The Artist and Me

by Kay, Hannah;

  Mike took her bottle and sniffed it, groaning. “Oh yeah. Someone spiked it.”

  I shook my head. “Come on, Clara,” I murmured, pulling her arm.

  She frowned, carefully sculpted eyebrows pulling together. “Where are we going?”

  “Home,” I answered, attempting to drag her up the beach.

  She shook her head. “No, Lucas! I wanna stay!” she yelled, trying to pull from my grasp but failing. Her feet slipped from under her, and she hit the ground hard.

  I sighed, stooping down to pick her up. I looked at Mike. “I’ve got to get her home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that I trudged up the beach, carrying my little sister like a drunken rag doll.

  The road was empty. It was long, though. It was a long stretch of dark road and my heart beat hectically. Mom and Dad wouldn’t be happy with me when we got home. I should have had a closer eye on Clara, but instead I’d been wrapped up in myself. I was focusing on my own pity and my own sadness, which was really ridiculous because she didn’t care. Unfortunately my emotions have never had an off switch.

  “Lucassss,” Clara whined from the back seat. “Let’s go back to the party!”

  I shook my head. “No, Clara.”

  “Come on. We never have any fun,” she moaned, thrashing in her seat.

  I turned to look at her suddenly then. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second when she gasped. “What?”

  I saw it in the corner of my eyes. My head swiveled in time to see it coming. Headlights.

  Above, the fireworks started.

  Clara screamed.

  My vision fizzled to black.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Julie

  Sunshine filtered through the living room windows and I flipped over to hide from the harsh light. We were sprawled out on the floor in a hoard of pillows and blankets. The blue light from my father’s old TV illuminated Krista’s face and I exhaled. It was much too like the day at the Getaway House when I’d awoken to Lucas’ slumber in the TV light. I wish it was that simple, but it’s just—

  Buzz buzz.

  Somewhere on the food-cluttered coffee table, my phone vibrated violently. I groaned, dragging myself from the down of pillows to search for it.

  Buzz buzz.

  I reached blindly for the phone and exhaled as my fingers finally crested the cool metal, drawing it into my palm just as it stopped ringing.

  I blinked. Four missed calls from Lucas. We hadn’t so much as spoken since the unthinkable had happened. Why would he choose now to call?

  Buzz.

  It echoed through my skin.

  Buzz.

  “Hello?” I answered quickly, but it sounded choked.

  “Julie, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and Krista for hours.”

  I frowned. That wasn’t Lucas’ voice. “Mike, what’s wrong?”

  There was a beat of silence. “Julie, Lucas had a car accident.”

  Krista stirred beside me.

  My mouth went dry. “Is he okay?” Even as I said it, my lips quivered.

  All I heard was Mike’s heavy breathing.

  Krista’s hand probed the phone from my hands. “Mike, where are you?” My heart thudded loudly in my chest. “Okay, we’ll be there.” She hung up the phone and silence nestled between us.

  “Julie.” Her voice was soft like a kitten’s fur.

  “Yes?” I asked quietly, hands shaking.

  “Don’t worry. He’ll be all right.” Her voice was even and strong, but something told me she was bluffing.

  I stood up. “Let’s go.”

  Krista decided she should drive, and I didn’t disagree. I sat in the passenger seat of her car, legs pulled up to my knees and head pressed against the window. I’m sure I looked awful. I’d thrown on a pair of worn jeans—probably dirty—and a T-shirt without noticing what was on it. I’d tossed my hair into a messy bun and skipped the makeup, hopping into her car before she was even dressed. The cool windowpane was soothing to my now-heated skin as she bounded down the front steps and slammed the door closed behind her, hammering for the car.

  The road was empty of other cars, so she sped down the road toward the hospital on the other side of town. It was small but I assumed it was functional. “If he’s here, it can’t be that bad,” she whispered into the windshield and I wondered if it were for my benefit or hers.

  I let out a shattered breath. “I hope so.”

  She exhaled, glancing over at me to offer a small, weak smile. “He’s got to be.”

  I knew she’d meant it as a joke, but it came out desperate. He was her best friend too.

  “Yeah.” With that, she drove in silence.

  The hospital was eerie blue and white and desolate apart from the nurses in their kaleidoscope-colored scrubs and grim faces. Krista approached the front desk and talked to a perky nurse with blonde hair who pointed down the hall. I followed her hand before Krista could even turn.

  The hallway bottomed out into a waiting room with stiff brown-backed chairs and off-white painted walls and I exhaled when I saw Mike.

  He stood up and scooped me into his arms. His strength was a comfort and he warmed the ice in my veins, but when he pulled away I realized his familiar smile was missing. It turned my stomach, even as his hand squeezed mine. “I’ve missed you, Jules.” His eyes met mine to show his sincerity and a knot formed in my stomach.

  “I missed you too,” I answered, because I had. I’d missed them all and now something terrible and unthinkable could be happening.

  He pulled Krista into a tight hug, framing her body in his firmly. I shuddered out a cry, entire body quaking. Krista looked at Mike, frowning. “Where is he, Mike?”

  “He’s just down the hall but they’re only letting his parents be in there,” he hedged nervously, slumping down into one of the chairs and pinching his nose.

  I frowned, turning to sit beside him. “Mike, where’s Clara?”

  His eyes were tired. “Clara…was in the car.” He didn’t say anything else but he didn’t have to.

  A chill ran down my spine and I rubbed my arms, heart beating steadily in my ears. They were talking about something softly beside me but I couldn’t hear them. Their words were glazed and my mind preoccupied.

  Clara was gone. Lucas’ little sister, who he loved, was dead. He was in a hospital bed, fighting for his life right now. Only God knew if he was winning or losing, and I just couldn’t handle it. My heart felt like it weighed a million pounds in my chest. My feet tapped anxiously against the cruel linoleum.

  “I need coffee,” I mumbled, standing.

  Mike nodded. “I’ll come with you. I’ve been sitting here since one,” he agreed, shepherding me down the hallway. “The cafeteria’s down here.”

  I nodded and we moved in simultaneous silence until I exhaled sharply. “What happened, Mike?” My head hurt like I’d spent all night watching old movies and chick flicks—which I had—but who knew it would all end so catastrophically?

  He sighed. “Lucas and I were at the beach for the party last night.” He paused, piecing together his answer. “Well, I was there. He was distracted.” The word didn’t fit but he couldn’t think of a better one. “Then Clara showed up, completely wasted and carrying around a root beer bottle that someone had obviously spiked.” He sighed, pushing the cafeteria doors open. “Lucas dragged her from the party, kicking and screaming.” He chuckled lifelessly but it almost immediately turned to a frown. “I should have gone with him. I knew he wasn’t all there, even before his drunk sister showed up. I shouldn’t have let him go alone.” I could see in his sad eyes that he’d been thinking about it for eight hours. “Anyway, my mom called me around midnight, freaking out, and I came straight here.”

  I nodded but didn’t comfort him. Somehow I knew that comforting him wouldn’t help.

  “Three coffees, please,” he asked the tired old lady at the cafeteria’s counter.

  I stepped up beside him with a lifted eyebrow. “I thought you didn’t li
ke coffee,” I attempted to joke.

  A weak smile slipped onto his face. “Desperate times.” He handed me a Styrofoam coffee cup and tipped his against mine jokingly. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, squeezing them gently before nodding toward the doors. “Let’s get back.”

  I nodded, taking a silent sip of my coffee as we walked toward the waiting room again. The hallway seemed endless, even in this tiny hospital, but soon I saw the waiting room. My heart sped up at the sight of Lucas’ parents talking to Krista. We jogged then, despite the disapproving glares of the nurses at the nurses’ station.

  “What’s going on?” Mike asked when we surged to a stop beside them.

  “He just woke up,” Lucas’ dad answered.

  The three of us exhaled. “That’s great,” I answered, and his mom looked at me.

  “He’s asking for you.”

  I blinked, biting my lip nervously. “Is he?”

  She nodded, patting my shoulder. “Go on back.”

  It wasn’t an offer.

  The room was dark, lit only by a lamp by the bed. The drapes were pulled shut. I walked slowly toward the bed and my eyes adjusted to the low lighting.

  Perched in the center of the bed with his eyes closed, he was hooked up to a couple of machines and his face was peppered with scratches. I frowned as I approached, noticing a big bruise across his face. My fingers trembled as I gingerly reached out to touch the bruise.

  His eyes opened slowly. “Julie.” His voice was low and harsh.

  “Hey,” I whispered, pulling my hand away. “Does it hurt?” I asked quietly.

  “My bruise?” he asked, shrugging. “No. Not really.”

  I nodded, biting my lip slightly. “Well, that’s good.”

  He chuckled then groaned. “Okay, no laughter.” He looked at me then, smirking slightly. “Julie, why so tense?” he joked, a sly smile on his injured face.

  I shrugged, glancing around restlessly. “I don’t know, Lucas.”

  He sighed, scooting over a little with a pained expression. He patted the mattress. “Sit with me?”

  Silently, I nodded. “Okay.” I climbed beside him, sitting up and nibbling on my bottom lip.

  His eyes studied me carefully. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry.” It came out without my meaning it to, but it was true. I had hurt him and I hated that. But beyond that, I missed him. I was beginning to think I was wrong. Maybe it was real because it wasn’t going away.

  He nodded. “I know you are.” He smiled lovingly at me.

  “I was…confused,” I answered, knowing it was a lame excuse.

  “I know.” He took a long breath. “And now?”

  I turned to look at him, broken and battered from this horrific car accident, and exhaled sharply. “And now I know.”

  “You know what?” he probed gently.

  My eyes met his then. “I know I love you.”

  He sighed, reaching for my hand. “I know you do.” He squeezed my hand feebly and brought it to his lips to kiss. “I love you too.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Lucas

  Time is a funny thing. One day you’re madly in love and the next it could all be gone. One day you could have a plan and the next it could be broken. One day you have a baby sister, the next you don’t. Time passes without allowing us to process, think or move on, and no one cares.

  But sometimes there is time for redemption. A second chance for love and life and while we can’t get back the time lost or the lives lost, we can honor their memory and alter our plans. For love, for laughter, for joy and for sorrow, we can start afresh.

  For that, I am grateful.

  Also available from Finch Books:

  Gabriel’s Angel

  Caroline MacCallum

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “You’re dumped,” Becky said. “Face it, Gabe, when twenty texts a day stop, it can only mean one thing.”

  Gabe knocked back the last mouthful of his can of Coke. He swelled his cheeks with fizz and scowled at the scenery flying past the car window.

  “I mean, not just texts, but letters too. They came right up until four weeks ago and then zilch, nada, nothing, end of.” Becky touched her new nose stud with her index finger. “It’s obvious there’s a new bloke in her life and I’m afraid, Mr. Black, it isn’t you.”

  “You don’t know that,” Gabe muttered. “Besides, I told her we’d be taking over the café at the beginning of September.” He frowned. “I’ve even got art A level to suffer now.”

  “Girls are fickle.” Becky shrugged as if it were common knowledge about her gender. “And you hardly knew her, not really. It was a holiday fling, a week of romance in the spring. She’s probably met loads of new guys over the summer, you know…” Her eyes widened and a wicked grin tugged at her lips. “Surfers—tanned, muscled, charming smiles, sun-kissed hair, all ready to take her out and stun her with daring tales from the sea… How could she resist?”

  Gabe shook his head. Elle had been more than a holiday romance, he was sure of it, and he couldn’t imagine her being swayed by a guy who could balance on a bit of wood skimming over a wave. He rubbed his left temple, which was pounding after the torturous five-hour journey from London. “I just hope we get a chance to speak on the school bus, sort this out before registration. I can’t stand not knowing what’s going on between us.”

  “Oh, you’re so dramatic.” Becky rolled her eyes and smeared her pouting lips with the perfect shade of cherry gloss to complement her raven hair. “But I’m sure it’ll all work out, and if it doesn’t…” She pressed her lips in on themselves as she nodded at the Atlantic Ocean dominating the horizon. “There’s plenty more fish in the sea.”

  Gabe squinted at the sun’s glare bouncing off the water like a shimmering path of diamonds.

  “Really, don’t sweat it,” Becky went on with a shrug. “I’ll help you find her in the morning and if you don’t, well, at least you’ll have me to sit next to until your charm works on another unsuspecting victim.” She rooted in her bag and pulled out a half-eaten packet of Haribo. “I wish I hadn’t spent that holiday being loyal to Greg, what a complete waste of time that was. If I’d known he was messing around with that tart, Cara, whilst we were away, I’d have had some fun of my own with the group of cute boarders hanging about.” She offered Gabe three fried-egg sweets.

  Gabe popped them in his mouth and glowered at the mention of Greg. He’d vehemently disliked the guy Becky had mooned over for nearly a year. He’d treated his sister like a puppy he could give attention to when the mood suited him and the rest of the time keep locked up in the yard. Gabe had kept his temper in check when the loser had finally shown up with a cheap box of chocolates, but only because Becky had begged him to stay cool. It’d been hard, though—holding on to the thin thread of his temper wasn’t Gabe’s strongest point. What he’d really wanted to do was shove the jerk against the wall and tell him where to get off, tell him he was no longer welcome within a mile of his sister. Still, at least the final breakup had made the move to Wales easier for Becky to accept, even though it meant leaving a group of good friends and her beloved drama club.

  “That wasn’t there last time,” Alison, the twins’ mum, spoke up from the front passenger seat.

  “No,” Reg agreed. “It looks pretty recent.”

  Gabe followed his parents’ line of sight. The dark-brown fence running parallel to the clifftop had six brand new sections of timber planking. Pale and anemic, yet to be weathered by wind and rain, they supported a dozen bunches of wilted flowers, tied on with string and wrapped in grubby Cellophane. The flowers were dead, the colors blurred into rusty browns and mossy greens, good for nothing but the compost heap. In the very center, a looping red bow sagged toward the grassy verge, surrounded by an assortment of stuffed animals and a single Welsh flag displaying a wind-ripped red dragon. It was a shrine to some poor soul’s untimely demise over the cliff and everything about it looked gloomy, de
pressing and utterly hopeless.

  “That’s awful,” Becky said, leaning forward to peer more closely as the car crept past.

  Gabe turned the other way. He couldn’t bear to look at the unseeing glass eyes of the stuffed animals, or read the scrawled words of loss attached to the dead flowers. Imagining a trip over the sheer cliff sent a shiver snaking down his spine—the height was immense and the fall severe. He knew without looking that the base was a floor of gnarled rocks, spiked and unforgiving to anyone unlucky enough to land on them.

  “There it is,” Alison said in a lighter voice. “Our fabulous new back garden.”

  A sweeping golden crescent of sand sprang into view between the rust-red cliffs. It was like a treasure island, empty and secluded, just waiting to be discovered.

  “And wow, what a back garden,” Reg said, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. “The whole of Manorbier Bay to enjoy whenever we want, right on our doorstep. Long clifftop walks, picnics, rock pooling, surfing too.” He tilted his head toward the back of the car but kept his eyes on the road. “Hey, Gabe, how’d you fancy us both getting a surfboard and catching some waves together?”

  “I will,” Becky said quickly. “I want to surf, Dad. Can I have a board?”

  “Only so you can check out the local talent.” Gabe tutted. “That’s the only reason you want to learn to surf.”

  “Nothing wrong with that. Got to make new friends somehow, haven’t I?”

  “You certainly do,” Alison agreed. “How about a dog? The city was no place for a pet, but living here we could get a golden retriever or a boxer or something.”

  “It would be a great excuse to walk the coastline.” Reg nodded as he shifted up a gear and headed past the sign reading Manorbier—Croeso. “At least now we’ll have the energy to do something other than work, work, work. We’ll be in control of the hours the café is open in the summer and in the winter we’ll budget and give ourselves a few months completely off. We’ll do nothing except enjoy being together, as a family.”