5859-a3e2-13ec753654d2)
Booklist (#ulink_0b2a4a1d-c9e7-59cb-afa4-0b4f8997edbf)
Title Page (#ueee1c105-bd85-5d26-83e4-75c023761632)
Copyright (#ulink_07deba24-515c-5ced-b6e2-df378e74aac9)
Author Bio (#u7e0d2950-d4f1-5f76-8320-f379560be6ea)
Dedication (#u5c355dcc-1d07-5887-a545-6b6135fee787)
Prologue (#ulink_9343787e-ca79-5dbb-9d35-f0fcd451af58)
Chapter One (#ulink_1e7a774b-348a-5a4b-b6c2-30e24c9ff6b7)
Chapter Two (#ulink_5bd8bbf6-3416-5cd5-b4f0-e45fd95ece37)
Chapter Three (#ulink_7a7c1e62-b68c-56c9-b07a-e2bd81f90094)
Chapter Four (#ulink_d9502380-f6e7-53e1-92ab-0b2c78467816)
Chapter Five (#ulink_59b44cb9-bae7-519d-a6be-d7bf238d655f)
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Sixty
Chapter Sixty-One
Chapter Sixty-Two
Chapter Sixty-Three
Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Five
Chapter Sixty-Six
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Excerpt (#u0fcd948d-4de3-54ab-bea9-58c78c9b6080)
Endpages (#u0d24fa7b-498c-5b81-92b6-09a8e0afb24a)
About the Publisher
Prologue (#ulink_61a93bb4-53d0-55d8-bd79-ce8d97cb06cd)
Daniel
Sheringham
5th January 2018
Breathe.
Just breathe.
That was all I had to do. And yet it was impossible. Lying on the ground, the cold seeping through to my back and chest, I stared up at the sky. Unblinking. A sheet of nothingness stretching in all directions. Flat and smooth and devoid of anything I could identify with, devoid of anything I could latch hope onto. Just grey. I looked anyway, for something, anything that meant there was more. My eyes stung, I needed to blink. But I didn’t dare. I knew if I did, my eyes might not open again. And grey was better than the black of what was surely to come.
Ironically, grey was the colour that made up my past, made up who I was, made up my memories. I had fought against it, now, it was all I had left. The only thing to hold on to. Grey was a friend all along.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
The pain was too much, the knowledge of what was coming next too constricting. I knew I would pass out soon. I could feel it creeping up my arms and legs. A stillness as my extremities conceded defeat. The blood flowing from my body was unstoppable, it came from too many places. My life was leaking out, a millilitre at a time, forming a pool in which I lay. It warmed the concrete around me, inviting me to relax, to accept. And it didn’t hurt, it didn’t matter.
I wasn’t scared of what was next, part of me knew it was inevitable. It didn’t even matter where I went once I died, all that mattered was that life would continue. The storm would end, spring would come. Summer would burn and then winter would return. It would do so for many, many years. There would be laughter and love. There would be success and change. There would be children growing to become adults who would have their own children one day. Then there would be peace as it came to an end, only to be replaced with another winter, another summer for ever and ever.
I was just a very small part of a much bigger picture.
I was just a single paint brush stroke on a canvas that was the entire world. A single small stroke of paint. One that was never very vibrant or colourful. More shading than subject.
Just before I closed my eyes for the final time there was a small gap in the grey, just enough for me to see beyond it. A small space of the brightest blue I had ever seen. Pure. Untouched by the past five days.
And that bit of blue, it told me everything would be okay, for the one person that it was all for.
And that was what mattered.
One week earlier
Chapter 1 (#ulink_6b1af4b6-81f7-5f44-a277-cfc865f8396a)
Daniel
Stamford
29
December 2017, 7.48 a.m.
A long time ago I was told that the moments that were truly important in life were the moments we carry forward and recall on our deathbeds. Things like the perfect sunset. The moment we fall in love. A passing of someone dear.
As I lay in my bed, I was doing exactly that, as coming from the room next door was the sound of Thomas and Katie, talking and playing together. Their voices were my two most favourite sounds. Katie said something I couldn’t quite make out, but whatever it was it made Thomas laugh and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I wanted to join them. But not yet, first I would use my senses as I had been taught.
It was a doctor who told me to let my subconscious take over when it mattered. A doctor who was one of the many I had fifteen years ago in the days, weeks and months after I woke up in a hospital bed. But he was the only one I would never forget. He was the one who first told me what had happened and helped me understand my life had re-begun. He helped me make sense of the facts. I was a broken body that didn’t know where it was. A broken body that didn’t know its name. A broken body whose even more broken mind couldn’t comprehend that it once had a past that it may never see again. Its memories, my memories, like all memories, tiny bubbles that contained joy and happiness, sadness, fear. Only mine had all been popped.
Our conversation, the one that helped to save me from the pit of despair I was in, came on a grey February morning. I was sitting staring out of the window nearest my bed, trying to find a reason to carry on and he, doing his morning rounds, approached. Noticing I was lost in thought he asked me what I saw. I told him I saw drizzle, darkness before looking away from the window, back to nothing in particular.
‘What about the trees?’
‘What about them?’
‘What do you see when you look at them?’
Sighing, I looked outside again, to humour the doctor. Thinking if I did he would go away and leave me alone.
‘They look dead,’ I said, holding his eye. I almost followed it up with a comment about how they were lucky, but stopped myself. The doctor sat on the end of my bed and looked outside. I watched him, wondering what he was doing. Doctors usually rushed in and out. I didn’t blame them retrospectively, I was intolerable to be around. I waited for him to say something, but for a long time he just sat, looking out of the window, a small smile on his face. The silence was too much.
‘What do you see?’ I questioned.
‘The same as you at first glance.’
‘So then why ask?’
‘Because I wanted to see how hard you looked.’
‘Doc, you aren’t making sense. If you don’t mind, I want to be left alone.’
He looked at me, the smile unmoving and nodded.
‘Before I do, Daniel, humour me once more and look again at the trees, but this time, look closer. Focus on the tree tops. Look at the way they are moving in the wind. Look at the very tips of those branches. What can you see?’
Reluctantly I did what he said and looked again, having to hide my astonishment when I focused on where he told me to. The trees may have looked dead at first glance, but as I focused I saw their tips starting to show the signs of sprouting buds that would become leaves eventually, they would attract birds who would nest and raise families. As he spoke I could almost smell the sweet scent a sapling gives off in spring. But I didn’t remember any springs, or summers, or autumns. Only winter, the one I watched from my window. I learnt that the small act of stopping to let my senses work properly helped me see something wonderful that was always there, and the morning wasn’t quite so dreary anymore. As he left my hospital room he told me if we embrace the stillness from time to time, we capture the moment entirely. His final words to me were that letting myself see the small things that really mattered wouldn’t help me remember my past, but it might just help me have a future. That day, I knew I could learn to hold on to the precious moments that were to come in my life. Things I would experience going forwards, and they could be wonderful if I let them, despite not knowing anything about the past. Shortly after that moment with the smiling doctor I was told I would be going home soon. I never saw that doctor again.
I have had several moments in the fifteen short years that I can remember where I have done exactly that. I stopped, I became still, and in doing so I made sure those moments were branded permanently in my mind so that no matter what may happen I would never forget them. Moments likes the two occasions I have fallen in love. The first time to Rachael, traditional, sweet, and almost as far back as I can remember. Two people who were nervous and excited. Full of possibilities. That first kiss suspending me above myself. I didn’t know then, but that first kiss would eventually lead to another wonderful moment when Rachael told me I was going to be a dad. A box presented to me, inside being a positive pregnancy test, a card and baby grow. Tears that fell and warmed my cheeks. Her smile, unfiltered.
The biggest moment of all is reserved for the day my son was born, six years ago. Although it feels like six minutes. His tiny body helpless and defenceless. His beautiful little head that fitted perfectly in my palm as I carried him towards his mummy who lay on the operating table post-caesarean. His cry, his voice. As I carefully moved towards her, his eye found mine and changed everything I assumed I knew about myself.
But there is also the second time I fell in love, more recently, to my Katie. Our meeting and dating coming from a place that was wiser, but no less powerful.
I may have had more of these moments in the years before 2003. But I would never know. Mum prefers never to speak of the time before the accident; it’s not important she tells me. I know that they’re memories that she doesn’t want to relive and I’m not interested in finding out about them, not when I have no way of remembering. She’s more focused on the man I am now – on rebuilding my life after what happened. She has spoken of my kindness though, my ability to love others and to jump into situations too quickly. Sometimes I will catch her staring into space and I just know she’s recalling another time, another me.
In some ways, me losing my past is harder for her, she has to mourn for the man I once was without mourning at all, and I knew, despite how much I wanted to know about the me before, that if I asked her outright, she might break her silence, spilling the bottled-up emotions she held on to for my benefit. Something I couldn’t do to her; she has been through enough. So I left it alone and focused on the now and the future. Which was Thomas and Katie.
From his bedroom I heard Thomas tell Katie what Santa had left him at Mummy’s house before asking her to build a tower from the Lego my mum had bought him. His voice was followed by the crashing sound of hundreds of plastic blocks being poured onto his bedroom floor. It wasn’t the words spoken or the sounds of Katie and Thomas building that would form into a lasting memory, but the context.
The woman I loved and the boy who means more than anything else in the world to me had formed a relationship that didn’t need me to mediate. I wasn’t required for them to be able to play and talk. I wasn’t needed for them to be able to know and care for one another. And, with what I had planned for after New Year, Katie and Thomas caring for one another in such a way was essential.
Katie still thought I was asleep. I knew because she was speaking in her quiet whispery tones despite Thomas not lowering his voice at all. Truth was, I’d not really been asleep since just after 4 a.m. A dream, my dream, waking me early. The same one I had been having for over a year. The one of the accident that took away my memories and the life before.
Slipping out of bed I tiptoed towards Thomas’s room. As I stepped in, I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the sight of them sat next to each other, him leaning into her as they built some sort of tower that stood about eighteen inches tall. Katie saw me first as Thomas was concentrating on his building task, and she smiled, looking from me to Thomas before resting her chin on his head. Her eyes told me everything. She was happy that he let her be close, she was content. After just over a year, he was treating her like part of his family. She mouthed a good morning to me, and I mouthed it back before turning my attention to my fixated boy.
‘Morning, Thomas.’
He looked up at me, a smile spreading across his face.
‘Daddy, look at the robot Katie and me made.’
‘Wow, did you two really make this?’
‘Yep’
‘All by yourselves?’
‘Yep.’
‘That’s amazing. You are both very clever.’
‘Well, Thomas did most of the building, I just helped where I could,’ Katie said, focusing on Thomas as she spoke.
‘Well then, I’m even more impressed. Bit of a clever one, aren’t you?’
‘Am I?’
‘Yes, look at your robot. I doubt there is anything you can’t do. Are you two hungry? Shall I make some breakfast?’
‘Not yet, Daddy.’
‘Okay, no rush.’
‘What time are you meeting Will today?’ Katie asked, her smile shrinking, morphing into a tight one that she always held firmly in place when she was trying not to be worried about how I would feel after seeing my therapist.
‘Not till 2.30, so we can take our time this morning.’
‘Do you want me to come?’
‘No it’s okay. I’ll drop Thomas back at his mum’s earlier than usual this week.’
‘Daddy, can I stay up here and play a little longer? I want to build a racing car.’
‘Of course you can. Do you want me to help?’
‘No. I want Katie to.’
‘You want Katie to?’ I said looking once again to my girlfriend, not even trying to supress my smile.
‘Right, I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be downstairs, come down whenever you’re ready.’
Once downstairs I flicked on the kettle before sitting at my kitchen table. I quietly drank my coffee and looked into my garden as the lazy sun forced its way over the horizon and listened to them talk above my head. Thomas laughed, his infectious giggle making Katie laugh as well.
Not knowing my past is a huge part of my present, and the questions that remain unanswered about me will be ones I will carry forever. But, listening to my son and my love playing in a bedroom above me, I let myself believe that the questions I had, scars I carried, wouldn’t be the future of me.
The future was now. The future was upstairs and everything about it was definitely real.
Chapter 2 (#ulink_3d5a0e85-0bf0-521b-9caf-712cb6a21a3b)
Daniel
Stamford
29
December 2017, 3.18 p.m.
It turned out I didn’t need to take Thomas back to his mother’s early after all, as Katie suggested that they went to the park to play whilst I met up with Will. Then we could take Thomas back to his mum’s together. Before I could say anything, Tom was putting his shoes on to leave.
‘Are you sure, Katie?’
‘Of course. We’ve not spent this much time together before.’
‘Honestly, it doesn’t matter if we take him back.’
‘Dan, honestly. It will be fine. I love your little boy. I want to spend some time alone with him.’
‘Katie, come on, let’s go!’ Thomas said, pulling on her jumper and away from me.
‘Right, you need to wear a hat and gloves, it’s freezing out there today,’ she said playfully whilst trying to wrestle his coat on. I asked if she needed a hand, but she told me she was fine.
I had known Katie for two years. She had known Thomas for just over one, and after kissing them both I watched them walk out of the house without me for the first time. It felt good, and weird all at once.
With the house quiet, I got myself ready and drove to Will’s for our session. The hour we spent together mostly followed the same routine as usual, we talked about how I’m feeling, I told him about how I remembered the taste of blood in my mouth, and the pain of a broken bone.
‘Have you told anyone about this?’ he asked.
‘Yes, my mother.’
‘But not Katie?’
‘No, not Katie.’
‘What did your mum say?’
‘She laughed and told me I had been watching too many action movies.’
He agreed; it was my imagination faking memories. I knew the term for it, confabulation. It was common for people with my condition.
As I left we scheduled our next meeting to be just after the Easter weekend. But he told me if anything new happened that I wanted to talk through, he was always on the end of the phone.
In the car on the way back I let myself reflect on my chance encounter with Katie; I often did so after seeing Will. I guess it was because with Will we spoke of a past I didn’t know, but thinking about how Katie and I met, that was from a past I did and our memories, our past, helped me supress the knot in my stomach that sometimes swelled.
Pulling up on the side of the road by the park, I could see the two people I love the most in the distance. He was climbing the ladder to the top of the slide and Katie stood close by, her face glowing in the cold weather. As I walked towards them I took it all in. The crisp winter air, the sound of the breeze creaking through the limbs of the exposed trees. Thomas’s laugh over it. Her laugh. Bright and unreserved.
Thomas saw me approaching and waved. I was expecting him to run over for a cuddle, but he was so wrapped up in playing that he carried on running from the slide to the swings, dragging Katie with him. He climbed into the bucket seat and asked Katie to push him. It warmed me despite it being so cold that the frost had not melted from the night before. I watched them, not wanting to interrupt for a few minutes, and then glanced down at my watch and sighed. It was nearly time to go. It would be getting dark soon. But I didn’t want to move, I wanted to stay in this moment forever. The cold air, the warm laughs.
Thomas shouted for Katie to push him harder, although she was clearly pushing with all of her strength. He was swinging so high it made my stomach turn. Each time he swung into the air I was sure he would shoot off the seat and fly ten feet into the air before hitting the frozen floor. I felt my muscles in my legs ready to spring, my arms ready to catch. He was screaming and for a moment I saw a flash of something from before. It was dark, almost pitch black, a woman’s scream echoed, her shrill bouncing off a low ceiling, and I was running, hard, and crashed through a door.
As quick as it landed it was gone. It took me a moment to realize he was screaming in glee and she was smiling and making rocket noises behind him. He was fine. They both were. Katie looked at me, a quizzical expression on her face. She had seen my reaction. I smiled weakly at her, trying to assure her that everything was fine. No doubt another moment of confabulation; I had seen something similar on the BBC perhaps, and mistaken it for a memory.
I turned my attention back to Thomas, shaking the last of the adrenaline that shot into my chest. I looked at his hands wrapped around the freezing chains, and his feet dragging across the ground each time he passed. It amazed me how big he was getting. Time moving at a pace that I couldn’t keep up with changing him from a defenceless baby, to a gabbling toddler, to a little boy with his own mind and ideas and plans for who he wanted to be. Thomas shouted he was going to be sick and the swing slowed down, being grabbed from behind by Katie to help the process.
I watched as he jumped off, and grabbing her hand he dragged her to the roundabout to push him on it. She smiled over at me and I smiled back. She was good with him and looked so happy. I wanted to get up and join in, but it was important for them to have their time alone.
There was no doubt that Katie and I had a future together. I had known it for just about as long as I had known her, despite not wanting to admit it at the time. She was kind and thoughtful, and her laugh lit a fire. When she learnt about my condition she didn’t judge, she didn’t ask questions. She accepted it, and me. She offered patience when I occasionally forgot a word, and she would soothe me when I woke from a bad dream as the crash haunted me. Because of her I had pieced together some small moments from the boy I once was. We discovered that when I was drifting to sleep she could ask me questions and occasionally things would lift from my subconscious. She wrote them down and sometimes I would recall what it meant. If only for a moment. When I had my lightning bolts of recollection of past moments, she waited until I was ready to say what I had seen. Her patience and understanding were more than I felt I deserved at times.
As Thomas continued to scream for Katie to spin him faster and faster I let myself picture a future with us three in it, just for a second until it was broken by Thomas running over to me, dizzy and smiling from ear to ear.
‘Daddy, did you see how fast I was spinning?’
‘I did,’ I replied smiling back.
‘Come and spin with me.’
‘Thomas, darling, it’s time to start heading back.’
‘Do we have to, Daddy?’
‘I’m afraid so. But don’t worry, next weekend will come quickly, and we will have the whole weekend together to play games and go out for yummy food. How does that sound?’
‘Can we go ice-skating?’
‘We can even do that.’
‘Will Katie be there too?’
‘Would you like her to be?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Yeah?’ I said grabbing my boy and hugging him tightly. ‘Well, let’s see what Daddy can do.’
I took his little hand and the three of us started to walk towards the cars, Thomas pausing to grab hold of Katie’s as well so we could swing him between us. With the sun setting behind us, our shadows were stretching out over the frosty ground. The three of us, hand in hand walking together.
Back at our cars I gave Katie a kiss and told her I wouldn’t be long. She and Rachael knew each other and got along well. We often met up with her and her new husband, Sean, for dinner. She liked him too, as did I. As hard as it was to accept that Rachael had moved on, at least it was with a decent man who Thomas really liked. After they had first met, Sean called me to talk about how he wasn’t trying to replace me in Thomas’s life. Like he had replaced me in Rachael’s.
Thomas was nearly four when we, actually she, decided it was best for us to separate, for the sake of our son. It had broken my heart. More because I wouldn’t be with Thomas night after night. But we both knew it would be the best thing for him in the long term. No courts would be involved. I could talk with Thomas whenever I wanted and big events, like birthdays and Christmases we still came together, even when she had married Sean. We did it for Thomas at first, to make sure he didn’t feel like he wasn’t loved because of love breaking down in other places. But now, we did it because, despite everything, we were friends. That’s why the five of us would all be seeing in the new year together, as a giant family.
Although Rachael and Katie got along, Katie didn’t come with me to drop Thomas off. She said it was time for his mother and father to catch up, to make plans for the coming week and ensure things ran as smoothly as possible for him. The little things, like this, made it easy to love her.
As I unlocked the car, Thomas let go and ran back to Katie to give her a hug. His little arms wrapping around her waist. Katie kissed the top of his head and then smiled at me, the kind of smile that made me want to burst. He said goodbye and ran back over, climbing into his car seat. Katie mouthed that she loved me, and I mouthed it back. She blew me a kiss, got into her car and drove away. I watched her disappear down the road.
Chapter 3 (#ulink_d027050d-28c8-5e06-9981-10a9c97fe01a)
Daniel
Stamford
29
December 2017, 3.41 p.m.
‘All strapped in tightly.’
‘Yes, Daddy.’
‘Great, shall we take you home, little man?’
Getting into the driver’s seat I looked at Thomas through the rear-view mirror, watching him smile at the other children who were now playing on the swings he had been. Content, I began the ten-minute drive back to Rachael’s house, the sound of the radio playing quietly above the hum of the car. I wanted to talk about Katie, it took me a few minutes to work out how. If I appeared too nonchalant he might think his view, or my feelings, didn’t matter, and they did, very much. If I went in too gung-ho it might freak him out. I took a deep breath.
‘Thomas?’
I waited for a response, one that was not forthcoming, as Thomas was so wrapped up in people-watching through the car window. So, I turned down the radio, which lifted him from his trance.
‘Thomas, I want to talk to you about Katie.’
‘What about her?’
‘Did you enjoy spending time alone with her today?’
‘Yes, she’s great.’
‘What else do you think about her?’
‘What do you mean, Daddy?’
Pausing for a moment I thought about the best way to answer.
‘I mean, well …’
‘What do you think about her, Daddy?’
Thomas’s question caught me off guard and knowing I needed to be honest I pulled over into a layby, put on the handbrake and turned to be eye to eye with my son.
‘I care about her a lot.’
‘You mean you love her?’
‘How would you feel if I did?’
‘Well, Mummy loves Sean.’
‘She does love Sean, very much.’
‘Then you should love Katie.’
‘Should I?’
‘Yes, Daddy. I don’t like thinking of you on your own when Mummy has Sean’
‘Thomas, you don’t ever have to worry about me, okay? I’m fine.’
I looked into his big green eyes. I could feel him really caring. He was such a bright, bright boy.
‘I’m more than fine,’ I said. ‘Are you really okay with the idea of Katie and me?’
‘Of course, Daddy. Can we go home now? I’m getting hungry’.’
I laughed. ‘Before we do, can I ask you a really big question, one I want you to answer as honestly as you can. And don’t worry about what I might feel, this question is about how you feel …’
‘Daddy, if you love her, you should marry her.’
I smiled at my wonderful, intelligent boy, who in that moment looked at me with a wisdom beyond his years. I could feel myself welling up with pride.
‘You’re a brilliant boy, you know that, right?’
‘Uh-huh, can we go now?’
‘Of course, darling. Let’s get you home.’
Turning to face the road again I started the car, turned the radio back up, and drove the rest of the way to Rachael’s in silence, like nothing had happened. When we arrived, Thomas unfastened his seatbelt, jumped out of the car and ran to his front door, ringing the bell repeatedly until Sean answered. Following behind with his coat, I shook Sean’s hand.
‘Hello, mate. Good week off?’
‘Yes thanks, Sean. Went far too quickly though.’
‘I hear that.’
Thomas ran down the hallway into the kitchen, shouting to the entire house. ‘Daddy is going to get married.’
‘Really?’ said Sean, trying to hide his surprise.
‘I haven’t asked her yet, just wanted to know how Thomas felt.’
‘Well, he seems fine with it. Congratulations in advance,’ he said, patting me on the shoulder. ‘Come in, mate. Rach would love to hear.’
I chuckled to myself. I hadn’t even picked up the ring I’d been eying up – a single stone in a clasp that allowed you to see the diamond from all angles.
‘Sure. As long as I’m not interrupting.’
‘Of course not.’
Stepping into the house I had to take off my coat; the central heating was on high as Rachael always liked. Sean shut the door and gestured for me to walk to the kitchen. As I stepped into the kitchen Rachael stood back from her long embrace with our boy and Thomas walked to the fridge, opened it and buried his head in there to search out something to eat. He emerged with a Frube yogurt, held it in the air to wait for the nod to say he could have it before running into the living room where Sean had gone, no doubt to give me and Rachael a moment. I ruffled Thomas’s hair as he passed me. Once we were alone, I leant on the counter and smiled at Rachael. She looked tired. I knew her well enough to know what that meant.
‘Tough time at work?’
She laughed and lowered her head. ‘Am I that easy to read?’
I didn’t say anything but waited. Rachael wasn’t one to be pushed into talking. If she wanted to say, she’d say. If not, I’d not ask. A few seconds was usually the timeframe for us to either move on or discuss it further.
‘Just a patient of mine. Terminal. He blamed me for him dying today.’
‘He’s just …’
‘I know, I know, he’s angry. He’s afraid. I know he didn’t mean it. But it’s still hard to hear.’
‘I bet.’
‘I’m sure he will be calmer tomorrow. He’ll probably apologize and then we can focus on making sure his transition is as dignified as possible.’
‘I don’t know how you do it.’
‘Sometimes I don’t know either. Speaking of which; how is Katie’s dad?’
‘No change really.’
‘Is she okay?’
‘I think she’s coming to terms with it now. I guess that’s all anyone can do right?’
‘Yes. Anyway, Thomas has just told me. I hear congratulations are in order?’
I couldn’t help but laugh and feel embarrassed. I hadn’t planned it enough in my head for it to be said out loud. I needed to know what Thomas felt before I let myself go that far. She read my mind. She often did.
‘He’s clearly happy about it.’
‘It seems so.’
‘So, when?’
‘I haven’t worked that out yet, soon. Are you all right with this?’
‘Of course. I’m really happy, Daniel. You deserve someone lovely.’
Rachael stepped towards me and gave me a hug, warm and safe. A hug that had changed in context, but never affection.
‘Thanks, Rach. Are you all good though?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, tomorrow is another day.’
‘It is indeed. Well, I’d better be off.’
‘I’ll see you out.’
Leaving the kitchen, Rachael followed. I leant into the living room where Thomas sat watching the start of Pixar’s Planes with Sean.
‘Bye, Sean.’
‘See you soon, Daniel. Congratulations again, you know, for when it happens.’
‘Thanks, mate. Bye, Thomas.’
‘Bye, Daddy,’ he said, unable to take his eyes off the screen.
‘Thomas, come and give your daddy a hug,’ said Rachael from the doorway.
‘Okay.’ He got up and wrapped himself in my arms. His hugs being the best part of any day.
‘I love you, little man.’
‘Love you too, Daddy.’
Putting on my coat I opened the door and turned back to Rachael, who crossed her arms as the cold air flooded in.
‘I mean it, Daniel. I’m really happy for you.’
‘Thanks, Rachael, it means a lot.’
‘She’s lovely. You two are really good together.’
‘Can I call later, to say goodnight to him?’
‘Of course you can. Are you two still coming on Sunday?’
‘Yep, we’re looking forward to it. Is there anything you want us to bring?’
‘A bottle of wine wouldn’t go amiss.’
‘That goes without saying.’
‘Then no, just you and Katie. Sean is doing dinner. God help us!’
‘I heard that!’ Sean shouted from the lounge, feigning hurt.
‘I’m in trouble now!’
‘Well, worst case, I’ll order us a takeaway.’
‘I heard that too, Dan! Have a little faith you two. I’m like Gordon Ramsay.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ I shouted into the lounge.
‘Do you and Katie want to come over for about eight? If he hasn’t burnt the house down, of course,’ she said in a conspiring whisper, but still loud enough for Sean to call back that we were both so charming.
‘Eight sounds perfect. And not a word to Katie about … you know.’
‘Of course. When are you going to pop the question?’
‘Some time in the new year.’
‘I’m really happy for you, Dan.’
‘Thanks. See you Sunday,’ I said before calling out, ‘Bye, Sean. Bye, Thomas.
‘See you, mate.’
‘Bye, Daddy.’
I kissed Rachael on the cheek and walked back to my car, shielding my eyes as the setting sun blinded me and gave everything a soft orange glow. As I drove away, Thomas waving at me from the window, I let myself picture the moment I got down on one knee, imagining the look on Katie’s face. I couldn’t wait. 2018 was going to be a good year for us, for all of us. I could feel it.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_7786a24d-0382-55b4-8276-7c2f2dfa3a26)
Daniel
Stamford
31
December 2017, 7.44 p.m.
I sat on my bed fully dressed, waiting for Katie, aimlessly scrolling through the posts on my Facebook newsfeed and trying my best not to think about the dream that had startled me awake early this morning.
It was the same as usual. I was in a car. But I don’t know what kind, or where I was. It was dark. Bright lights of a large van or lorry blinded me, and then I was rolling over and over and over until I stopped upside down. Blood dripped from my head, pooling onto the sunroof. Someone was shouting. I tried to move but couldn’t; I was trapped. Panic began to bubble up in my throat as I fought against the constraints of the seatbelt. No matter how hard I tried to get out, I couldn’t. Just as I thought any hope of me getting out was gone, just as I had believed that I would die in the car, a hand reached in and dragged me out. I couldn’t see the person. They didn’t have a face, it was just a blur.
They pulled me far enough away from the car that I would be safe, talking to me, but I can never remember what they said. The car goes up in flames and I can feel the heat on my face, it is singeing the hairs on my arms as I’m still that bit too close. The person looks at me and tells me to run.
That was what usually happened in the dream, give or take. Sometimes I climbed out of the wreck. Sometimes I was the one in the van or lorry smashing into the car. But I was always bleeding, and someone was always talking to me in sentences I couldn’t process, except for that one word – ‘run’. Their voice sounded like they were screaming underwater. Last night’s had something new though – something I hadn’t dreamt before – but it was just on the edge of whatever held on to dreams and stopped them coming forward with clarity. I could almost touch it. However, try as I might, I couldn’t quite touch it. I’d been wracking my brain all day to work out what the new thing was, frustrated with myself for not being able to see it.
I desperately wanted to talk to Will about it. To have his professional mind analyse what I had seen, but it was New Year’s Eve and I couldn’t call him, it would be selfish. So instead, I clutched my hand to my phone to stop it from shaking.
My Facebook timeline was full of comments about how hard or wonderful or heart-breaking the year had been, and how 2018 was a fresh start. As clichéd as that was, I felt it too. At some point early into 2018 I was going to ask my girlfriend, who was meticulously applying her eyeliner, to be my bride. We would then probably plan our wedding and honeymoon. Maybe even begin talking about children. A brother or sister for Thomas. Life can change in a heartbeat, so the prospect of an entire year and what change would come was almost too exciting to digest.
‘I’m nearly done,’ Katie called out as she moved on to applying mascara.
‘No rush, darling, we’ve still got time,’ I replied, despite it being close to eight. She smiled at me through the wardrobe mirror and continued applying. I watched her in the glass. I loved the way she pouted whilst she stroked the mascara brush delicately upwards. And how she needed to lean back from the mirror after to look at her handiwork because she refused to wear glasses despite being slightly long-sighted. She caught me looking and I saw her cheeks blush a little, a smile spreading on her face.
‘What?’
‘Nothing, darling. I just like looking at you.’
‘You’re hopeless.’
She was right, I was hopeless and I didn’t care. Getting up I took the necklace that she was struggling to clasp under her hair and clipped it together. A delicate silver chain with a pearl attached. A gift from her father. Once it was secured I stepped closer and held her shoulder, placing a kiss on the space between her neck and collarbone. She smiled, but I could see a sadness in her eyes as she looked at the pearl.
‘We can get up early tomorrow and go see him a day early if you want? I don’t have to drink tonight.’
‘No, it’s okay. Dad isn’t good in the mornings anymore.’
‘If you change your mind, I’m happy to stay on the soft drinks.’
‘Thank you, Dan, but it’s fine.’
‘Do you want to try and ring him?’
‘He’ll be asleep now. I’m sure he doesn’t really know what day it is today. If I call and he is by chance awake, it will remind him. I think I’d rather he wasn’t aware. Does that make sense?’
‘Yes, it does.’
I understood. If her father was aware that it was the start of a new year, he would also be aware it was likely, almost certain in fact, his last on this earth. His cancerous body in its last stages of fighting the disease, a fight he was always going to lose. And although he never said it out loud, with each visit – the ones where his medication was just enough to manage his pain but not so much that he was completely out of it – I could see that he wanted it to be over. So did Katie who, like her father, wouldn’t ever say. It killed me to see her quietly hurting as she fixated on the pearl. But there was nothing anyone could do. It was life, it begun, it ended and all we could do was make sure we had enough wonderful little bubbles floating with us when it was our time to pass.
Turning Katie around, I looked into her deep-brown eyes and watched as her pain lifted.
‘Are you all right?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,’ she said before leaning in and kissing me softly. ‘How do I look?’
‘Perfect.’
She smiled and kissed me once more, this time less softly. A smacker landing hard on my lips before she turned to check her make-up one last time. ‘Shall we go?’
‘We could be a little late?’ I said, sliding my hands down her shoulders and onto her hips, pulling her closer.
‘And why would we be late when we are both ready?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know … But I can think of a reason,’ I replied with a cheeky wink.
‘Has that ever worked for you?’ she laughed, wrapping her arms around my neck.
‘I’m about to find out.’
I kissed her neck just under her left ear, the small patch of skin where I knew she loved to be kissed. With my lips placed there I listened as her breathing became heavier and she placed her hands on mine, moving them across her stomach, resting them just under her belly button. Turning her to face me, I kissed her lips, at first softy then, as she pressed herself into me, with more intent. Lifting up her dress I placed my hand back on her hip, my thumb sliding under the elastic of her underwear and, lowering myself, I slid them down her thighs before placing a kiss close to where I could feel heat. She pulled me back up and pushed me onto the bed, undoing and pulling down my jeans before climbing on top of me.
‘We are going to be so late, Dan.’
‘Not that late.’
‘Oh, I see.’
‘In fact, probably only a few minutes.’
‘A few minutes, wow, you know how to spoil a girl.’ She laughed, smiling as she leant in and bit my lip. ‘You’d better not smudge my make-up.’
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Darren O’Sullivan
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 25.04.2024
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О книге: Close your eyes…and count to ten.‘I was gripped by this taut and emotional thriller.’ Louise Jensen, author of The Sister.‘A well crafted, nail biting thriller crammed with unpredictable twists. It wrong foots you with a killer twist that will have you re-reading because you can’t believe you didn’t see it coming.’ John Marrs, author of The One‘I thought it was absolutely brilliant – really fast-paced, and packed full of action.’ Lisa Hall, author of Between You and MeHe doesn’t know his name. He doesn’t know his secret.When Daniel woke up from a coma he had no recollection of the life he lived before. Now, fourteen years later, he’s being forced to remember.A phone call in the middle of the night demands he return what he stole – but Daniel has no idea what it could be, or who the person on the other end is. He has been given one warning, if he doesn’t find out his family will be murdered.Rachael needs to protect her son. Trapped with no way out she will do anything to ensure they survive. But sometimes mothers can’t save their children and her only hope is Daniel’s memory.Perfect for fans of Holly Seddon, Gillian Flynn and BA Paris.From the best-selling author of Our Little Secret comes a new psychological thriller with a shocking twist.Praise for Darren O’Sullivan:‘Immensely talented new author.’ John Marrs, author of The One and When You Disappeared‘Engrossing, compelling and twisty from the first page to the shocking ending. This book grabbed me and didn′t let go.’ Michele Campbell author of It’s Always the Husband′Unique and utterly compelling. This twisty psychological thriller will chill you to the bones.′ Gemma Metcalfe author of Trust Me‘A stellar and original concept, brilliantly executed. The final chapters had my heart in my throat! O’Sullivan is certainly one to watch.’ Phoebe Morgan, author of The Doll House