Through the Glass (30 page)

The final piece, the painting she had finished so quickly whilst she was with him in Scotland, almost brought him to his knees. Julian appeared and grasped his shoulders, willing him to stay upright as he stared into the image of that special place that had stuck in her mind for all those years without revealing it’s true meaning to her until he had taken her there. He covered his mouth again as another pained sob erupted from within. He glanced at Julian whose eyes had also given way to saltwater.

Images of Flick in her paint spattered clothing and grinning from ear to ear as she revealed her latest work plagued Jim’s mind. How he had kissed her and told her she was the most wonderfully talented and sexy woman he had ever encountered; how she had blushed at his words and nuzzled his neck to hide her embarrassment at the compliments he bestowed upon her. His whole being ached to hold her again. Penelope came to stand before him and wiped his tears away with her thumbs. Tears he hadn’t realised were still falling.

On the return to their hotel, neither had the energy to eat. They parted with an embrace and went to their separate rooms. Jim collapsed, fully clothed onto the bed, emotionally exhausted. He drifted into a sleep filled with dreams of Flick.
His
Flick.

~~~~~

The following day, Penelope had insisted on taking the train back to Hampshire, and Jim had only argued for a few minutes before realising her resolve was strong. He had a life to get back to. Didn’t he? A derisive snort escaped his body.
That
life was supposed to be filled with him and Felicity together from this point. Well, he had
hoped
it would be; he had almost felt sure it would. But now…all he was left with were his memories.

Julian had assigned himself to dealing with the press and had become a temporary fixture at the gallery, hell bent on doing all he could to assure that
Through the Glass
was a success. He didn’t have to try hard. Flick’s true identity was going to be released once Penelope and Jim had been able to hold a memorial service, but that couldn’t be done until the enquiries into the plane crash were concluded. No one knew how long that would take, and so for now, Jim headed back to his Highland home.

After the long drive and retrieving Jasper from his neighbour, he opened the front door to his little cottage and closed it behind him. The house he had loved since moving in now felt cold and lifeless. With a heavy heart, he walked into the lounge. He had been hoping and expecting to come back here with Flick. Even if it had been a temporary thing until they decided their next step. He was going to bring her in, build a roaring fire, and lay her out in front of it. He was going to worship her body like he should have the last time, never letting her go again. But instead he stood in his lounge without her.

Even though she had only been here with him for a brief time after Christmas, it had felt right, although he couldn’t admit it at the time. Every inch of the place echoed with memories of her. She belonged here. He had realised this too late. If only he hadn’t been so harsh. If only he hadn’t misread the signs, she would be here with him now. She would never have left. She would never have gone to New York and she would never have boarded that damned flight.

Leaning against the wall and sliding down with a thump to the floor, he pulled Jasper into him. “She’s left me again, Jasper. But this time it’s for good. She’s gone, Jasper…she’s gone.” He nuzzled the dog’s fur and began to grieve all over again.

~~~~~

May 2012

The following days were spent in a numb haze. Jim had to make great efforts to carry out the simplest of tasks. His brother had arrived two days after his return from Glasgow after Tara’s parents had insisted on paying for a flight. Tara had stayed home. Euan did his best to look after his older brother, but the fact was Jim had no interest in looking after himself.

“Jim, you’re going to have to eat, bro. I made you some soup. After you’ve eaten this you need to take a shower. You stink, you know.” Euan nudged Jim’s shoulder as he sat beside him holding out the tray of food.

Jim took the tray and rested it on his knees. “Gee thanks, bro. I’m so glad you came,” he replied sarcastically and smiled, but the smile only curled at his lips, not making it as far as his eyes.

“You’re welcome. So…food…shower…bed, yes?” Euan patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Aye. Okay,” Jim acquiesced.

Euan began to walk toward the kitchen but stopped and turned to faced Jim. “Oh and another thing…”

“What now?” Jim looked up into his brother’s concerned gaze.

“Please stop playing that music over and over, okay? I know they’re pieces that remind you of her. But it’s not healthy, bro. Listen to something else, eh?” Jim had played Pearl Jam’s
Black
and Debussy’s
Clair De Lune
pretty much on a loop whenever he was cocooned in his room. The lilting melodies and the memories of Flick that they evoked were like a security blanket.

“I’ll listen to what I fucking like. It’s ma house.” Jim’s tone remained steady but he narrowed his eyes at his brother.

“Aye, I know that. It’s just… Well for starters it’s doing my fucking head in and I used to love them both…but…you can’t bring her back by playing them over and over. You know?” Euan’s eyes were filled with sadness as Jim looked up at him through his matted hair.

Anger rose within him and he stood, throwing the tray to the floor. “Don’t you think I fucking know that?!” he shouted. He was shaking and his fists clenched. “Don’t you think I know that
nothing
I do will ever change this fucking awful pain I’m stuck with?” His voice cracked at he pointed to his chest. “It’s a physical, excruciating fucking pain. I lost her once before, Euan. I can’t deal with losing her again. It’s too fucking much! It’s not fair!” An anguished sob erupted from his throat and he dropped to his knees.

In two strides, Euan crossed the room and grabbed Jim into a strong embrace. “I know…I know…forget I said anything. I’m sorry, Jim…I am… I’m so, so sorry.”

~~~~~

Jim was awoken from a dream by a strange noise. He sat bolt upright and checked the time. Four o’clock. He realised the strange noise was the house phone.
Who the hell rings at four o’clock in the morning?
An awful thought ran though his mind
. Oh shit, something’s happened to Penelope.

The ringing stopped as Jim dived out of bed and bolted downstairs. He flicked the light switch on in the lounge. Euan stood there holding the phone, shaking his head. Jim’s stomach lurched and his heart pounded against his ribcage.

Euan covered the receiver and looked to Jim. His eyes once again filled with concern. “It’s Penelope. Jim, she’s rambling and I can’t get a word in. I think she’s had some sort of breakdown. She’s not making any sense.” He held out the receiver to Jim.

Jim grabbed the receiver. “Penny? It’s Jim. What is it? What’s wrong?” His breathing was erratic both from running down the stairs and from nervous energy and panic.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jim! It wasn’t true! None of it was true!” Penny’s voice sounded manic, and Jim filled with fear. Her words were coming out in a rush.
Was
she having a breakdown? He had to remain strong.

“Okay, Penny, slow down. I think you need to take some calming breaths and explain what’s wrong.”

“Jim, you’re not listening to me! She wasn’t on the plane!” Penny virtually screamed down the line.

Jim’s legs weakened. He heard a buzzing noise loud in his ears and felt the blood drain from cheeks. He slumped to his knees as Euan stood beside him.

“Jim, you alright, bro? Jim?”

Chapter 26

May 2012 – Three Years and Three Months After the Break-up

Jim sat in the passenger seat as Euan drove him to the airport. This morning’s conversation played over and over in his mind. His heart rate had still not settled, and he just about pulled holes in his jeans where his nails dug into the denim covering his legs.

“Jim, are you there, Jim? You’ve gone quiet.” Penny’s voice had been filled with concern. “Jim, are you alright, dear?”

Jim had rubbed his hand over his face and snapped himself back to reality. Anger brewed up inside him. “Is this some kind of sick joke, Penny? Is someone trying to play us here? Because this sounds like someone has made a prank call to you.”
How could people be so cruel at a time like this? To this poor woman who had lost her daughter?

“No, Jim. It’s real. I had a call from a Detective Rand with the NYPD. They discovered a collapsed female in the ladies lavatories at JFK. She had no I.D. on her and she was unconscious.” Jim listened intently to every word, trying to decipher whether this was really happening. “She was taken to hospital where they had a terrible job of trying to find her identity. She had no luggage, and the search at the airport did nothing to resolve that matter.”

“But…but she
died
in a plane crash, Penny. I don’t understand. There were no survivors, remember?” Jim’s voice was shaky and beads of sweat trailed cool paths down his overheated skin.

“No, that’s the thing. They checked all the flights and the only person
not
checked in on any flight was a Felicity Johnston-Hart. She fits the description they gave me, Jim.” Penny’s voice was croaky and faltering as she spoke. “She was apparently drugged, Jim… Someone tried to
kill
her. She’s in a coma.” Penelope sobbed down the line.

The words stabbed Jim in the heart and physical pain speared him. His stomach lurched. “Someone tried to
kill
her? Why?”

“That’s what they’re trying to figure out, Jim. It was deliberate. She wasn’t a random target that’s for sure. It appears all of her belongings were removed when the culprit left the airport.”

Jim rubbed his hand over his head as the words sunk in. “Fuck…oh God, I’m sorry for swearing, Penny.”

He heard a faint laugh down the line. “Oh, Jim, don’t worry. I think I even swore a little myself at the news. You need to get on a flight over there. My passport has expired, and I have to get one as soon as possible so I’ll meet you over there. I’ve booked you into the Hilton. Please get there as soon as possible. Your flight is booked and you need to be at the airport by ten.”

~~~~~

“Earth to Jim?” Euan broke Jim from his thoughts. “Are you okay, bro?”

Jim cleared his throat and looked at his brother. “No, I’m seriously
not
okay. What if it’s not her? What if it
is
her, and she dies? I can’t stand this, Euan. It’s tearing me apart. I think
I’m
teetering on the edge of a fucking breakdown here.”

“I think it’s unlikely they would drag you all the way out there if they weren’t sure, eh?” Euan smiled. “I’m guessing that your going to identify her is just a matter of clarification. Dotting the
i’s
and crossing the
t’s
kind of stuff.”

“Aye…maybe… I’m terrified though. Why the hell would anyone want to
kill
her? I just don’t get it.”

“Me neither, mate. Me neither. But thank fuck they didn’t succeed, eh? Right?” Euan gave his brother’s leg a firm pat.

“Aye…not yet anyway.” Jim’s eyes stung from all the crying and lack of sleep he had endured since the terrible news about Flick’s death had come through…and now he was just downright confused.

~~~~~

After landing in New York’s bustling JFK airport, Jim made his way through to the taxi rank outside. He didn’t even bother to go to his hotel. He simply directed the driver to the Saint Cloud Hospital where the
Jane Doe
was lying in a bed awaiting official identification. The staff had been made aware of Jim’s impending arrival, and as soon as he walked through the doors to the intensive care unit, he was ushered into a side room by the consultant in charge of her care, along with a man in a suit.

“Welcome, Mr MacDuff, please take a seat.” Jim sat on a sofa situated along the wall. The two men remained standing. “I’m Doctor Felix Guzman and this is Detective Niall Rand. We’ve been dealing with the case of the woman we believe to be Felicity Johnston-Hart. Now, we wanted to go over a few things prior to taking you to see her. What lies ahead may be quite distressing for you, and we feel you should know the full extent of her condition.”

Jim listened intently but just wished they would get on with it so he could go to her. “Yes…yes of course…whatever’s needed.” He nodded.

“Okay, so here’s what we know so far… The woman was found in the ladies restroom at JFK on the day of the flight nine forty-two crash but after the flight had departed. She was covered in vomit and was unconscious. There was no I.D. on her person and no baggage was found in the waiting area. She was brought here by ambulance and was admitted in order that Dr. Guzman and his staff could carry out tests.”

“Hmmm, it was a bizarre one, Mr. MacDuff. Large quantities of a very strong prescription drug were found in her blood stream. It’s a drug that cannot be easily obtained. It comes in liquid form and it’s almost without taste apart from a slight bitterness. However, it could be easily disguised. It’s a powerful drug and is usually used to treat psychosis. Now, it appears that she may have been given the drug in an alcoholic beverage. The amounts that were found in her blood stream were enough to seriously harm her, but considering she had vomited a lot, possibly thanks to her body’s desire to expel the overdose, we feel that the original amount
was
intended to kill.”

Jim huffed the air out of his lungs like he had been winded. He shook violently and brought his hands to his face.

“Mr. MacDuff, are you alright? I know this is a lot to take in. Can I get you a drink of water?” Dr. Guzman asked

“Thank you…yes,” Jim croaked. Dr. Guzman left the room.

“Mr. MacDuff—”

“Call me Jim, please.”

“Okay, Jim…once we have ascertained the young woman’s identity and if it does prove to be Ms. Johnston-Hart, we will need to ask you some questions, okay?”