The Life You Left

by Carmel Harrington

  Contents

  Carmel Harrington

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty One

  Chapter Thirty Two

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Beyond Grace’s Rainbow

  About HarperImpulse

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Carmel Harrington

  With her husband Roger and two beautiful children Amelia and Nate, Carmel Harrington lives a pretty idyllic life in Ireland, full of stories, songs, hide and seek, Mickey Mouse, walks on the beach, tickles, kisses, chocolate treats and, most of all, abundant love. To make life even more perfect, she has now fulfilled a lifetime ambition to be a writer as she is both a published author and a playwright. Her debut novel, Beyond Grace’s Rainbow, was awarded Romantic eBook of the Year 2013 at the Festival of Romantic Fiction and Kindle Book of the Year 2013 with the Peoples Book Awards.

  Carmel has also written features for The Irish Independent, The Daily Mail, The Evening Herald and Womans Way.

  For more information on Carmel, her writing, books and events, follow her on Twitter @happymrsh, join her on Facebook.com/happymrsh or visit her blog http://carmelharrington.com/.

  This book is dedicated to my parents, Christina and Michael O’Grady.

  They taught me how powerful words can be - both in written and oral form.

  When I was a little girl, my mother introduced me to the magical world of libraries, and always read to us until we could do so ourselves. I have no doubt in my mind that my vivid imagination comes directly from my father, who is one in a long line of Irish storytellers. To this day he can tell a story like no other I know. For their love and support this book is for them.

  I always say that I couldn’t do this, nor would I want to do this, without my husband Roger. His unfaltering belief in me sustains me and along with my children, Amelia and Nate, and my stepdaughter Eva, I am reminded every day how lucky I am to both love and be loved.

  Thank you also to my mother-in-law Evelyn Harrington, who can always make me smile when she posts a letter to me, addressing it grandly to ‘Carmel Harrington, Author & Playwright’ and my siblings, Fiona & Michael, John & Fiona, Michelle & Anthony, Adrienne & George, Evelyn & Seamus and Leah, and all the nieces and nephews, Sheryl, Amy, Louis, Patrick & Matilda, who make our family wonderfully crazy and quite perfect!

  To all my friends, I know how lucky I am to have you. I have too many to list, but special mention must be made to Tanya and Annie who helped with the early edits of The Life You Left. And Annie, my oldest friend, thanks for being ‘my person.’

  Special thanks to all at Harper Impulse, Harper Collins and Harper 360, who work Trojan hours for their authors and I’m blessed to be one of them. I’d like to give a special mention to my editor Charlotte Ledger and Publishing Director Kimberly Young, who rumour has it, don’t sleep! I appreciate all the time you have given me and will always be grateful for your belief in me and know that I am in safe hands with you both. To my agent Tracy Brennan, of Trace Literary Agency, thank you for not only taking such good care of me, but for your friendship too. I look forward to many more ‘Thelma & Louise’ moments over the years.

  A few months ago I ran a competition and the winner – Michelle McGuirk – won the chance to have a character in #TLYL named after her. I gave her the choice of whether she would like to be a goody or a baddie and I love that she chose to be bad to the bone! I hope you enjoy reading your namesake Michelle, it was a lot of fun writing her!

  Finally, my last words here go to friends, readers & book reviewers who are all such loyal supporters of me and and my writing. Because of all of you, I get to follow my dream and I’ll always be grateful.

  Prologue

  Ballyaislinn, Co. Wexford

 
  To: sarahlawlor0902@yahoo.ie

  From: paul.lawlor@cgqh.ie

  Subject: Sorry

  Sarah, I’m not coming home tonight. Don’t try to find me or call my office, I’m taking some time out to get my head sorted. If I don’t get away, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

  If you love me, you will give me the space I need.

  Tell the children I love them and I’ll be in touch when I can.

  Paul

  Sarah blinked back tears, confused and disorientated by the email she had just opened. She didn’t understand. Those meagre sentences made absolutely no sense to her and mocked her by their cruelty.

  She struggled to let the words sink in but no matter how many times she re-read the email, she could not fathom what was happening. She quickly hit re-dial on her husband’s mobile, knowing that it was a futile exercise. Yes, damn it, still going to voicemail. She checked the time; it was getting close to 10pm. She hadn’t worried at first when Paul didn’t appear home for dinner. She figured that he had a late meeting and had forgotten to tell her about it. But by 8pm she was worried and started to call him. His phone kept repeating the same infuriating message.

  She ran through the mornings events once again in her mind. Paul had gotten up for work at his usual time, showered and dressed himself, whilst she got the children ready for school. Mornings were always frantic in their house with Sarah making the children their breakfast and school lunches and then dressing them in their uniforms. At some point in the mayhem, Paul would leave for the office, with a quick goodbye kiss for them all if they were lucky.

  She supposed he had been quiet this morning, she didn’t recall him saying one word to her really, but then again he rarely did these days. She felt scared once again. What had she missed? Their lives had become so frantic – Sarah with the three children and Paul with work, it often felt like they were ships that passed in the night.

  A flash of guilt overwhelmed her, almost suffocating her. How could she have been so blind to her husband’s distress? Had they drifted so far apart that she, his wife, would not notice her husband falling apart at the seams? So bad that he was having a breakdown of such magnitude that he needed to stay away from his family. An image of Paul in a psych ward popped into her head and she reeled from it, as it evoked a memory so painful it pierced her heart. She quickly threw that image from her mind and went back to this morning. Had he seemed any different when he kissed them all goodbye? She tried to be objective but no matter how much analysis she gave to their humdrum movements, she couldn’t pinpoint anything that should have alerted her to this email.

  Paul had been his usual slightly moody self but nothing new there. Her stomach started to flip again and she started to pace the living room floor, feeling that somehow or other she was to blame for all of this.

  She pondered his request that she not try to find him, but d
ecided that it was impossible to obey. She had to at least try to talk to him, so she began ringing likely candidates that he might have confided in. She started with the obvious, his mother Rita.

  ‘Sarah here. Is Paul with you?’

  ‘No, I haven’t seen Paul since last Sunday when you all came for lunch.’ Rita replied. ‘What’s wrong?’

  Sarah wasn’t sure how to answer that. She glanced at the email again and quickly decided it wasn’t fair to worry Rita – yet.

  ‘He’s not home, that’s all.’ Sarah replied, trying hard to disguise her anguish. ‘Just a bit worried, as he’s not normally this late. I thought he might have popped into you on his way home. I’m sure he’ll walk in the door any minute.’

  She could hear Rita sigh with relief in response. ‘Course he will love. Sure, Paul has always been a workaholic. He’s probably on his way home right now.’

  Sarah doubted that. A feeling of foreboding overcame her and somehow or other she knew life was never going to be the same again.

  Chapter One

  ‘Time for the big finale,’ James thought to himself. With a dramatic sigh he put his hand over his face and said, ‘and as the sun set, I held her in my arms and she died. I just feel honoured that I was with her when she breathed her last breath. And maybe in some small way I gave her some comfort at the end.’

  He wiped an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye and sneaked a peak at his date. Had he overdone it this time? Maybe the tears were too much. Nope, hang on; she had bought his story, hook, line and sinker.

  ‘God she is beautiful,’ James thought.

  She stifled back a sob and leaned in close to James. ‘Oh James,’ She whispered, ‘You were so brave.’ She then touched him on his leg and he knew he’d be getting lucky tonight. Result! The hero story never failed him.

  His date was clearly mesmerised by him. At 6′2 with blonde wavy hair, worn slightly long, James had always had plenty of attention. His blue eyes normally sparkled with mischief but sometimes would show hints of hidden depths that made women desperate to be the one to unlock their secrets. He was one of those lucky people that were born with a natural charisma that attracted both men and women. Men wanted to be his friend and women in the main had more than friendship on their minds when they met him.

  The sound of his mobile phone blaring out Eliza Doolittle’s Pack Up interrupted his daydream of how the night was likely to end. Glancing at the handset, he saw that it was Sarah. He ignored the phone and said to the blonde, ‘Let them leave a message, nothing is more important than this, right now, with you.’ She really seemed to like the cheesy lines. She was practically purring – some girls were just too easy to play.

  Momentarily he felt a wave of guilt assuage him. He knew that after a few dates he wouldn’t be interested in seeing her again. He just wanted some fun and had no intention of settling down with anyone, just yet. He’d grown up in a house with parents who at best were polite to each other, but on a daily basis made it quite obvious that whatever love had drawn them towards each other at the beginning had long since died. In his career as a private detective, he’d also seen more unfaithful marriages than he’d had chicken curries. From his experience there weren’t very many happy ever afters anymore, any excuse and one or the other of the couple was jumping into bed with someone else.

  And what about his sister, Sarah? Sure he’d watched her fall apart these past few weeks since Paul had done his vanishing act.

  What he wouldn’t give for five minutes with that man!

  A hand gently touching his shoulder brought him back to his present situation and the hot blonde seated in front of him. He brushed aside any guilt he may have felt; after all they were both adults and he never promised any of the girls he dated anything more than they got. He had a firm rule that he always detangled himself before the fourth date. In his experience it was after this dating milestone that most girls started humming the wedding march.

  He could see Sarah’s disapproving face in his mind’s eye and once again felt a slight twinge of guilt. But one look at his date’s long bronzed legs and that guilt disappeared. He was just about to make a suggestion of a nightcap back at his house when his phone beeped with a new text message. It was Sarah again. He clicked open the message on his phone. Two words glared back at him.

  Edward’s back.

  This was bad. Even though Sarah had not mentioned Edward in years, James knew immediately to whom she was referring. The aftermath of Edwardgate still left a mark on both of them.

  ‘Sorry, I’ve got to go.’ James leaned in with genuine regret and kissed the blonde on the cheek, slightly amused by the look of astonishment on her face.

  James could see his date beginning to panic at the sudden realisation that James really was leaving. He smiled at her with genuine regret, she did seem like a nice girl, but he was needed at Sarah’s and that came first.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ She asked.

  ‘Edward’s back.’ James replied.

  ‘Edward?’ She asked puzzled. ‘Who’s Edward?’

  ‘Trouble, that’s who Edward is, a whole lot of trouble.’ James replied and with that ran to his car, texting Sarah as he went that he was on his way.

  Chapter Two

  ‘OK kids, bedtime,’ Sarah said to her children. ‘You’ve already had an extra five minutes, Tommy, so don’t even think about asking for any more!’

  Tommy made a face; he had just been about to ask for more time, how did his mother do that? She always seemed to know what he was about to say before he opened his mouth. At 8 years old, Tommy was already a heartbreaker; big brown eyes with a mop of brown curly hair. He was the image of his Daddy, getting more like him every day. Her son was a bundle of mischief, with unlimited energy that always amazed his parents. He never sat still for even a second. Lately though, he was a lot quieter than normal. Sarah knew that he missed having his Daddy around; she could see the effect of Paul’s absence on Tommy’s face more than with her two girls.

  Ruffling his hair, she gently guided him to the door where Katie was already waiting for them, a mock stern frown on her little face as she confronted her big brother.

  ‘Come on Tommy. We did promise Mammy we’d go to bed in five minutes.’ This was said in a voice that sounded very like her own, Sarah realised with a smile. Her little girl had always been her shadow, mimicking her. She sometimes felt sorry for Tommy as he often had two Mammy’s to deal with, but he seemed amused rather than irritated by his sisters stance. At seven, one year younger than Tommy, Sarah marvelled at how grown up her little girl had become. If Tommy was the image of his Daddy, then Katie was a miniature version of her. Both Sarah and Katie had straight, thick sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and sallow skin. Sarah said a quick prayer that Katie wouldn’t inherit her big hips and thighs too. She’d always hoped that Paul’s fast metabolism and ability to never to put on an ounce of fat would be bestowed on all of her children, rather than her own ‘glance at an éclair and go up 2lbs’ one. Time would tell.

  ‘Teeth, face, hands, you know the drill,’ Sarah said gently to them both as they walked up to their bedroom. ‘I’ll be there in five minutes to read your bedtime story.’

  While Tommy and Katie got ready for bed, Sarah went to check on Ella, her eight month old baby daughter. She felt her heart contract with emotion as she gazed down at her little angel fast asleep. As normal, she had managed to do a full 180 degree spin and was at the bottom of the cot pressed right to the edge. Sarah gently moved her back to the middle, caressing her baby’s cheek as she whispered to her, ‘Mammy loves you Ella, always remember that.’ Ella was dark and looked just like Tommy did at that age, already with masses of dark curly hair framing perfect round little cheeks and a rose bud mouth. Not for the first time Sarah wondered how on earth Paul could stay away from his children? Surely, no matter what was going on with him, being with his family, his children should be the best place to be? How could he just leave this life behind? Creeping away carefully avoidin
g the creaky floorboard in the middle of the floor, she walked next door to read the children their bed time story.

  ‘Right, where are we kids? Did we stop on Chapter five last night?’ Sarah asked picking up the storybook.

  ‘Yes, Chapter five Mammy! Start it quickly!’ Katie squealed, excitement flushing her face. Sarah was reading the Roald Dahl classic Charlie and the Chocolate Factory every night. She would read them one chapter per night and on a Saturday and Sunday night they got two chapters. It was one of the first books that Sarah had read as a child by herself and she loved reliving the excitement of Charlie Bucket and Willie Wonka with her own children now. The chocolate factory and the golden ticket had been an escape for Sarah as a child, when things were out of control and scary. Her parents disapproving faces flashed into her mind, but she quickly pushed that image away and started to read.