Because of Lucy: 2016 Revised Edition (Butterfly Days #1)

by Lisa Swallow

  “Where’s Evan?” she repeats, sitting on the top stair.

  “I don’t know.” If I tell her he’s in Blackpool, she’s bound to leave and she needs help, not more wandering the streets.

  “Why not?”

  “We don’t see each other anymore, Lucy. Didn’t he say?”

  She pushes her long curls from her eyes. “Maybe. I don’t remember. So he’s not coming here tonight?”

  “No, have you tried calling him?”

  “You know he doesn’t answer my calls.”

  This surprises me. I believed things had changed in their relationship. I guess I’ve been out of the loop too long. Looks like I’m back in the loop again.

  Lucy paces around and she eyes the front door. I can’t let her leave. “Let me get you a drink. I’ll call around some people; see if we can find Evan.”

  She sits in the armchair, jiggling her foot on the floor. “Okay, someone can find him, right?”

  “I’m sure we can.”

  I want to ask Lucy what’s wrong, but I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I’m not sure at all what to do in this situation, apart from find for Evan.

  My phone is upstairs, so I take a glass of water to Lucy and tell her I’m going to make some calls. Hands shaking, I dial Evan’s number. We haven’t spoken in over a month and this isn’t a great way to reconnect. The phone rings out and when his voicemail kicks in desire to see him surges through me, on hearing his voice again.

  I hang up. I don’t want to leave this news as a message. Abby. I try her phone, same thing, voicemail. This time I leave a message asking her to call me urgently. They could be anywhere— asleep, partying, out… Or Evan could be busy with a girl.

  I return to Lucy, who’s standing up again, chewing her nails. “Have you found out where he is?”

  “No. But I will. It’s late and he’s probably asleep. Maybe you should wait here until the morning?”

  Lucy rubs her face with both hands and I notice nail marks on her arms, five in a semi-circle. “I don’t know…”

  “Where else will you go? Wait here, and then when we find Evan. He’ll come back for you.”

  Her eyes widen to saucers again. “Do you think he will come for me?”

  Not sure if I should, I reach out and rub her cold arm. “He always does, doesn’t he?”

  32

  NESS

  I jerk awake, catching up to where I am. My arm hurts where I’ve lain against the armchair for hours. Lucy is asleep on the sofa, curled beneath the blanket I put over her. Once she realised I wasn’t able to conjure up Evan for her, she stopped talking, drank a glass of water then stared at her phone for a while. After an hour, I decided Lucy had forgotten anyone was with her. Having no clue at all how to deal with the situation, I sat up with Lucy. The possibility she might leave again was my biggest concern, and how to explain to Evan if something happened before he came back for her. Which he will.

  Uncurling myself from the armchair, I reach out for my own phone and check the screen. Abby hasn’t responded and if Evan noticed my number as a missed call, he’s decided not to call. I sneak upstairs, glancing back to make sure Lucy stays asleep. Why the hell am I involved?

  After three attempts, Evan answers.

  “What?” He’s distant, voice confused and tired.

  “It’s Vanessa. I need to talk to you.”

  “Ness? What the hell? Do you know what time it is?”

  I sigh at the predictability of his reaction but my stomach knots. “It’s 8 a.m.”

  “Too early. Are you trying to get in touch with Abby? She’s not with me right now but I can find her.”

  There’s rustling as he moves.

  “No, I need to talk to you.”

  A silence. “This is a bit random. I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

  “Me? What about you?” I want to say so much to him, but I bite the words back. “Listen, I haven’t got time to get into all that.”

  “Then what?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Why?” His tone sharpens.

  “Are you back in Leeds?”

  “No, I’m in Blackpool. You know that.”

  “Okay…” I can’t hide the affront.

  His tone softens. “Look, sorry, I’m tired. And hungover.”

  My imagination sees him in bed with a girl and I shake the image away. I breathe in a shaky breath, and hate I have to land this on him. On Evan, the guy out living his carefree life with his mates. Relaxing. Escaping.

  “It’s Lucy.”

  “Lucy?” He snaps the word back, there’s no silence this time.

  “She’s with me, in the house, and I don’t know what to do.”

  “Fuck. When? I mean, why? Shit. Is she okay?” On the other end of the line, there’s more rustling and a belt jangling.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong. I didn’t want to ask, Evan. I tried calling last night…”

  “Fuck…I was…”

  “Out?” Again, the image of Evan and a girl, but I have no right to be jealous anymore.

  “Unconscious. Shit. I’m coming back. I don’t have my car. Fuck. Okay, I’ll get the train…” His stream of consciousness reminds me of Lucy, the night I first met her. Incoherent panic.

  “Calm down, Evan. She’s okay.”

  “Ness…my phone battery’s low. I’m going to go. I’ll call you when I get back to Leeds. Tell Lucy I’m coming back.”

  Evan ends the call and I stare at the phone, mind blanked by the situation. The front door slams, jerking me back to reality. No. I approach the top of the stairs. A scrunched up blanket remains on the sofa, but no Lucy.

  “Lucy?”

  I charge downstairs, hoping she’s in the kitchen but knowing she won’t be. Lucy, my shoes, and my bag have gone.

  * * *

  How anybody can disappear so quickly, I’ve no idea. I run to the end of the street but can’t find her. Unable to search due to the fact I don’t have any shoes on, I slink back to the house, avoiding the curious gazes of people watching me from the bus stop.

  Over the next few hours, I try in vain to contact Evan. After the third attempt, I decide to stop; he’ll freak out if he finds a stack of missed calls from me. I sit quietly, listening to the world passing outside and trying to fathom why Lucy would behave like this. Why she’d come here? How the hell did she remember where I live?

  The house faces straight onto the street, and every passer-by can be heard through the window. I jump at each set of footsteps approaching, waiting for Evan, and rehearsing what I’ll say to him.

  His knock is gentler than Lucy’s was, but not much. When I open the door, he pauses before stepping inside and dropping his rucksack on the floor. Evan smells bad. All-nighter, beer-and-kebab bad, and he looks like crap. Dark rings circle his dull eyes, and he’s pale. I fight nausea. I don’t want to have the next conversation with him.

  “Where’s Lucy?” Evan walks to the kitchen, looks in, and then spins back round. “Ness? Where is she? Upstairs?”

  I sit on the sofa, hands shaking. “She left, Evan.”

  “Left? Where?”

  “I don’t know. After I spoke to you, I came downstairs and she’d gone.” Evan stares at me, tired eyes widening. “Sorry,” I mutter.

  Turning on his heel, Evan disappears into the kitchen and I jump as a loud bang echoes out of the door. Evan swears repeatedly and I hesitate, not knowing what to do or say. When I go in, he’s facing away from me, both hands stretched across the sink.

  “Do you have any idea where she went?” he asks hoarsely, not turning.

  “She’s looking for you.”

  “But she doesn’t know where I am.” He turns and leans against the sink. “Did she tell you what happened? How was she? Manic? Depressed?”

  As he says each word, I shake my head. I’m not a Lucy expert. I’ve only met her a few times, and two of those she’s been unwell. “I don’t know… disconnected. She had no shoes on.”

  �
��Lucy’s wandering the streets with no shoes?” The edge of panic he’s held down creeps into his voice.

  “She has my shoes. And my bag. So she has some money.”

  Evan straightens. “I need to use your phone.”

  After giving him my phone, I make tea and return to the lounge. Such an English thing to do, make tea in a crisis. Evan slouches across one arm of the sofa, supporting his head and staring into space.

  “Who did you call?”

  “Everyone.” He picks at the edge of the sofa arm. “Dad, her doctor, her flatmates. No-one’s heard from her.”

  “Do you know why she’s relapsed?”

  “She split up with her boyfriend a few weeks back apparently. No one noticed her mood changes though. She’s good at hiding things until she can’t control the illness anymore.”

  Setting the mugs down, I sit in the chair opposite him. “What do we do?”

  Evan turns his pained eyes to me and I’m overwhelmed with the urge to hold the lost-looking person in front of me.

  “There’s nothing we can do. She’s not even a missing person yet. Officially. Dad’s going to talk to the police anyway. I’ll have to hope she’s still looking for me.” He springs to his feet. “Phone. I need to charge my phone.”

  “Does Lucy have a phone? We can call her.”

  “I tried. Voicemail. Hers is probably out of charge too.”

  Evan hovers and we awkwardly edge around each other so he can reach into his bag. Pulling his phone charger out, he stands uncertainly. Gently, I take it from him, and place it on the table. I curl my hand around his and squeeze. “I’ll sort this out, Evan. Why don’t you take a shower? You’ll feel better, and then we can decide what you want to do. I’ll wait here for phone calls.”

  “Last time…” he pauses and pulls his hand away. “Last time she did this, things didn’t end well.”

  33

  EVAN

  Ness drives me home. To Lancaster, I mean. The world around is cold and alien; fear and anger are barely contained beneath my façade. Beside me is Ness. Calming, beautiful Ness who knows what to say and when to say nothing. I want to tell her what this means to me, but I’m dead inside. Numb. I keep picturing Lucy’s body, waiting for a call from the police. Almost forty-eight hours and no one’s heard from her.

  We sit in the garden, where I sat with Lucy in spring. The daffodils have gone; gardening isn’t something Dad does, so the soil is barren now, apart from the dandelions Lucy used to love as a child. Early summer fills the air around us—the birds, the smell of mown grass, and the sun shining on the brown and green of the distant hills.

  Two days and no news. All we can do is wait. I’m paralysed and can’t do anything but sit near the phone in a distant dream, a nightmare where I don’t know if my sister is alive or dead.

  “I have to head back to Leeds today,” says Ness. “I have a shift in the morning.”

  I blink. Sometimes I forget she’s with me. “Sure.”

  Ness puts her hand on my knee again. She keeps doing that. I want to hold Ness and tell her how I feel about us, but I can’t.

  “Unless you need me to stay.”

  Breath shudders from my lungs. Need. What causes all the fuck ups in my life? I look at her. “You do what you need, Ness.”

  Her eyes shine with tears. “I need to know if you’re okay.”

  I can’t stop looking at her; the beautiful mouth I once kissed is set in a hard line, a crease of concern above her shining eyes. I wish I’d never pushed her away.

  With the shuddering breath come the words I should’ve said a day ago, each and every time she’s asked me. “I’m not okay.”

  Ness reaches a hand and touches my face with gentle fingers. “I’m here,” she says. I close my eyes, so I can’t feel. Can’t let anyone in.

  I jerk in surprise as her lips touch mine. One soft, buzz of a kiss, and she pulls away again. The desire to hold Ness and feel her warmth flows into me, the need to reconnect with her overwhelming. I lean forward and kiss her too, place my mouth on her familiar, soft lips. We embrace and kiss slowly even though my body aches to pull her tight, hold her to me, and never let go.

  Moving my face away, I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. “Thank you.”

  She takes my hand and squeezes. “I’ll stay if you need me to.”

  Dark smudges sit beneath Ness’s eyes. She’s slept in my bed while I’ve lain awake downstairs; but I don’t think she’s had much sleep either.

  “You should go,” I tell her.

  Ness moves to cup my cheek. “You need someone here for you.”

  I wish she wouldn’t use that word. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not; your sister’s missing and you’re struggling.”

  “I’ve managed before.” She tries to hold my hand again. I can’t. I pull it away. “Ness. Don’t. I’d rather cope alone.”

  Inhaling deeply, Ness rubs her tired eyes. “I know we haven’t spoken for a few weeks, but I do care about you, Evan. I hate seeing you hurting. I want to help.”

  “You have helped. But you have your own life to go back to.”

  “The battery farm can wait; what are they going to do? Fire me? I’ve only got a week left anyway…” Ness trails off as my eyes betray how I feel. “Sorry, I mean…”

  “Until you go. It’s okay, not as if I expect you to be around forever.”

  I don’t know what she sees in my face, because I’m sure everything I’m feeling is hidden well, but her eyes fill with tears. I close mine, not wanting to see them spill. Why is she crying? She sniffs and I open them to see her shake her head and blink before offering me a weak smile.

  “I’m here for you now.” Ness puts both hands on my cheeks.

  Sometimes people say something really small, but the words fit right into an empty space in your heart. I put my hands over hers. “I love you.”

  And the barely contained tears spill down her face, from eyes continuing to search mine and pushing deeper into my soul. My hands remain on hers as she kisses me, wet cheek catching against my stubbled cheek. Need. I need to hold onto what I have now, and somehow deal with the pain when I lose her.

  NESS

  An emotionally raw Evan holds my hands, warm and rough, as if he doesn’t want to let go. For the last two days, I’ve stayed with Evan, listened and calmed him, and shared his frustration at the lack of help available. The insight I’ve gained into what he’s dealt with over the last few years breaks my heart. This is the third time Lucy has disappeared, and each time he took charge. As a sixteen year old, Evan was the one who took on the responsibility for his twin’s health. I tell Evan how wrong this is, how if she were physically unwell, nobody would’ve expected him to care for her. Evan refuses to listen.

  A phone rings inside the house and Evan drops his hands, turning his head to the sound. A phone. He darts inside and when he returns and passes my ringing phone to me, disappointment flickers across his face.

  “Vanessa? Are you okay? Where are you?” Mum’s voice is several octaves higher than usual, and I can hear my dad’s voice in the background.

  “Mum, I’m fine. I’m staying with a friend. Why? Are you in Leeds?”

  “No. The police called. There’s a girl. She had your purse and she’s in hospital, and the description didn’t sound like you…” As my mum rambles in panic, I turn my gaze to Evan fighting back tears.

  “Is she okay? The girl?”

  Evan pales and steps towards me. “What? What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know if she’s okay, darling; we’re out of our minds with worry. Did someone steal your purse?”

  “No. No, I know her. Where is she?”

  “Can I talk to her? Please?” Evan holds out his hand, eyes desperate.

  I hand him the phone and he walks away, back into the garden. He talks, voice low, and I can’t hear.

  When Evan returns, he hands me the phone. “She’s in Manchester.”

  “Lucy? Where?”

/>   He looks at me oddly. “Hospital. They found her wandering on a main road. Confused. Your mum gave me the social worker’s number. I’ll call them now.”

  “Call your dad at work.”

  Evan rubs his head. “Why?”

  “You need to stop owning this, Evan.” I say the words as gently as I can. I’ve held off saying them for two days, but I can’t anymore.

  “She needs my help, Ness.”

  “No, she needs help. Not just yours.”

  My mind harks back to the first time we encountered Lucy in our relationship, the disgust I felt at Evan’s family’s reliance on him. And how, months later, I was certain he’d moved away from his imagined obligation to her. Clearly, this never happened.

  “Don’t start this conversation now,” he says quietly.

  The vulnerable Evan who kissed me outside has already retreated to the Evan who copes by closing down. He needs me, yes, but to be the Ness from the last two days. The other Ness and Evan can be talked about later.

  * * *

  I miss my shift, to drive Evan and his dad to Manchester. Lucy is in the Emergency Ward, which I can’t fathom, because Evan said she’s physically okay. Evan patiently explains to me the failings of the Public Health system. Everything I’ve seen and heard repeatedly my whole life, heard my parents complain about, I see first-hand, because now this situation touches my life. The psych wards are full and there’s nowhere else for Lucy to go. She wasn’t well enough to wait alone for us to arrive, so she’s waiting in a cubicle, frightened and confused.

  Evan and his dad leave me in the waiting room where my eyes open to the world I have been protected from. No illness interrupted my family or childhood, none of the struggles lain out around ever touched my comfortable life. The system isn’t failing only Lucy, but Evan too. I rest my head against the magnolia painted wall, bunched up on a bucket seat amongst other people waiting for treatment. My eyelids won’t stay open and I doze, the sound of children and nurses around me.