Hannah nodded again. She could barely hold her head up and struggled to see the screen, let alone the words on it. But she trusted Sam with all her being. Whatever she said would be fine.
‘So Rob’s telling some people, Beth will be too and we’ve covered Facebook and both your mobiles. We’ve done well.’
‘There’s still all the messages on the landline,’ Hannah said.
‘They can wait. We’ve done enough for now.’ Sam shut the laptop, startling Hannah slightly. It was as if she was coming out of a trance. She peered at her watch, and frowned. Over two hours had passed without her realising. She felt so numb.
‘You must be exhausted,’ Sam said.
‘I am a bit.’ And suddenly she was. It was only coming up to seven o’clock, but Hannah felt as if she’d struggle to walk to the bedroom, let alone get changed into her pyjamas. But at the same time, she didn’t feel sleepy tired and wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep. How could she? She couldn’t imagine doing any of the normal things again. Putting on a front and eating Christmas lunch had been a real struggle. But she’d have to try, wouldn’t she?
‘Come on, then, let’s get you into bed,’ Sam said. ‘You probably won’t actually sleep, but you need to try and at least get some rest.’
‘I know. I’ll try,’ Hannah said, easing herself slowly to her feet.
‘Do you want me to call one of those medical clinics that do house-calls? They could prescribe you something.’
‘Thanks, but I’m okay.’ Well, I’m not, and some sleeping tablets might be good, but I can’t think about or deal with anything else or speak to another person right now. I don’t even have the energy to say the words.
‘You can always let me know if you change your mind. Meanwhile, I’ll get us some milk with brandy. That might help.’
‘All right.’
Chapter Five
Hannah stood at the doorway to the bedroom staring in while listening to Sam preparing their drinks in the kitchen. She couldn’t make herself step over the threshold where everything was exactly the same as it had been that morning. Tristan’s track pants, t-shirt and fleece top were still laid over the chair and she knew his scent would still be on his clothes and pillow. She couldn’t bear to smell him, but couldn’t bear not to. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she made her way across to their bed and pulled back the covers on Tristan’s side and climbed in. She buried her head in his pillow and took a deep whiff. And then the floodgates opened again.
The next thing she knew was the sound of a glass being put on the side table and the bed shifting as Sam settled against her.
‘Oh Hann,’ Sam cooed, drawing Hannah to her and wrapping her arms around her friend.
‘He’s everywhere,’ Hannah sobbed, clinging to her friend.
‘I know, sweetie, I know. Let it out.’
After a few minutes Hannah sat up and dried her eyes. She picked up her glass and sipped.
‘Do you feel a little better?’ Sam asked, clearly feeling the need to say something, but not sure what that should be.
‘Yes and no. I feel both numb and aching inside. I know that doesn’t really make sense. I don’t feel right and, worse than that, I have this awful feeling that I’ll never feel quite right again.’
‘I feel so helpless,’ Sam said. ‘I just wish there was something I could do or say to take the pain away. If only I could wave a magic wand and make this not have happened at all.’ Tears were flowing freely, streaking her face. She reached over and gripped Hannah’s hand and offered her a sad smile.
Hannah returned her friend’s gaze and squeezed her hand. ‘I know. Me too. But I’m so lucky to have you,’ she said. ‘Thank you for being here.’
‘I always will be, just like you would be for me. Now drink your brandy, it feels good and I’m sure it will help.’
Hannah did as she was told.
‘Do you mind if I have the TV on quietly? Would that bother you? It’s too early for me to go to bed.’
‘No, that’s okay. I doubt I’ll fall asleep anyway. Here,’ she added, handing over the remote that Tristan always commandeered.
‘At least close your eyes and try and rest,’ Sam said.
‘I don’t think I’ll have a choice. I feel absolutely wrung out.’
Sam turned on the TV and they sat up side by side sipping on their drinks. An old Christmas movie was just starting. Hannah stared at it whilst concentrating on getting her mind to still. Slowly she started to feel the relaxing effects of the brandy.
Having put her empty glass aside, she snuggled down. God, she wished she couldn’t smell Tristan’s scent, but buried her face deeper into it anyway. It made her feel so much sadder, but it was also kind of nice. Or was it? Was it making her feel worse? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t drag herself away from it. Everything was so confusing and she was too exhausted to think any more …
*
The next thing Hannah knew there was a gasp from Sam and the sound of fumbling. She sat up and looked over at her friend – who was clearly trying to pick something up off the bedside table – and then turn off the TV. She let out a gasp of her own and brought her hands to her face. There on the screen was the chaotic scene of a vehicle accident. Uniformed emergency service personnel moved quickly and methodically around a barely recognisable green sedan with a truck lodged deeply in its distorted side. What affected Hannah the most was seeing the several blankets or sheets draped about. She knew their placement was strategic, deliberate. That meant the bodies were still there during filming. The ticker tape running across the bottom of the screen told her that three people had died in the accident and that the truck driver was in a critical condition.
She felt the bile making its way up into her throat, dragged back the covers and stumbled out of bed. In the bathroom she threw up curdled milk and brandy into the toilet. And then it was over and Sam was beside her rubbing her back and stroking her hair.
‘Oh my god. I am so, so sorry. I didn’t think,’ Sam said, remote still in hand.
Hannah stared at her friend, seeing but not really seeing her.
‘Hann, I’m really sorry. Please forgive me.’ She looked more stricken, worse than she’d looked since, since …
Hannah couldn’t find any words. She swiped away the tears.
‘What can I do?’ Sam said. Hannah held out her hand to be helped up and then allowed herself to be led back to the bedroom.
She crawled back into bed and curled into the foetal position, trying to climb into herself and find some comfort, anything. A moment later she realised Tristan’s scent was now all around her, and stronger. Her darling Tris.
The wail of an injured wild animal made its way around the room. And then she felt Sam’s body covering her from behind, her arms wrapping around her, drawing her close.
‘Oh, Sam, it hurts. It hurts so, so much.’
‘I know, sweetie,’ Sam said, rubbing Hannah’s back.
Hannah’s chest heaved, the lump in her throat exploded and she sobbed like she’d never sobbed before. She took huge gasping, gulping breaths and fought for air when all she wanted to do was die, drown, choke on her tears and for this pain to end. She felt Sam’s body shaking as she sobbed along with her.
After what seemed forever, the episode subsided and Sam slowly eased her grip and drew away. Hannah was spent, but wide awake. She closed her eyes, but she could still see the mangled wreckage draped with blankets and the line of text making its way across the bottom of the screen. She opened her eyes and stared at the carpet, but it was there too. She was so tired, but she’d never sleep now. And couldn’t imagine ever being able to again. Her whole body ached with sadness.
‘Please don’t leave me,’ she whispered.
‘Never,’ Sam whispered back.
*
Hannah woke with a start, unsure of where she was. What had woken her? A bad dream? She stayed still, trying to remember and trying to get her bearings. Her heart began to race. She was in her
bedroom, but she was on the wrong side of her bed. But Tristan was there beside her, she could hear quiet breathing. Thank god. It had just been a dream – well, nightmare, more like. Fragments came back to her. She took a few deep breaths and rolled over towards him. Why was he on the wrong side? Oh well. She desperately needed to be enveloped in his strong arms, drawn into his warm chest and be reassured everything was all right. But the breathing wasn’t quite right, was it?
Suddenly she was wide awake. It wasn’t Tristan at all. A mass of dark hair fanned out across the pillow beside her. Sam. The truth hit her like a bolt of lightning. And then she felt her heart and soul leave her for the second time that day.
Hannah slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Sam. At least someone was getting some sleep. In the kitchen she got a glass of water and stood at the bench sipping it while wondering what she could do to pass the hours until daylight. She wasn’t going to turn on the television and risk seeing the news highlights again. She sighed at thinking how if her mum were here she’d say everything would seem better in the morning. Hannah felt terribly sad to think that this time Daphne would be very, very wrong.
She went through into the lounge and sat down in front of the Christmas tree. Part of her wanted to take all the ornaments off and pack it away. It was too joyful. But at the same time she welcomed its bright, twinkling cheer. Didn’t she?
But taking away the reminders that it was Christmas might help her start to move on, mightn’t it? Hannah didn’t know what she should do. Anyway, she might make too much noise and wake Sam, she realised. She looked at the presents underneath. She knew what was contained in all but three – Tristan’s to her. The others were from her, and them.
She reached forward to retrieve the smallest, which was sitting on top. Placing it there would have been almost the last thing Tris would have done before he’d left, before he’d left the house and then left her forever, she thought with a renewed pang of sadness and heartache. She knew what the parcel contained – well, sort of. She always knew the general theme of what she was being given, just not the actual form.
Hannah turned the small package over, unsure if she really wanted to open it or not, as she thought fondly but sadly about how his gift-giving tradition – which had ended today – had started.
For their first Christmas as a couple, Tristan had given Hannah a gorgeous bracelet with a heart charm dangling from it. Excited that she loved it so much, and not one to enjoy traipsing to shop after shop looking for the perfect gift, he’d seized the opportunity to make things easier for himself and begun a new tradition.
That first year Hannah had given Tristan a beautiful silk tie after seeing him admire it but dismiss it as too expensive. While it hadn’t become such an entrenched habit as his gifts to her had, Hannah often gave him a really smart tie or another carefully selected piece of clothing. They tended to give each other one special gift and then two that were more along the lines of useful or practical – items like books, DVDs, vouchers or golf balls for Tristan. Things they’d usually asked for. From day one Tristan had wholeheartedly adopted the Whites’s gift-giving quirk. He’d fitted in well straight away, full stop, she thought sadly.
She slowly and carefully prised the tightly tied ribbon off and then the sticky tape, and eased the small jewellers’ box out of its paper wrapping. She paused. Did she really want to know what her last gift from Tristan was? But the need to have something of him, something he’d have considered carefully and chosen just for her saw her prise open the box.
She gasped. Inside, sitting on a small white cushion, was a stunning red-and-black enamel ladybird charm.
‘Oh, Tris,’ she whispered.
She sat with the box on her lap staring up at the Christmas tree, feeling engulfed with another layer of sadness added to what had already settled within her. Where was the luck this charm was meant to bring?
At that moment she realised you really could possibly die of a broken heart. She certainly felt as if she were dying. The tears made their way down her face and she struggled to find the energy to lift her hand to wipe them away. Her numbness was so strong she almost felt paralysed. As she stared at the brightly lit tree, she realised she now knew with certainty when Tristan’s parents had last put up a Christmas tree and why they no longer bothered.
Tristan had always shrugged off their lack of Christmas participation, but now she wondered if that was because he didn’t want to dwell on it, and his brother’s death. To celebrate as they had before would be too stark a reminder of who was missing. Hannah could see that now. She felt bad for the judgemental thoughts she’d had – which, thankfully, she’d always kept to herself. She’d thought they didn’t care, now she realised they’d actually cared too much.
God, how would they cope with losing another son – their only other child? Parents weren’t meant to outlive their children, but she was reminded of how her own parents hadn’t. That was right, but still so, so wrong.
‘Here you are.’
Hannah looked up through sodden lashes to see Sam standing in the doorway.
‘What are you doing? Are you okay?’
Hannah silently held up the small box containing the charm.
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘But why this?’ Hannah said. ‘Why now?’
‘Oh, Hann, I don’t know.’ Sam sighed heavily as she settled herself cross-legged beside her friend, put an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close.
‘But you’re always saying everything is connected, everything means something,’ said Hannah.
‘I don’t know, Hann. To be honest, I don’t know what to believe anymore – after yesterday. Maybe I’ve had it wrong all these years,’ she added quietly.
Hannah stared at the charm in the box, deliberating over whether to add it to her bracelet or not. It seemed somehow disrespectful to Tristan not to, but it clearly wasn’t lucky. It hadn’t stopped the accident, her whole life being ruined. But perhaps that was because it had been locked away in its box. Perhaps if they’d unwrapped their presents over breakfast no one would have died. Hannah’s mind was starting to race.
‘Maybe it will bring you good luck for the future,’ Sam whispered, her voice shaky, drawing Hannah away from her thoughts.
Maybe it will. Hopefully it will, because I’m certainly going to need it. Hannah nodded in reply and took the charm out of the box and started to add it to her chain. She liked to keep the charms in order because, until now, she’d felt they’d been telling a story: love heart, ‘H’, ‘&’, ‘T’ and the infinity symbol. She smiled sadly at remembering how she’d jokingly ribbed Tristan about how he shouldn’t have kept the ‘H’ separated from ‘T’ for a whole year – it might prove bad luck. He’d told her to be patient and not be greedy. And now the real H and T had been separated forever.
And now she had a ladybug, a well-known symbol for good luck. It was beautiful, but didn’t really seem to fit the pattern. And had come too late …
‘Come on, let’s go and try to get some more sleep,’ Sam said.
Again Hannah nodded, and allowed herself to be helped up from the floor. She felt like she was a child again, and being taken back to bed by her dad after falling asleep in front of the television. Oh, if only …
Chapter Six
Hannah had been lightly dozing for ages. She didn’t want to wake Sam, who was sleeping soundly beside her. The light filtering through the blinds and curtains told Hannah it was quite late in the morning – maybe even as late as nine, although she could be wrong. She was usually good at reading the level of light and guessing the time, but she didn’t think she could be sure of anything anymore. Ordinarily she was an early riser, too, but she didn’t want to get up and face the day. She heard rustling and turned over to find Sam looking at her.
‘How are you doing this morning?’ her friend asked.
‘Same. Pretty shit,’ Hannah said quietly. ‘I guess that’s to be expected, right?’
‘I’m afraid so. Did
you manage to get any sleep?’
‘Bits here and there.’
‘I probably should have insisted on getting a doctor in to give you something. Sorry.’
‘It’s okay. I could have asked. Anyway, I don’t want to get hooked on prescription drugs – I’ve got enough problems already to deal with.’
‘I think you’d be okay with one or two, just a couple of nights, but I suppose it’s good to be cautious. Well, at least keep it in mind. It’s an option. You’re going to need your wits about you so you’ll need a decent sleep sometime soon. And plenty of food. Could you eat? I’m starving.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘How about I do a fry-up and we’ll see?’
‘Okay.’
‘Do you mind if I have a quick shower?’ Sam said.
‘Of course. You don’t need to ask.’
‘And could I borrow some clothes? These probably reek.’
‘Sure, help yourself.’ Hannah snuggled back down. She didn’t want to leave the closest thing she had to a safe cocoon. Sam had bought her some time by wanting to use the shower first.
Hannah sighed at hearing the doorbell. She toyed with ignoring it, but good manners saw her throw back the covers and get out of bed. At least she was already dressed, albeit in yesterday’s clothes …
Auntie Beth stood on the threshold, carrying a carton of eggs and a parcel wrapped in butcher’s paper.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ve woken you up, haven’t I?’
‘No, I was just lying in bed.’ Trying not to face reality. ‘Sam’s in the shower. Come in.’
‘I thought you could do with a decent breakfast,’ Beth said, hurrying past Hannah and through to the kitchen. ‘I know you probably won’t feel like eating, but it is important you at least try.’
‘You’re a gem. Sam had the same idea. But thank goodness you’re here. Just between you and me, Sam’s not quite the cook she thinks she is,’ Hannah whispered and smiled weakly.
Finding Hannah Page 5
