Without another word the twins drank to the bottom of their cups. Then I did the same.
‘I’ll tell you what. Would you two like to sleep in my bed tonight? I could hold you both and we could all fall asleep together.’
‘That would be great.’
‘Yippee!’
‘Come on then.’ I smiled.
The twins were out of bed and ahead of me within moments. I fingered the tablet bottle that was in my pocket.
‘Forgive me,’ I said to the empty room. Who was I speaking to? Alex? Nicole? God? Myself?
I followed the twins into my bedroom. They were already sitting up in the bed.
‘What are all these books on the floor, Nan?’ Judy asked.
‘My diaries.’
‘Can we read them?’ said Julian.
‘Maybe some time.’
I pulled off my dressing gown and got into the middle of the bed, where I sat between my grandchildren, my back against the headboard.
‘Are you going to read us a story, Nan?’ Judy yawned.
‘Not tonight, precious. I’ve got something to finish. Snuggle down, you two, and go to sleep.’
The twins did as I asked.
‘What are we … going to … do … tomorrow?’ Julian’s voice was getting fainter and fainter.
‘Anything we want to do, my love,’ I replied. ‘Anything at all.’
A yawn from Judy, and the twins were asleep. I smiled down at them, then stroked their hair. Opening my diary, I began to write.
25 December
I got back from Oxford at about four o’clock in the morning and fell straight into bed. It seemed like I’d only just shut my eyes when the twins came bounding into the room, waking me up. Without warning Julian pulled back the curtains, nearly frying my eyeballs, it was so bright outside.
‘Get up, Nan. It’s Christmas Day!’ they yelled, trying to pull me out of bed.
Where did they get their energy from?
I had a shower and got dressed before popping into Nicole’s room. She wasn’t there. I went downstairs. I called her several times but there was no answer. I went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
‘Do you know where your mother is?’ I asked the twins, who were lying on the kitchen floor poring over a junior puzzle book. They got to their feet immediately. Judy giggled – an infectious giggle that soon had Julian smirking behind his hand.
‘Where is she?’ I asked, mildly curious.
‘Nan, Nan, come on. We’ve got a surprise for you. We want to show you what we got you for Christmas. It’s a special present,’ Julian said.
‘Yeah, very special. You will like it, won’t you?’ Judy asked anxiously.
At that moment I was more interested in where their mother was, and my morning cup of tea, but it was the twins’ day and I didn’t want to be a spoilsport. Besides, I wasn’t going to get a thing out of them until the presents were opened. They took me by the hands and pulled me into the lounge. Nicole was sitting in the armchair with her back to me. She was facing the Christmas tree.
‘Nicole, your children are kidnapping me!’ I laughed.
Nicole didn’t reply. She didn’t even turn her head. She sat absolutely still. I sighed inwardly, guessing that she was still angry at me. Julian and Judy pulled me round the armchair. I looked at the tree, its green branches decorated with silver and gold and scarlet tinsel boas and fairy lights. It looked so beautiful. And underneath it were the presents, most of which had already been opened. I smiled at the sight, not at all surprised that the twins couldn’t wait.
‘Nan, look at your present,’ Julian said proudly.
He and Judy spun me round. I smiled ruefully at Nicole. My smile froze and died on my lips. Bile stung the back of my throat. Both hands flew to my mouth. I had to clench my teeth and lips together to stifle the scream inside me.
Nicole’s unseeing eyes were open and staring straight ahead. She didn’t blink. She couldn’t blink. A thin stream of dark blood ran from the corner of her mouth down her chin and onto her neck. I fell to my knees. My stomach was turning.
‘Nan … Nan, don’t you like it?’ Judy asked, her lips quivering with disappointment.
I tightly closed my eyes at the sight. My whole body was shaking now. My face was so set I felt I’d never be able to open my mouth or my eyes again.
‘You don’t like it,’ Julian said sadly.
‘What have you done? What have you done?’ I swallowed convulsively. I was going to be sick. I couldn’t be sick. I opened my eyes to stare at my grandchildren. Out of the corner of my eye I was aware of Nicole. Nicole … sitting and staring …
‘But, Nan, you said she should burn in Hell. You said she deserved to,’ Judy said, bewildered.
‘Only we couldn’t burn her because you always told us not to play with matches and fire …’ Julian said.
‘So we did the next best thing,’ Judy continued. ‘We waited until she was sitting down, opening her presents. That’s when we got her. We only did it for you, Nanny. We thought you’d be pleased.’
‘Besides, she deserved it. She said all those nasty things about us,’ Julian sniffed. ‘And she didn’t like what we did to the rabbit and the puppy.’
I stared at them. Such beautiful eyes. Such angelic, serene faces.
‘Cloudy bit Julian’s finger,’ Judy said, frowning at the memory. ‘We couldn’t let her get away with that, could we?’
Julian started laughing. ‘So I stood on her neck. It was so funny. Do you remember, Judy? Her neck went crunch. D’you remember?’
I covered my mouth with a trembling hand. Several seconds passed and I still couldn’t trust myself to speak. Nicole …
Judy nodded and laughed with her brother. It was the laughter that did it. I was no longer shaking. I was very still.
‘Then you got us Joey,’ Julian said, his smile fading into anger.
‘He widdled on me when I was holding him,’ Judy said indignantly. ‘It was disgusting.’
‘So we—’
‘Don’t … oh, don’t …’ I raised my hand. My voice shocked me. It was so weak. I’d never felt so alone or afraid – not even when Alex died. This was much, much worse. Because I wasn’t afraid for myself.
‘Anyway, that was ages ago,’ Julian said dismissively.
‘Nan, don’t you like your special present?’ Judy asked.
I looked at her. My granddaughter – my precious Judith. I turned my head to look at Nicole. Nicole … sitting and staring …
I stood up slowly, feeling old. Very old.
‘We’re going to play with our presents now.’ Judy smiled, first at me, then at her brother.
They skipped off into the kitchen. I closed my eyes and turned away from them. I sank down onto the floor as if I’d been struck. I tried to get up but I couldn’t move. A long, long time passed and still I couldn’t move. At last I felt I had to stand up or I’d never stand again. My legs numb, I stumbled over to the windowsill. A photo of my daughter Nicole with the twins now took pride of place in the centre. Nicole was laughing, Julian and Judy proudly cradled to her.
Nicole …
I couldn’t help it. I buried my head in my hands. If I clamped my teeth any harder together, they would crumble. If I separated them just a fraction I knew I would howl and scream and never, ever stop.
I don’t really know what Julian and Judith did for the rest of the day. They played quietly and whispered to each other. I sat in the kitchen, drinking cup after cup of tea, trying to decide what I should do next.
This evening it came to me. The answer was quite simple really.
They won’t separate Judith and Julian and me. I can’t allow that. We only have each other now.
So we’ll go to sleep.
And where we’re going, no one will split us up.
26
RESURFACING FROM LILY Channing’s dream was like being deep down in a warm sea and slowly rising to the surface. My journey back to the train was so quiet and peacef
ul. A much slower journey back than from any of the other dreams. I’d been right. The way back to reality was getting harder; staying lost in the dreams I inhabited was getting easier.
I was back on the train and my heart wasn’t even pounding. I squatted down beside Lily, taking her hand in both of mine. There was something I had to know. ‘Lily, did you say you had two grandchildren?’
‘That’s right.’ Her expression turned soft as melted butter. ‘Judith and Julian. They’re twins.’
‘And you said you had a daughter called Nicole?’
Lily frowned. ‘I can’t remember saying that.’
‘But you do have a daughter called Nicole?’
‘That’s right.’
‘What did you get for Julian and Judith for Christmas last year?’ I asked.
‘Kyle, you mustn’t,’ Rachel said sternly. ‘We haven’t got time for this. He’s almost corporeal now, and once he takes his full shape you’ll never get away. He’ll take you with him. Is that what you want?’
Ignoring her, I repeated my question to Lily.
‘I bought them … a puppy,’ she said.
‘And a rabbit the year before?’
‘How did you know that?’
I shook my head. That didn’t matter.
A rabbit and a puppy … And this Christmas her much-loved grandchildren would give her their very special present. Should I say something? Warn her? Tell her? What?
‘Lily, don’t get Julian and Judith any more pets. Don’t even offer to get them another one.’
‘Why not?’
‘Kyle, no …’ said Rachel.
‘Lily, your grandchildren …’
‘What about them?’ She smiled at me. The mere thought of her grandchildren was enough to light up her entire face.
I couldn’t do it. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. The dreams I’d inhabited were about possibles and probables, not certainties. If I tried to warn her, I might do more harm than good. Besides, it wasn’t the dreams themselves that were important or even why I was suddenly able to jump into the dreams of those around me. Living through each dream, each experience with my friends and strangers alike had taught me something. Quite simply that I wasn’t alone in being afraid. That sooner or later everyone had to face their own fears. Just like my dad had had to face his. Just like I had to face my fears now …
I realized that I wasn’t just living though the nightmares of my friends. This feeling of being alone, of being helpless – this was my own nightmare. A nightmare that had been with me since the day my dad died.
‘Listen to me, Kyle. It’s not too late,’ Rachel said eagerly. ‘We can still get out together.’
‘How?’
Rachel pointed up. ‘Through there. I’ll hoist you up. You go and get help and then we can all be rescued.’
I frowned. ‘If I try to climb out, the train might tip. I don’t think it’s any safer for me to do it than it was for Lily.’
‘It will be safer, because you’re stronger, younger and faster. You can be up and out instead of scrambling around all over the outside of the train like she would have done.’
I looked up. Rachel had a point. Once I was hoisted up, I’d be in contact with the outside of the train for less than five seconds. I didn’t even have to close my eyes to imagine how it would happen – straight up, then jump down onto the tracks. No mess, no fuss and no train plummeting to the ground. And by now they were bound to have turned off the electricity so there’d be no danger of stepping on the live rail. I could run up the track to the nearest station and get help for everyone. And running was something I could do. What could be simpler?
I turned to Rachel, doubtfully. ‘I don’t think you’d be able to take my weight.’
‘Believe me, Kyle, I’m stronger than I look,’ Rachel insisted.
‘Why don’t I help you to get out instead?’ I suggested. ‘That way there’s even less chance of the train falling.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘No, I need to stay. I have unfinished business here. Come on, we’re wasting time. You need to get out whilst you still can.’
‘Kyle, wait … Please wait for me …’ The shadow’s voice sounded strangely desperate. Or was the desperation mine?
I looked from Rachel to the shadow and back again. Rachel linked her hands together as she stood before me. Her hands made a perfect foothold. I could step into her hands and then boost myself up to the window above. I’d be out of here …
‘Come on, Kyle. It’s now or never.’
I looked up again. Patches of blue were struggling through the grey now, and I longed to be closer to it. Out there, outside I could escape. I wouldn’t be part of all this any more. I’d be safe, I’d be free …
It was the hardest decision I’d ever had to make.
‘Kyle …’ Death began to move towards me, his footsteps silent and relentless.
‘Kyle, let’s go …’ Rachel urged.
Running away … Running. I was so, so tired of running.
‘I think … I’m going to stay here,’ I said at last.
A strange resolve settled over me. I was going to stay with my friends. And if that meant meeting Death, then so be it. God knows, I didn’t want to die. There were so many things I wanted to do, so many places to see and people to meet. Life was precious. Funny how it’d taken a train crash and facing the fears of my friends and strangers alike to make me realize that. Life was precious – and mine was running out. I guess it’s true what they say: you can’t really appreciate something until you’re in danger of losing it or it’s gone. So why wasn’t I clambering out of the window above me? I really didn’t have a clue. It was probably the worst decision of my life – but at least I wasn’t running any more.
‘Aren’t you afraid?’ Rachel asked me.
I turned to face her. ‘Only an idiot wouldn’t be terrified and I’m not an idiot.’
‘Then go. The train could go over at any moment,’ she urged.
‘No. I’m staying here. We make it out together or we all go down together,’ I said quietly.
Rachel’s hands dropped to her side. She shook her head, her expression saying it all.
‘I know.’ I nodded in agreement. She was right. I was an idiot.
I could no longer ignore the footsteps crunching over the train debris as they came up behind me. He must be a solid entity now if I could hear his footfall. Death had finally caught up with me. But at least I could turn and face him. Even if I couldn’t do anything else, I could do that.
One deep breath, then I turned round. A man stood less than a metre away, no longer shrouded in shadow. He was wearing trainers and jeans. I held my breath as I raised my head to look at Death’s face. But before I could focus, a sudden pain sang in my head, like I’d just been punched in my temple. And it hurt like hell. It couldn’t be another dream – I wasn’t focusing on anyone. I wasn’t trying to hide any more. But the pounding against my head didn’t stop. I was on the verge of collapsing when the world became silent and still. And I was in the head of the very last person I’d expected. I was inside my dad’s nightmare.
27
Tony’s Nightmare
AN ACCIDENT IS a strange thing. It’s like, just for a split second, the whole world explodes in your head. And then comes that moment, that in-between moment. That split second which lasts for ever and resides somewhere between total calm and wild panic, between acceptance and rejection, sometimes between life and death itself. You can be born, live and die all within that one moment. You can see things more clearly in that fraction of a second than you ever have in your whole life before. At least, that’s what happened to me. You see, my wife left me. It’s that simple. She left me. And I didn’t see it coming. I was busy with my travel business. Too busy. Yes, I travelled a lot, but very rarely with her. Yes, I didn’t pay her as much attention as I should have done.
But I loved her and she left me.
‘Fitz, I’m not happy.’
‘Fitz, we n
eed to go out more, just the two of us.’
‘Fitz, you’re not listening to me.’
All those comments were too subtle for me. Why didn’t Londie just come right out and say, ‘Tony, I’m going to leave you if things don’t change.’
I would have heard that. That would have got through.
She left me.
And even when I read her goodbye letter, I still didn’t believe it.
It was all just a mistake, a misunderstanding. At least, that’s what I told myself.
With each minute that passed, I expected to hear her key in the door, I expected to see her walk into our sitting room, her tail between her legs. And I had my greeting all prepared.
‘What did you think you were playing at, Londie? I knew you’d be back. Like you could even find your way to the end of the road without me.’
Only I never got the chance to practise my well-rehearsed few lines. The intended audience never put in an appearance. And still I clung to the hope that Londie would come home. I rehearsed new lines.
‘Londie, how could you put our son through this? D’you know what you’ve put me through? But I knew you’d be back. I never doubted it.’
She never heard those lines either. So after a few weeks they changed yet again. The hardest change of all.
‘Londie, love, I’m sorry – OK. What d’you want me to say? I’m really sorry. I’ll do better. I’ll try harder, I promise. I didn’t realize just how much I’d miss you. Please forgive me. Just give me one more chance, I promise you won’t regret it.’
That was my last speech. It played to an empty house.
Kyle’s birthday was the day when reality rose up and bit my heart clean out of my chest. Londie wasn’t coming home. If not for Kyle, then certainly not for me. The next day I went to work on autopilot. I don’t remember walking along the street to the station. The train journey was more vague than a blur. I blinked and I was at my desk. Another blink and an hour had passed and I was on the phone with no idea what I was saying or who I was talking to. By lunch time I’d had enough. I mumbled something to my boss about not feeling well and headed for the door before she had a chance to respond. I don’t remember getting home, I just remember being home. I stood in my lonely bedroom looking at myself in the dressing-table mirror, her dressing-table mirror. Seeing myself as she must’ve seen me all these years. I don’t remember what I thought then. Maybe because I don’t want to remember. The whole day is a series of snapshots, fragments of moments frozen in my memory.