The Darkness Within

by Cathy Glass

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Jacob was in a different room but the same ward and hospital as before. Many of the nurses were the same too; transplant centres tended to keep their specialist nurses. They’d begun joking with him as soon as he was out of intensive care and off the danger list – ‘Couldn’t keep away from us, could you?’ ‘You must like it here.’ And now he was beginning to feel a bit better he could laugh and joke with them too, as well as thanking them and the doctors for all they were doing.

  ‘I’m so grateful,’ he said whenever he had the chance. ‘I promise I won’t mess up this time.’ For most of the staff knew that had he gone for his regular check-ups the infection that had caused his heart to reject would have been picked up sooner and treated.

  Jacob couldn’t believe his good fortune; not many got the second chance of a transplant when the first failed. He was aware many patients died while on the transplant list waiting for a suitable organ. It was his lucky break, and doubtless the prayers of his parents and the whole village had helped. True, the organ wasn’t as perfect a match as the first one. It had come from a 44-year-old woman who’d died of a brain tumour. The doctors had said that while they were as confident as they could be that her cancer hadn’t spread to other parts of her body they had a duty to tell him as cancer cells could be transplanted with an organ. At the time he’d been too ill to make the decision and was now grateful to his parents for deciding to go ahead, for without this new heart he would certainly have been dead by now. They visited most days and he appreciated the huge sacrifices they were having to make while he was so ill.

  Get-well cards festooned every available surface in his room and a large helium ‘get well soon’ balloon was tethered to a chair in one corner. Before it was anchored down it had wandered around in the air from the opening and closing door, giving the appearance of someone being in the room if he caught sight of it out of the corner of his eye. It had given him a shock and frightened him, especially at night when it lurked menacingly in the shadows, so he’d asked a nurse to tie it to the chair.

  It was a pity he couldn’t tie down his thoughts in the same way. They were strange thoughts, dreams, hallucinations, which the doctor had reassured him were due to the high level of medication he was on. They would gradually ease and disappear, he said. But it was unsettling to see and hear things so real he was convinced they had actually happened, and indeed some of them had, which made it more confusing. Illogical, out of character situations that made no sense at all. Why, for example, had he split from Eloise and gone to live with Rosie, whom he hardly knew? When he’d asked his mother she’d become evasive and had changed the subject. When he’d said he was thinking of phoning Eloise to try to patch things up she’d said, ‘No! Definitely not. And don’t try to contact Rosie either.’ She’d been so adamant and fervent that he hadn’t liked to question her further. She said she’d explain more when he was completely better, and also possibly introduce him to someone called David who could help him come to terms with ‘what had happened’. Meanwhile his father, pragmatic as usual, had said he was just pleased to have his son back and to concentrate on getting better and look to the future.

  Easier said than done, Jacob thought. Alone in his room when his visitors had gone, he couldn’t stop his thoughts wandering and some of them were disturbing. On the day he learnt that Mary Hutchins, had died, he’d been convinced her death was his fault. That he’d gone to her cottage in the middle of the night and had hit her over the head with a candlestick. It was so vivid and real he couldn’t get the thought out of his head and had eventually told his mother. She’d reassured him that Mary had died as a result of a fall, although there’d been some speculation in the village at the time that her cottage had been broken into and she’d been robbed, but that had never been proven. As his mother had said, he would have known this, and the drugs had fuelled his imagination. It would be better once the medication was reduced and he was home again. Relieved, he’d seen she was right. He was looking forward to going home, his mother’s cooking, taking Mitsy for walks, and eating a big bowl of chocolate-chip ice cream. She’d laughed at this and promised to buy some in specially as he’d never liked ice cream before; that and the Earl Grey tea he was also asking for. Tastes can change, she’d said.

  Epilogue

  Summer turned to autumn. The leaves changed colour and fell from the trees in the wind that whipped around Maybury village. Brian Roberts, whose family had been farming the land next to Acorn Cottage for generations, was on his tractor ploughing the field ready to plant wheat as he did every year. The soil was perfect for ploughing, moist but not waterlogged. He hummed a tune to himself as he went up and down the field, the old 500 hp diesel engine chugging happily, and a flock of birds in his wake. He was making good time and would be finished soon and home for lunch. As he slowed to pull round the top end of the field and make another turn he caught sight of something glinting in the hedgerow. Something large enough to pique his interest. A metal can? He didn’t think so. Wrong shape.

  He drew the tractor to a halt and applied the handbrake. Leaving the engine running he jumped down and trod over the freshly turned earth to the grassy verge for a closer look. A silver candlestick, half covered by grass and leaves. He picked it up and brushed off the dirt and detritus of autumn. Was it worth anything? Probably only to its owner. It clearly hadn’t been here for very long as it was only partly tarnished. He turned it over, wiping away the dirt, and an inscription appeared. He rubbed it on his fleece. To Mr and Mrs Hutchins on your wedding day. 6th May, 1944.

  Mary Hutchins. It had been a wedding present to her and her husband all those years ago. But how on earth did it get here and what should he do with it? When she’d died she’d left no surviving relatives and had bequeathed all her possessions to the church. He couldn’t just throw it back in the hedgerow now he’d found it, and neither did he feel comfortable keeping it. Perhaps he should take it to a charity shop as they’d done with all the other items from her cottage that couldn’t be auctioned. Or perhaps he should take it to the rectory and give it to Andrew? Yes, that would be like fulfilling her wishes of leaving her possessions to the church, and Andrew would know what to do with it. He returned to his tractor and placed the candlestick in the storage compartment next to his flask. But on the other hand, a while ago now there’d been a lot of talk about Acorn Cottage being broken into and money stolen. Had a candlestick been stolen too? He couldn’t remember it ever being mentioned, and Mary had died soon after returning home from hospital. Perhaps he should take it into the police station next time he was in town? Yes, that seemed the best course of action. He’d do it as soon as he could.

  Author’s note

  While this story is fiction, I find the subject matter of cellular memory fascinating, and also the fact that so many people experience inexplicable personality changes after a transplant.

  To learn more about Lisa Stone and her books please visit www.lisastonebooks.co.uk

  Suggested topics for reading group discussion

  The opening chapters of The Darkness Within are from Shane’s perspective. What do we learn about Rosie and how much of this could be said to be true?

  Later when history repeats itself and Rosie is blaming herself for forming another abusive relationship, Eva says there is nothing wrong with her other than she is ‘too trusting’. How far do you think this is true?

  Transplanting organs has become commonplace. What are the ethical dilemmas? Are these increased if we accept the cellular memory theory?

  Setting aside cellular memory being responsible, why might Rosie have been attracted to Jacob? Is there anything in his manner or conversation that should have alerted her sooner?

  The author juxtaposes Jacob’s decline into depravity with life at the rectory. How far are his parents prepared to go to make allowances for him? Is this reasonable?

  Is there anything his parents could have done differently to prevent Jacob’s decline?

 
; Elizabeth is devastated by Eloise’s claims but believes her. Why?

  If we accept cellular memory exists in humans, as it does in plants and lower life forms, then it throws into question our uniqueness as individuals. Discuss.

  When Elizabeth realizes why Jacob is behaving as he is, she goes to Rosie’s flat. Discuss possible outcomes if Jacob hadn’t collapsed when he had.

  When Jacob is recovering in hospital after his second transplant he experiences strange thoughts and dreams. What might they be traced to? Why is Elizabeth adamant he must not contact either Rosie or Eloise?

  When DC Pamela Small is reviewing the evidence in Chez’s death near the end of the book she says: ‘For a while they thought they might have one decent fingerprint, on the metal buckle of Cambridge’s belt, but when they’d run it through the police computer it had come out as a match for Shane Smith who’d died in a car accident the year before. So either the belt had once belonged to Shane or he’d come into contact with it at some time before he’d died, or the fingerprint had been smudged after all, for not even identical twins had the same fingerprint.’ Why is she wrong? Could the real explanation ever be proven?

  Acknowledgements

  A big thank you to my editor, Phoebe; my literary agent, Andrew; my copy-editor, Alice Wood, and all the team at Avon, HarperCollins.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Lisa Stone lives in England and has three children. She has always been a writer from when she was at school, with her poems and articles featured in the school magazine. In her teens she began writing short stories, a few radio plays and novels. She finally made it into the bestseller charts with Damaged in 2007 which she wrote under the pseudonym Cathy Glass. Since then she has had 27 books published, many of which have become international bestsellers.

  CATHY GLASS BOOKS

  Damaged

  Hidden

  Cut

  The Saddest Girl in the World

  Happy Kids

  The Girl in the Mirror

  I Miss Mummy

  Mummy Told Me Not to Tell

  My Dad’s a Policeman (a Quick Reads novel)

  Run, Mummy, Run

  The Night the Angels Came

  Happy Adults

  A Baby’s Cry

  Happy Mealtimes for Kids

  Another Forgotten Child

  Please Don’t Take My Baby

  Will You Love Me?

  About Writing and How to Publish

  Daddy’s Little Princess

  The Child Bride

  Saving Danny

  Girl Alone

  The Silent Cry

  Can I Let You Go?

  Nobody’s Son

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