Where did your heart go? (The Heart Trilogy Book 1)

by Audrina Lane

  Where did your heart go?

  By Audrina Lane

  This book 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.

  Copyright @ Audrina Lane 2013

  Dedication

  I would like to dedicate this book to my fiancé Steve who has allowed me the time and space to write this novel in the first place. I love the way you have put up with my tapping away on the laptop in front of the television or out in the garden.

  Also special thanks to my first boyfriend, you know who you are. You have given me some of the memories that I have drawn on when shaping the lives and feelings of my main characters. Also as my first love, which this book is all about, hope I have faithfully re-created those feelings of being a teenager in love.

  Finally to George Michael, Rick Astley, A-Ha and Berlin amongst many others for the soundtrack that made up my teenage years and got me through the heartbreak and tears.

  Chapter 1

  I had been at home for about an hour when I heard my teenage daughter rush through the front door, tears streaming down her cheeks. I sighed; today was going to be a rough day, despite the lovely winter sun shining through the windows. I heard Charlotte rush up the stairs and then the bedroom door slammed shut above me. Turning I pressed the button on the kettle and made us both cups of hot chocolate as that always used to make the difference when I was younger. Wondering what today’s crisis was I carefully stirred the mixture and then left the warmth of the kitchen.

  Pausing in the hallway I caught sight of the last photograph I had of my husband Mark. It sat next to a photograph of our wedding day and I spotted the far away look in my eyes, a stark comparison to the warmth and love radiating from his. The final picture at the bottom of the stairs was the two of us holding Charlotte as a baby days before he was taken from us. His kind sensitive eyes watched me as I carefully climbed the stairs and knocked on the door of her room.

  “Charlotte, are you ok?”

  “Go away Mum” I heard her sob

  “Afraid I can’t go away as I’m holding a large cup of hot chocolate for you” I waited silently for a few minutes as I listened to her sobbing into her pillow. After a few minutes I heard the sobs subside and slowly the door opened and a tear stained face with puffy eyes looked up at me.

  “Can I come in?” I asked

  “Suppose” she replied, grudgingly.

  I settled on her dressing table stool. Charlotte took her mug and cradling it in her cupped hands sat back down on the bed, sweeping a deluge of tissues onto the floor. I resisted the urge to immediately clear them up into the bin.

  “Is there something up with Craig?” I enquired, carefully.

  “Yeah, he’s just dumped me” Charlie whispered.

  “His loss” I replied. I hadn’t liked him much on the couple of occasions when he had been over to the house. The news did not make me unhappy.

  “Guess” Charlotte mumbled before the tears started to slide down her cheeks again. I handed her another tissue and sat silently as she sobbed.

  “Mum, why does it hurt so much?” she mumbled. I stood up and closed the gap between us. I gently enfolded her into my arms and sat down beside her on the bed.

  “Because breaking up is painful. I’m not going to lie to you. Unfortunately you may go through it a few more times before you meet the right guy for you”

  “How do you know Mum, perhaps I might never meet him?”

  “Yes, I thought that too when I was your age, but I got through it eventually. A broken heart can take a long time to heal” I said, looking away from my daughter’s enquiring gaze. I didn’t want her to spot the look of dark despair that clouded my eyes as I was transported back to November 1988 and the day my life ended.

  “Craig was perfect, he’s so gorgeous and wonderful and now it seems I’m not enough for him any more” she mourned.

  “Perhaps he is, or was and perhaps I can give you something that might help you to get through this” I said, as I remembered the diary I had found a few months ago. They were all that remained of my first love affair. Except for a single photograph that I guessed if I searched for it I would also find in the attic. I paused and my hand reached up to my neck where a chain used to lie. I had worn the St Christopher for a while but it was now safely wrapped up in my jewellery box.

  “What, Mum?”

  “Wait here a moment as I will have to go and look for it”

  “Ok” she replied as she reached for her phone and started to tap out a text to her best friend Julia.

  I withdrew from her room and crossed the hallway to the small box room that doubled as my office. On the way I subconsciously rubbed my scar, faded now, but forever a reminder of my past. I quickly went across to my desk and opened the bottom drawer and after pulling out numerous bills and other rubbish I found what I was looking for. The faded cover of my purple diary dated 1988, the corners were bent out of shape and the lock had long since broken. I carefully opened it up to see my neat handwriting on the inside cover saying this book belongs to: Stephanie March. Surrounding this was numerous hearts and flower doodles. Inside the hearts were the initials SM 4 JC.

  Gently I opened the first few pages and skimmed over my childish script, it made me smile as I found myself being drawn back to my teenage years. I still didn’t understand why I had carefully kept this through the years but perhaps this day was the reason. All I could do was hope that it would help my beautiful, heartbroken daughter to cope with her first break up. Kneeling on the floor of my office the memories from the past swirled around in my mind, engulfing me with both intense happiness and devastating despair. Was it the right thing to do to show my daughter that love could be wonderful and magical but also destructive and deadly?

  I walked back across the hall way and was partly calmed to see Charlotte lounging back against her pillow, phone in hand. She was undoubtedly my daughter with her fair skin colouring. But looking more closely I could see the features that she had inherited from her father, Mark. She had his blond hair and green eyes which I could only just make out against the red, puffy skin that surrounded them.

  “What’s that?” she asked curiously.

  “It’s my diary from when I was a little younger than you are now. It will tell you the story of my first romance and break up and I hope it might help you through yours”

  “Wow, Mum, you’ve kept this all these years?”

  “Yes, I’m not sure why but every time I tried to throw it away something stopped me” I said, remembering then how James had thrown my heart away. I turned away from my daughter as I was reminded of the fear and pain I felt as James walked away. He had taken my heart with him and left a hollow space inside me that still ached for him.

  Charlotte waited for me to leave the room before peeling back the front cover of my diary and starting to read the first few entries. I headed back downstairs to the comfort and warmth of the kitchen. Leaning against the island counter I breathed in and out for a few minutes. Pulling open the junk drawer I rummaged around and found a couple of my anti-depressants as I could feel the darkness starting to creep over me once more. I had been dealing with this feeling for the last twenty four years. I took them and swilled them down with the remains of my hot chocolate as I crossed the tiles and found my favourite chair in the conservatory. An open book lay on the table beside me and the radio was nearby so I turned that on for company.

  I worked for the local radio station as a DJ so it was always tuned it to t
hat frequency. Occasionally I would find Radio 1 on if Charlie had been messing around but most of the time she enjoyed listening to the older tracks. She had been bought up on a diet of music, as my life had always revolved around it and my work certainly did. It seemed to be an afternoon of memories as dusk started to creep over the ice blue sky. I thought of all the times as a child she had danced around the kitchen. I would often join in and I soon realised that she had some talent for performing. She had loved ballet lessons and also did some gymnastics too. At college she was in a dance group mixing a fusion of street, gymnastics and ballet together and I was always eager to see them perform.

  As my dark mood slowly passed I went back to the cooker and started to prepare some tea, not sure whether Charlotte would be joining me or not. At least it kept me busy in the meantime and took my mind away from the images that had started to seep in.

  Chapter 2

  Friday 1st January, 1988.

  As it’s the first day of the year I’m going to make some New Year resolutions that will improve my life. I have had a wonderful Christmas with my family and friends. Sarah and I went to June’s house for a party last night and I danced so much that my feet are still aching now. I paused and relived the beat of the music as we sang and danced together. One of the guys invited had kissed me on the cheek at midnight but I didn’t really fancy him so it didn’t go any further than that.

  I lay back against the pillows on my bed and listened to my favourite George Michael album as I chewed the end of my pen. I wanted to pass my exams so that was my first resolution. I wanted to study media and become a DJ on the radio; that was my dream ambition. Some of my friends had managed to get Saturday jobs so that was my second one.

  Pausing I listened to George singing about Sex. I was going to be seventeen in a couple of months and I wondered if I would ever be lucky enough to find a boyfriend, someone I could love. Jumping off my bed I crossed to my mirror and stared critically at my reflection. I had auburn hair that was curly most of the time and sometimes difficult to control. My pale skin was scattered by freckles that had faded during the colder winter weather but they would be back in view when the sunshine returned. I ran my hands over my slim curves, wishing that my breasts were larger as that always seemed to be what boys looked at first.

  My new velvet jeans hugged my shapely legs that I knew were my best feature. Dad was always saying that they stretched right up to my armpits. It was a funny comment and always made me laugh. So although it wasn’t really a resolution I hoped that this year would bring love into my life. Finally I turned to look at my ever expanding bookshelves and decided that I would read more books. I spotted the newest book on my shelf and pulled it off as there was no better time than the present to start. I opened the first page of the book ‘Carrie’ by Stephen King. Mum and Dad had given it to me for Christmas as they knew he was one of my favourite authors. I put my diary aside and settled down to some reading instead.

  Saturday 2nd January, 1988.

  Sarah phoned me and asked if I wanted to go swimming in the pool as she needed to get fit. I agreed as it would also be good to get together for a gossip before school started again.

  As we entered the pool area I almost stopped in my tracks for sitting on the Life guard chair at the deep end of the pool was the most gorgeous guy I had ever laid eyes on. I caught Sarah’s arm and whispered to her

  “Look at the life guard, he’s gorgeous”

  “Well yeah he’s ok I suppose, not really my type” Sarah replied as we walked half way up the pool side and I dived in.

  Surfacing I swam back to the side and waited for Sarah to take the more leisurely route of slipping into the water. We started to swim a couple of lengths together, stopping at each end to gossip and catch our breath. All the time I was surreptitiously checking out the life guard as he monitored the pool.

  “I’m going to dive” I said to Sarah, before I swam across the pool and got out to saunter towards the diving board. Inside I felt the nerves start to kick in as butterflies started to beat against my ribs. Standing on the end of the board I could almost feel his eyes watching me. Walking towards the end I jumped and executed the best dive of my life.

  Swimming over to Sarah I grabbed the side

  “He was definitely watching you” she said

  “Well, of course he was it’s his job to do that”

  “No, I mean really watching” she finished “perhaps he likes you?” she finished.

  “Doubt it, he looks about nineteen or twenty, guys that age rarely ever like sixteen year olds” I moaned. We pushed away from the side and swam a couple more lengths together. In my mind I could see him in his shorts and t-shirt. He was quite tall, I guessed about 6ft and was slim but I could imagine the muscles hidden from view. He had blond hair cut short and blue eyes which reflected the colour of the pool. I watched as he jumped down off his chair and started to walk a lap around the edge. Carefully watching all the swimmers and ensuring they were safe in the water. I certainly felt safe under his gaze as Sarah and I continued to swim some more lengths.

  Getting out of the water after about an hour we started to get dried and dressed, chatting together over the top of the cubicle walls. Walking back home we continued to talk about boys, neither of us were in the popular group of girls that already had boyfriends in our year at school. Parting at the end of her road I finished the journey alone as my mind wandered back to the mystery life guard. I made up my mind that I had to see him again and perhaps be brave enough to talk to him. Once home I spent some time with Mum and Dad before I headed to my room. Putting some music on I got into bed and lay back against the pillows and read some more of my book. All the while the words seemed to dance across the page as I thought about the afternoon.

  Sunday 3rd January, 1988.

  I spent the day tidying my room and getting my bag and stuff ready for the start of school again tomorrow. I put my Wham album on the stereo and danced around the room whilst I gathered everything together. As I listened to the melodic voice of George he sang about staying home instead of going out dancing. I would gladly stay home with George I thought. I stared across at all the posters of him I had plastered over my walls, looking young and gorgeous in his white shorts and “Choose Life” T-Shirt. Then some slightly newer photo’s of him in a leather jacket, stubble on his chin.

  I also thought about the guy at the swimming pool, still a mystery with no name. He didn’t look anything like George but as I pictured him I felt my heart start to beat slightly faster in my chest. Was this the beginnings of a crush? I knew that I needed to know more about him, even though I was sure that I would be too young for him, or that he would already have a girlfriend.

  Monday 4th January, 1988.

  As I hurried to meet Sarah at the corner of the street I could see her waiting with our other friends June and Amanda.

  “Hi girls” I said, as I fell into step with them.

  “Hi Steph, are you ready for study, study and more study” June asked.

  “Not really but I guess we need too” I replied, putting my arm through Sarah’s.

  “So Sarah says you have a crush on a lifeguard at the pool” Amanda said, turning to look at me. I blushed and reached out to give her a playful punch.

  “Maybe” I replied.

  “Well you know Gareth really likes you” June said. She had named the guy who had kissed me on the cheek at midnight.

  “He’s not really my type” I replied. In my head I could see my type; it was the guy at the pool.

  As the day passed I couldn’t get over the amount of work each teacher was piling onto us. All with the same message that we needed to work hard to pass our exams. In English I settled down to study “Anthony and Cleopatra” by Shakespeare. So far it seems to be a better story in comparison to “Romeo and Juliet” which was ok but a bit daft in places. Who could possibly want to kill themselves to be with the one they loved? Mr Saunders did a quick poll round the room of what we had all be reading
over the Christmas break but I was quick to remember that he hated Stephen King so I didn’t mention “Carrie” when it was my turn.

  Walking home in the afternoon I could hear the conversation surrounding me but I kept drifting off into my fantasy world. I have decided that I will go swimming tomorrow night, on my own. Hoping that if I am alone and he is there then he might speak to me?

  Tuesday 5th January, 1988.

  Hurrying home from school I hugged my secret plan close to my heart. I noticed Sarah giving me a strange look as we said goodbye at the end of her street as usual.

  “Is everything ok?” she asked.

  “Yes, I’ll tell you tomorrow” I replied as I walked until I was out of sight. Then I ran the short distance home so that I had enough time to get ready. I told Mum and Dad that I was going to the pool with Sarah as I didn’t want to have to explain why I was going on my own. In my bag I had packed my favourite bikini instead of my swimsuit, hoping that this would make an impression on him. Well that was if he was actually there this evening, it was all a bit of a gamble. I walked along in the dusk as the streetlights lit the way through town to the pool.

  Crossing the car park I started to feel nervous and I nearly turned around and went home again. But it felt as if something was calling me inside, tugging at me to take the chance. Once inside the familiar surroundings I got changed and then headed onto poolside. I spotted him at the far end of the pool, walking around so I quickly slipped into the water. The nerves were making my heart pound as I started to swim my first couple of lengths. After swimming about ten lengths I stopped at the deep end and took stock of the situation. I spotted him heading back up to my end of the pool and I could already feel the butterflies starting to flutter in my stomach and chest.