Hawthorn by Jamie Cassidy Read Free Book Online Page A

slapping a hand over her mouth and pulling her close. “Shhh, Mary. Hush, it’s okay, you’re okay. It was just a dream.”
    She fights me, thrashing about. Her fist smacks me in the eye.
    “Fuck! Mary! Fuck!” I release her to nurse my face.
    “Oh god!” Mary is back. “Jules? Shit! I’m so sorry.”
    I nod. “You okay?” I squint across at her. She looks sweaty, shaken. “What was it about?”
    “What?”
    “The nightmare.”
    She shakes her head. “I – I can’t remember.”
    “You were crying.”
    “Was I?”
    “Yeah.”
    She lies back on the pillow, pulling the covers back up around her. “I’m cold.”
    That is my invitation to snuggle.
    I pull her into my arms and hold her close. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”
    She laughs. “About bad dreams? Seriously?”
    “I don’t know. I just… I’m worried about you. You’ve been having nightmares ever since we moved.”
    “Exactly. It’s just the move. I’ll be fine.”
    I smile. That’s my Mary right there, assured and confident and not afraid of anything.
    “Oh, I think I remember now.”
    “What?”
    “I was dreaming of Karen.”
    “Karen? Henry’s wife?”
    “Yes.”
    “I thought you never met her?”
    “I didn’t. At least, I don’t think I did.”
    “So what happened?” I ask.
    “I can’t remember. I guess something bad.”
    “How did she die?”
    “She killed herself.”
    “Shit! Why?”
    Mary yawns, her jaw popping. “Not sure how much is true, but rumour has it that Karen killed her newborn and then killed herself; postnatal depression more than likely. It was very misunderstood back then.” She leans up and drops a kiss on my cheek before rolling onto her side, pulling my arm around her waist.
    She asleep in seconds, but for me, sleep is a long time coming.
     

17
    GEMMA
    My phone sits on my bedside table, silent and dead. I haven’t bothered to charge it. I’m not ready to speak to Liam yet. Instead, I work on Heather’s present. The twins turn five at the weekend. Mum and Jules have planned a day out to the nearest theme park for them. I said I would stay home and bake them a cake so we can have a little celebration when they get back. I wanted to give them something they could wear all the time, or most of the time. My box of goodies is open on my bed, filled with clear packets of charms and links, leather and clasps, beads and diamantes. Mum has promised to take me shopping soon to get some more stuff and Jules has promised to help me set up an Etsy store. I want to start selling custom-made creations.
    I made Danny a friendship bracelet using leather strips of brown, black and gold. I plaited them neatly and added a horseshoe for luck. It looks beautiful.
    Heather’s bracelet was a little harder, but the village gave me inspiration. I have created a chain of connected silver horseshoes. I hope she likes it. Horseshoes are a lucky charm after all; I looked it up.
    The sun is streaming into my room, cutting across my bed and illuminating the horseshoe bracelet, throwing sparks of light around the room. I lift it and turn it over and the lights dance like a disco ball.
    A shadow flits past in the periphery of my vision. I whip round to look. There’s nothing but the old battered dresser and mirror. I turn my attention back to the bracelet and there it is again. I turn in time to catch it, a shadow in the mirror. It is gone so quickly that I am left wondering what I saw.
    I slip off the bed, still clutching the bracelet and move across the floor to the dresser. There is a small ottoman, which doesn’t really match the dresser, and I park my backside on it and stare into the mirror, stare into my own green eyes. My hair is a mess. I reach up to touch it and my reflection does the same. There is a dark spot above my eyebrow. I rub at it. It doesn’t budge. I reach out to touch the smudge on the mirror, the bracelet still dangling from my hand. My fingers make contact and there is a snap. I pull my hand back