Don't Look Back (31 page)

I couldn't walk through fire; it would be impossible. Even if this wasn't real, like the other times, and my body remained unscathed, I would still feel the pain. And what if Patrick was right and this was a trick? I hadn't yet seen James with my own eyes.

‘You have to believe you can do it, Sinead. Concentrate your mind. There's nothing to fear.'

My breath was a series of violent gasps, my mind a fog of doubt. Patrick claimed I belonged in this place. Why try to fight it? I'd been following him for so long. Something caught my eye – a moving speck of white in the dark tunnel. I looked up and saw a feather twirling and spinning in the air until it landed on my shoulder, soft and velvety against my neck. I felt an immediate surge of strength. With my eyes tightly closed, the flames still flickering in my consciousness, I took a step forward.

The fire was so close now that my eyebrows were singed and the skin on my face felt like it was peeling; closer again and there were embers in my hair making it sizzle and filling my throat with the smell of sulphur. I reached a shaking hand into the wall of flames, but the searing heat actually turned my body to ice until I was numb all over. My eyes didn't open as my whole body passed through
the furnace. There wasn't even a wisp of smoke from my clothes, although I patted myself down furiously.

When I dared to open one eye I still couldn't see James, though I could still hear his voice, now coming from behind me.

‘Make your way to the entrance. Whatever you do, don't look back.'

Obediently I began walking. I wouldn't turn around. No matter how badly I wanted to see him again, I wouldn't turn around. My head felt as if it was being twisted on my neck like a corkscrew by an unseen force as I struggled to keep looking ahead. James was so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his body through my clothes, his breath on my neck. If I stretched out my hand I could touch him; if I turned my head fractionally I might sneak a tiny glimpse of him. But I repeated to myself like a mantra,
Don't look back, Sinead; don't look back …

I reached the top of the steps and faced the ancient carved door, wondering what I would do if it didn't open this time around. But it did, and I lurched outside into the light, both arms across my face to defuse the glare. Everywhere was calm: the storm had abated.

‘James? I – Is all this … real?' I faltered.

‘It's real, Sinead.'

There was one overriding question I had to ask. ‘Did you … die?'

He hesitated for only a moment. ‘I did.'

‘Then how can—'

I broke off. I'd watched James take his last breath. I was burning to ask how he could be with me now, but I was too overcome. It was minutes before I could speak.

‘Your body, how was it moved?'

‘Sister Catherine can move heaven and earth,' James answered softly. ‘I knew you wouldn't look back,' he added, and there was laughter in his voice.

I still couldn't, terrified of what I might see. It will still be James, the voice inside my head vowed. No matter how he looks, it will still be James. You love his soul. He smelled like warm rain mixed with summer fruits. His fingers caressed my cheek, and my head nuzzled into the hollow of his neck, but I couldn't yet face him. Eventually his hands gripped my shoulders and forced me to turn around. My heart was thumping so loudly with joy and fear that I thought it would burst. Part of me willed it to.

He was as beautiful as ever – no, more beautiful because his skin glowed with vitality and his hair shone like the sun. I threw my arms around him and we embraced for so long that I felt frozen in this position. If he moved away I'd be certain to stay this way, constantly mourning the gap where his body had been. As if in recognition of this James took my arms from around his neck and lowered them to my sides.

A sense of euphoria swept over me. Sister Catherine had told me he was waiting. There must be a way we could be together. Somehow, in this crazy place, there had to be a
means to cheat death. ‘Now you can stay with me?' I asked with desperate hope.

James's face clouded over. ‘It isn't that easy.'

‘I survived all the tests,' I gushed. ‘I'll love you until the mountains crumble, every star in the heavens has faded and the sun dies.'

James's jaw tightened and he looked with despair into the distance. ‘I love you for eternity, Sinead, but there's somewhere I have to go before I can be with you.'

My voice wavered. ‘Don't be silly. We found each other again. I defy anyone to prise me from you.'

‘But you're still alive.'

‘Is that all?' I answered easily, winding my fingers through his. ‘I feel like I've always been living on borrowed time. I've already tried to pre-empt death.'

‘Promise me you won't try that again,' James said urgently, ‘or I might not be able to find you.'

I sighed. ‘I promise, but … where do you have to go?'

James didn't reply but pressed his lips briefly to mine. ‘You know I have blood on my hands.'

‘But you weren't guilty.'

He placed his hand against my lips. It took a minute for me to realize he was slipping through my fingers again.

‘No one's perfect,' I moaned. ‘Whoever's in charge here should realize that.'

James closed one eye to look at me and his lips curved upward. ‘It isn't just me. Most of us who find our way to this place need some time.'

‘You mean … that I found you again … just to say goodbye?' I could barely choke out the words.

He nodded sadly.

‘How long do we have?'

James consulted his nonexistent watch and smiled wryly. ‘I'm already late.'

He could still joke. I wanted to cling to him, beg him to take me with him, tell him that we'd both willingly be damned for eternity if it meant we could stay together, but James had a chance of redemption; I couldn't ruin that.

He held up one hand in warning. ‘Don't watch me leave, Sinead. Whatever you do, don't watch … you couldn't stand it.'

I closed my eyes in acknowledgement of his words. He must have hesitated, because there was a shadow in front of me and his lips touched mine. Only seconds passed before the full weight of his departure hit me. I wouldn't be a coward this time. I would watch him leave to catch one final glimpse of him. My eyelids tentatively fluttered open and caught the glint of his hair, but a beam of light shone directly at me, making me fall to my knees.

*

‘Are you all right?' Sister Catherine asked.

I reached out my hands and patted her arm as she crouched next to me. There was a pinprick hole in the centre of my vision that made the world amorphous.

‘I found James but lost him again,' I said.

‘His time away will be but brief, Sinead.'

‘How brief?'

‘That's impossible to answer. Four minutes can feel like four hundred years when you're deprived of the one you love.'

‘So what becomes of me?' I demanded furiously.

Perhaps it was the sunspots in front of my eyes, but Sister Catherine appeared changed, her hair black, her lips full and her eyes now dotted with flecks of violet.

‘You have a choice,' she told me. ‘Go back to the life you left behind. Or stay here and wait for James.'

‘But what would I do here without James?'

‘As I have done,' she said. ‘The job of a guardian is a tireless one, not for the faint-hearted.'

‘Can I leave, or see anyone?'

‘You cannot go beyond the wall encompassing the estate. The only people you will see are those close to death. It will be your job to help them, to invite them to make the right choice.'

‘So that's why Patrick came here. You sent him his own personal invitation.'

‘He had been close to the edge so often,' she said with sorrow. ‘It was only a matter of time.'

The full enormity of what she was asking hit me. Was I ready to give up my life? Everything in this journey seemed to have led me to this point, but still I wavered. There was one thing that could make up my mind. ‘James feels so far away already,' I said. ‘How will I reach him?'

I could hear the gentle rustle of Sister Catherine's robes
and her voice seemed as gentle as a zephyr. ‘You're halfway there, Sinead. Never forget that.'

Hearing these words made something explode inside my head. It felt as if all my past memories and the future I would never see were condensed into a single, beautiful moment. My heart was bursting with emotion, but I didn't want to go back. I took a deep breath, now certain of what I should do.

‘I'll take over your duties,' I said with conviction. ‘James is worth waiting for.'

Sister Catherine must have stood up, because colours were rising in front of me, the empty space in my vision getting larger. Her hand took hold of mine for just a second.

‘I'm going now, Sinead.' I could tell from her voice that she was smiling.

I scrunched up my eyes, trying to focus. Sister Catherine wasn't alone. She was hand in hand with a man slightly taller than her, and the sun glistened in his hair, creating a halo of light. They were disappearing into the horizon. Then everything went black.

Harry moved aside the climbers that cascaded to the ground. He stared in confusion. A network of brambles, poison ivy and bindweed had cut off the secret entrance to the Benedict estate. He couldn't fight his way through unless he wanted to be ripped to pieces. He tried to peer inside. The grounds were unkempt and overgrown, although the pathways were free from vegetation as if someone walked along them often. It was difficult to imagine what Sinead had been doing here for fourteen days. According to the villagers, Benedict House was in a terrible state of repair, virtually derelict. For years, until her recent death, old Mrs Benedict had been the only occupant.

Harry leaned against the crumbling wall, his face twisted in anguish. He still felt responsible for Sinead's disappearance. If he'd searched Patrick's flat more thoroughly things might have turned out differently. At least she'd been spared the grim discovery of her brother's body hanging from the bell tower. It was too horrific to
think about. While Sinead had been staying in the converted chapel looking for Patrick, he'd been so close to her.

His phone beeped. It was a message from Sara, asking what time he'd be back. She didn't have to say what she really meant, but he knew.
It's time to come back to me. It's time to let Sinead go
.

Harry took one last look. There was something eerie about this place; the complete and utter silence was profound and unnerving. He jumped. There appeared to be a woman's face looking at him, but it was only a marble statue looking forlornly into the distance. It was weird, but he felt close to Sinead here. He picked up a dandelion clock from the ground and gently blew the soft white seeds, watching as they dispersed in the air. He hoped that Sinead had found what she was looking for;

He hoped that she found all the time in the world.

A huge thank-you to Darley Anderson for giving me the opportunity to see my novel in print.

A massively colossal thank-you to my agent Madeleine Milburn – all-round wonderfully talented and inspirational mentor (and part-time angel) – for her constant support and for telling me it was going to be OK when I needed to hear it most.

To everyone at Quercus, oodles of gratitude for EVERYTHING, too many things to list, but a special thank-you to Sarah Lilly, an amazing editor, for her insight and guidance, not to mention patience and endurance – both needed in abundance!

To Talya Baker – fab copy editor, linguist and grammar queen.

To my foreign publishers, an insanely big thank-you – you've made the world so much smaller and friendlier.

To my mum for being so proud and to my dad, the brightest star, for still being with me.

To my sister Jan for her proofreading, pep talks and relentless optimism.

To Pete, for cooking me gorgeous meals and putting up with my writing angst (insanity)!

To Linda Harris, RGN, for all your help and for being such a lovely person.

To Karen Murray – I couldn't get by without the Brie and sympathy, and to Alex Murray a big thank-you for being my first teenage reader.

To my sons, Mike, Chris and Mark – for simply being in the world.

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