Before Dawn: A Free Falling Novella Page 3

  “So you just let him fuck you?”

  “I owe you an explanation because?” I give him a defiant look, trying to breathe past the knot lodged in my throat. “Just say what you want and leave.”

  “You didn’t come to the meeting this morning.”

  “Don’t know about any meeting. Last time I checked, my shift started in the afternoon.”

  “Why didn’t you pick up the goddamned phone?”

  “What’s wrong with you?” I jump out of bed, fully irritated. “We’re done. Finis. Over. Why don’t you just let me be? I’m so sick and tired of your stupid games, your useless attempts to–”

  “Tell your lover boy he has to go. I’m getting you on the next flight to London. It’s your grandfather. Your parents are already on their way.”

  Chapter Four ~ Brian

  Leaning against the handrail, I glance at the reflected image in the mirror. Open shirt and loosened tie. Suit jacket hung over the shoulder, crystal trophy in hand, and an overall grand-bloody-mess impression I refuse to look at any longer. Instead, I tip my head back against the wall and close my eyes, taking a steadying breath, listening to the soft hum of the lift as it ascends to the third floor.

  When I finally enter my apartment, I toss my jacket onto the console table and throw myself on the sofa, robotically, the bloody headache pounding inside my skull making it almost impossible to think. Better so.

  “Hello, Brian.” A soft voice cuts through the haze in my mind.

  “You? What are you doing here?”

  It’s my sister, sitting on the swivel couch, holding a steaming cup in her hands.

  “Please, grab a seat. Make yourself at home.” I gesture toward her, irony dripping.

  “How are you?”

  “Aside from a raging headache? Fine, thank you.”

  “So, how was last night?” She keeps her voice even, her expression calm. It’s all fake, she’s about to combust.

  “Pretty uneventful, I’d say. How was yours?”

  She scowls at me defiantly. “You’re such a dick sometimes.”

  “You’re mad.”

  “Very perceptive of you.” Her sharp, green stare pierces right through me. “What happened? It’s well past midday already. Where have you been?”

  I sit upright immediately and check the time myself. “Shit, my flight to New York!” I mutter, the fact I only have a few hours to gather my stuff, say goodbye to the kids and get to Heathrow dawning hard on me.

  “Do you know why I am here?”

  “To make sure I get my arse on that plane and don’t mess things up?” I hunch forward and take a minute to hold my head between my hands, the throb against my temples only getting worse.

  Sue sweeps her long hair back over her shoulder and tilts her chin upwards, narrowing her inquisitive eyes at me.

  “What? That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?” I ask.

  “No.”

  “Oh. In that case, my second guess is... you came to tell me personally how much of an idiot I am?”

  “I think you need this.” She hands me her cup of coffee and I take a grateful sip, hoping the caffeine quickly enters my system. I’m in such sore need.

  “Do you know what day is today?”

  I give a half shrug. No bloody idea.

  Sue allows me the time to think more about it, her angry silent scream making my stomach knot as the quiet settles in deeper.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe out after a while. For not knowing what day this is—a miserable one, that is for sure. For not showing up for dinner and leaving her all by herself last night. For ignoring her calls. For disappearing right after the ceremony. Actually, for shutting myself away from everything and everyone lately.

  “You can’t just say you’re sorry, Brian!” She finally bursts. “You have to pick yourself up and stop letting people down! For crying out loud, look at yourself! I bet you spent the night with the first trashy whore who swayed her ass in front of you!”

  Not exactly, but I lower my gaze. I sure as hell will not discuss any of that with my sister. Or anyone else, for that matter. That’s no one’s bloody business.

  “How does it feel, huh? To wake up after a night of rebound sex only to find yourself as empty inside as you were before? Don’t you want to feel something more meaningful in your life? Don’t you crave something that inspires more than an orgasm?” Sue gives me another of her long scrutinising looks.

  “What are you? Some kind of an expert now? Planning to apply for some agony aunt position soon?” I can’t contain the snort, a bitter snort to disguise the restlessness inside.

  “Don’t get me started, you cocky little shit! I speak fluent sarcasm too! Listen to me. Everyone falls on their asses from time to time, but then they pump up their legs and move on. And that’s what you’ll do too, you hear me? Because I don’t like this new version of you. A cold and arrogant prick. One that doesn’t give a shit about anyone! One that keeps forgetting he has a family who needs him.”

  “I really don’t have time for your soul-searching rubbish. You should go now,” I say curtly as I stand up from the sofa. Her words sting more than I care to admit, though. I know she’s right.

  Sue puts a restraining hand on my arm. “Damn you, Brian! Don’t bottle it up inside! Talk it out. Or join a gym and punch some shit. Shave your head and join a sect! Whatever. But, please, find a way to keep it together!”

  I shake off her hand. “Please leave. I need to shower and get ready.”

  “No, you need an attitude adjustment!”

  “I guess you know where the door is...” I gesture to the entrance hall.

  “You didn’t answer my question: do you even remember what day it is?”

  “Bust-My-Balls-Day?” I growl, halfway down the corridor towards my room.

  “Josh’s tournament this morning. You signed him up for it. You promised him you’d be there, pulling for him the whole time—but guess what? You were too busy shagging some stranger, drinking to wash your shit away, God only knows what else, and never showed up!”

  Sue chokes on a sob and my body goes rigid, the pang of guilt and remorse hitting me violently inside.

  “Damn you, Brian! He was searching each face in the crowd looking for you the entire time! And I called you like a hundred times but you didn’t even bother to answer the damned phone! You should have seen the disappointment in his eyes... How can you do this to my child, you moron? He looks up to you, you’re his bloody hero!” Her voice has risen with each and every word.

  “Sue, please.”

  “Now, if you don’t want to be part of his life, that’s fine. But don’t make promises you don’t plan to keep, you hear me? Don’t you ever mess with any of my kids again or I’ll...” Her trembling voice trails off.

  Dead silence hangs for a moment, but her words keep echoing through my mind, the taste of regret burning inside. I love her children more than anything in the world and Josh is special. He’s my little mate. I can always rely on him to make me smile or laugh. To keep me on my toes. To give me so much more than I’ll ever be able to give to him. I’d never, ever do anything to purposely let him down.

  “Oh, God...” I inhale deeply, ploughing a hand through my hair as I try to form the words. “I’m so sorry, I truly am. Give me an hour. I’ll go talk to him.”

  “That’s not all.” Another pained look crosses Sue’s face.

  The dull ache in my gut intensifies. I arch my brows, asking her to continue.

  “Jimmy’s been calling you all morning too. It’s Arthur...”

  *

  “It’s all good, don’t be so hard on yourself.” Tapping me reassuringly on the leg, Josh’s eyes flare with understanding as he looks up at me. “I get it, I’m a big boy. How could you have made it, if you’re going away and have like a ton of things to prepare?” Seated on one of the benches of the Holland Park playground, he takes another greedy bite of ice-cream.

  “Right, you’re a big boy now.” I smile at
his innocence, a bitter smile, though. Culpability is eating me up inside. “Three sisters to look after sure is a lot of responsibility. How have you been handling the situation, mate?”

  “Going slowly insane. They’re always crying and whining. I’ve been thinking about moving out.”

  Letting out a laugh, I poke him a little. “Where would you go, kiddo?”

  He shrugs, his attention seemingly more focused on the chocolate chips he’s picking out with his fingers rather than on anything else.

  I stretch back with hands clasped behind my head, feeling the last rays of sun permeate the skin and warm up my face, the anxiety easing at last.

  It’s all quiet now. There were a few endlessly amused kids swaying to and fro on the swings, but they’re gone now. It’s just the two of us and the sound of the leaves in the trees rustling a little.

  “How’s the ice-cream?”

  He glances up at me, his freckled face smudged with vanilla and chocolate. “It’s not contagious, is it?”

  “What? That sticky mess on your face? Hope not.” I hand him a tissue.

  He cleans his mouth clumsily and then puts on his thinking face. “What do you think your life will be like when you die?”

  I’m taken aback for a moment, not really knowing how to explain the impossibility beyond the question. How do you even approach that inescapable part of life at all with a seven-year-old kid?

  “You’ve already heard about Arthur, haven’t you?”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “As far back as I can remember. Did you know he was the one who taught us, Uncle Jimmy and I, how to ride a four-wheel bike? We were fourteen or fifteen. That was one hell of a summer! I’ll teach you too, someday.”

  “Mum says he went to heaven, that everything in heaven is beautiful and perfect.” He pauses with his tongue hanging out, ice-cream dripping onto it. “If it’s such a great place, why was she crying on the phone?”

  “Because it’s always sad when we have to say goodbye to people we care about.”

  “But is it contagious or not?”

  “No! Where did you get that from? Arthur has been very ill for a while now and his heart was too tired and weak to continue to–”

  “Oh good, what a relief!” His shoulders sag, on his face a totally deadpan expression. “Because we went to see him last week and I still have a lot to do before I can go to heaven. Like finish school. Maybe get a girlfriend. You’re also going to die one day, aren’t you?”

  “Nothing in life is certain except death and taxes, a wise man once said.”

  He stops licking and crinkles his nose, staring at me with a funny, puzzled expression. “I don’t understand.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. “It’s okay. It’s complicated, even for adults. But you should know no one ever really dies. They’ll keep on living in our hearts.”

  Josh’s confused expression intensifies. “In our hearts? Wasn’t it in heaven? Where’s heaven anyway?”

  Why do such euphemisms always seem so hard to explain?

  A quick check to my watch confirms I have one hour before the flight is due to take off. “Come, we’d better get going or I’ll miss that plane.”

  He holds my hand as we walk back to the car park. “Ben says they stuck his grandmother inside a coffin until Jesus picked her up.”

  “Yes, some people do that.”

  “And then they planted her.”

  I let out a chuckle. Josh is one of the most thoughtful kids I know. His random connections, quite often little excursions into the absurd, are sometimes as funny as completely and totally insane.

  “Are they going to plant Arthur too? I mean, why would they even put people in the ground? It’s filled with bugs and yucky stuff. Unless they’re going to grow into something. Are they? Why doesn’t Jesus come down right away?”

  “Jesus comes to pick up your soul, not your body.”

  “And why do they put a stone on the top? Ben says is to keep them down there, but where would they go anyway?” He tilts his head and frowns at me, clearly confused. “What’s the soul?”

  Oh boy. I suck in a big breath and look up at the oak trees, secretly hoping for some help on this. Quite frankly, I find it confusing too. “Well, your soul... some people believe there’s a part of us that...” I struggle to find words. “It’s sort of an invisible part that exists within us, something that–”

  “Hey, it’d be really cool if you could bring me an Arsenal jersey!” He shakes my hand, a cute smug smile peeking from the corners of his mouth.

  “Hmm. Not sure I can find those over there. Maybe I can get you something from the New York Knicks instead.” I turn Josh’s cap backwards. “A cap maybe?”

  Eyebrows raised, he gives me a thumbs-up sign. “Have I told you Mattie farts a lot? Emma says those are burps coming out of her tiny butt? What’s your view on that?”

  “Huh...” Right now I don’t have an answer. I think my brain is hurting.

  “This was fun. Can we come back next week again? And try the Smurf ice-cream? Can we bring Emma along? You’ll be back next week, won’t you?”

  “I will. I’ll be back on Friday. How about I pick you up from school? And you stay overnight?”

  Jumping with excitement, Josh high-fives me before he slides into the backseat and slams the door shut, on his face a beaming smile I can’t get enough of. On the outside, the reflection in the car window is one of a guy who’s smiling too, genuinely wishing there were more moments like this.

  *

  “You sure you don’t want to come in?” Josh’s lips set into a little pout.

  I check my watch again. We’re on the pavement, right in front of my sister’s front garden. “Sorry, mate. Really need to go.”

  “But aren’t you saying goodbye to Mum?”

  “I have already. Now go. I’ll wait here till you get inside and wave you all goodbye.”

  “All right then.” He grabs my sleeve and pulls me down, to give me a kiss and whisper in my ear, “Don’t forget my cap. And our guys’ night.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” I ruffle his hair before he runs to the front door, where Sue is already waiting with Mathilda on her hip.

  Standing at the living room window, with her nose pressed against the glass making funny faces, I find Emma, giggling and waving. I wave back.

  Shaking my head amused at the whole scene, I walk to the car and open the door, casting one last glance at them all. For a moment my eyes rest on Emma again, who’s blowing me kisses from the palms of her tiny hands. So cute.

  But then I freeze, the unexpected glimpse of a silhouette behind the drifting gauzy curtains making my heart thump so hard in my chest. Of a woman rocking Marianne in her arms.

  A woman I used to know a long time ago. A very long time ago...

  Chapter Five ~ Olivia

  Oh God, he’s here!

  Oh my, what will you say to him?

  ‘Hello? How have you been doing?’

  Will you hug?

  No. I’ll pretend I have somewhere else to be and then I run.

  Yes, do that. Run. That’s not awkward at all. It’s surely very mature too.

  I know, that’d be extremely stupid. I’ll pretend everything is all right, that I’m really happy to see him again. And then I go hide.

  Wait, he’s not coming in. He’s heading back to the car!

  Thank you, God...

  Oh, no. He’s turned to look at the kids again… and…oh boy. He’s seen you, hasn’t he?

  The possibility our eyes, Brian’s and mine, might have locked for a fleeting second makes my stomach knot. I wince. If it’s the actual physical pain it brings or because this whole day has been happening in such a distressing blur, I can’t discern anymore.

  My rushed flight to London, lots of phone calls in between, meeting family and friends, a funeral director firing hundreds of questions our way. Whether we want a public or intimate ceremony? A formal or a celebration
-of-life funeral? Chrysanthemums or lilies? Live music or soulful taped songs? Pine or oak, chrome or golden handles? The eulogy? The night before, the day after?

  It’s been absolute madness!

  Organising a funeral of someone you love is a strange and absolutely overwhelming experience; it’s only the first day and I’m freaking out already. To make matters worse, I didn’t know until today I had such a dysfunctional family, who seem unable to figure out how they want to celebrate my granddad’s life.

  So, in the middle of another heated argument, this time about whether to hold the wake at home or at the pub, I left. I couldn’t take it anymore, my uncle supporting the latter, my mother repeatedly making the signs of the cross, deeply offended, suggesting it’d be close to an act of blasphemy. Coming from Spain, to her, this is one of those British absurdities she’ll never understand.

  Anyway, if I stayed another five minutes my head would implode.

  And now this?

  It’s been such an insane morning it didn’t occur to me we’d inevitably meet again after all this time. I surely had never imagined there had to be a funeral for that to happen either. Yet here we are. And it feels like I’m being thrown for a loop...

  The light roar of the engine announces he’s finally leaving and my chest expands in a deep breath, followed by a long drawn out sigh of relief.

  Brian Anderson.

  Once my closest and most trusted confidant. My world. The love of my life.

  And my first heartbreak. The person who’d hurt me the most until this day.

  The image of him anchored in my mind sure has changed. He’s got quite an impressive athletic frame now, an attitude that radiates confidence. Short, brown hair, slightly wavy. A charming light stubble. The smile is still the same, though, a sexy half-smile that always made my heart skip a beat.

  I wonder about his piercing greyish-blue eyes, which I couldn’t see from the distance.

  Which is kind of disconcerting, I must admit.

  “Why are you looking at Uncle Brian like that?” Emma pulls at the loose end of my scarf.