Blink Page 7

  I’m contemplating that thought when I see him. His head is poking through my ever-open window. Looks like he’s on garden duty today. I don’t really know what his job is. I think he’s a handyman. He seems to do a bit of everything around the unit. He mentions some guy called Frank when he talks to me, but honestly I don’t know who Frank is. I just like listening to him talk.

  “Hey, beautiful! Looking mighty fine today.” Just hearing his voice warms my heart, like honey washing over me. Makes me forget the visit and the degrading…things that happened. “I’m working outside today, so you’ll get to meet the legend that is Frank; he’ll be in to clean your room today. Don’t worry, he isn’t a talker like me. But none of that flirty smiling business with my boss! I’m right outside your room, and believe me, I’ll know!” The wink that he rewards me with is overwhelming, so I repay him with his own personal nirvana. I smile, the biggest one I’ve managed so far. Not only am I smiling, but I’m flashing teeth too. It doesn’t feel so weird either now. I think my cheeks are getting used to the work.

  Flynn lowers his head, covering his eyes with his hands. His shoulders are shaking as he rubs his face. Did I do something wrong? Is he ridiculing me? The smile slides from my face quickly as I watch him raptly from my bed. It takes a long minute for him to raise his head and look at me again, but when he does, he takes my breath away.

  “That smile of yours just blows me away. You have no idea, Harper.” I’m rejoicing in his words as my mother waltzes in the door, her arms laden with bags. Thankfully, they block her view of me, and Flynn, for that matter. I remove the smile from my mouth abruptly before she can see it, and my eyes dart across to Flynn who mouths, See you later, at me, then disappears from view.

  “Oh, Harper, sweetie. You look different, wonderful even, today. That dress is simply stunning on you. The colour is just gorgeous next to your skin.” I’ve shut down, locked myself away again. It’s something I’ve become very good at. My wonderfulness today is nothing to do with my dress. It’s all Flynn. He makes me wonderful.

  I’m watching as her mouth moves, spilling words forth into the room. Not hearing a single one of them, my eyes stare right through her as she continues her warbling. She’s alone again. Pops hasn’t been in for…trying to do the mental maths as she talks is distracting…almost ten days. She hasn’t mentioned him either. I’m normally informed of my father’s schedule, but not this time. Perhaps I missed the update.

  My mother continues to orate as my thoughts sway back to the boy who occupies my mind perpetually. My eyes have sought him out through the window, surveying him as he works diligently, cutting back hedges and clearing flowerbeds. He stops to take a drink from his water bottle, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his T-shirt. Resting under the nearby tree, taking respite in the shaded area, he stretches his arms above him, resting them on the low branch above his head. He looks like he should be in one of those canned drink adverts, all sweaty and glistening in the sun.

  My eyes scan his frame, settling on the band of flesh his raised arms have exposed around his middle. The skin between his jeans and raised T-shirt looks toned and smooth. I didn’t account for the yearning I would feel to touch that little band of skin.

  He lifts his head and catches me in my stalkerish act. He’s close enough for me to see and hear him laugh out loud. His head lowers slightly, shaking from side to side before he meets my gaze again. Raising his hand, he waves fractionally at me before returning to his garden duties, leaving me with my mother and that damned book.

  I must have drifted off to sleep as my mother read out loud to me. As I rouse from that dreamlike state, where you’re still not sure if you’re awake or not, the voices drift around the room, washing over me as I flit between conscious states. I’m fighting to open my eyes, but they’re laden. My eyelids are battling, against my will, to expose my eyes to the light in the room.

  Trying to decipher the voices, my hearing strains against the hushed talking. Only I think my mother forgot they were whispering as her voice reaches a new octave. “Mrs Lawrence, we’ve always been honest with our expectations regarding Harper’s recovery. She has to want to get better, and currently, I don’t think she does. Moving her yet again will just further impede any improvement. I really must advise you against transferring her at this time.”

  “But my husband’s company is relocating overseas. The move is essential. I cannot leave my daughter here. The warmer climate may help with her…illness.” She’s clutching at straws now. Cracking my eyes open slightly as I listen to the conversation, I recognise Dr Forrester. She took over my care when they moved me here. A specialist in her field, expert in my area of awkwardness, evidently. A psychiatrist by all accounts, seeing as they can’t actually find anything physically wrong with me now. Well, they wouldn’t; my body recovered from the crash a long time ago. My mind just isn’t ready to relinquish the last bit of power. So I suppose a psychiatric unit is the most logical place for me to be.

  Not that Bluebell Hill is a psychiatric unit, per se. The brochure says they cater to all needs. My mother made sure to read the whole blurb to me when they moved me here. So that’s why Dad hasn’t been in for a while; he’s working overseas. Sebastian takes that moment to make his grand entrance. It’s the first time he’s been here to visit me.

  Breezing through the door like he owns the place, he nods swiftly at me and lifts his sunglasses up to the top of his head. “Now, Mother, let’s not beat around the bush. Pops isn’t simply relocating overseas. He’s left us—well, you anyway. I’ve been assured my financial support will continue.” Removing his shades from his head, he begins to wave them around, gesticulating as he continues to enlighten all who will listen as to the state of my parents’ marriage. “Penny—I think that’s her name—she’s joining him. So I know there’s no room for you, unless you’re into sharing these days!” I swear to God, the light just chinked off his teeth, like in the movies. He’s mocking our mother like only Seb can.

  My mother raises her arm swiftly, and her hand comes crashing down across my sibling’s cheek. The sound resonates around the room as Dr Forrester flicks her gaze between mother and son, unsure of whether she should intervene or not.

  Without another word, my mother grabs her bags and exits promptly, leaving my doctor and brother staring at the door. “Well, that went well!” Dr Forrester excuses herself and leaves my brother alone with me.

  “Now, Sis, don’t you go worrying that pretty little head of yours. Pops said you’re not moving anywhere. That’s why I’m here, to pass on the message.” He’s helping himself to the mini bar that’s located in my room. Only the best for Daddy’s little girl. Not that I’ve ever actually drank anything from in there, but Mother does. I’m not even sure what it’s stocked with, to be honest. “He said to tell you that he will visit as often as he can, and then when you’re better…” Seb runs his eyes up and down the length of me and shrugs, as though he can’t believe he just said those words. “Well, when you’re able to, you can decide where you want to live.”

  I have so many questions, which I clearly don’t ask. I knew their marriage wasn’t what it should be. I’m not blind, after all. It’s been apparent for years, what with the separate rooms and separate lives. I’m frankly amazed it hasn’t happened before now. But to have an affair, which is what my brother has hinted at—well, I think that’s abhorrent.

  “In case you’re curious, Penny is half his age, dumb as fuck and has an awesome rack! Not that I looked too closely. She’s been blowing him for years. As long as I can remember, anyway!” Sebastian chuckles at his own repugnant words. I think I visibly shudder, because his laughter stops abruptly. “Did you just make a noise? You did! I fucking heard you! Way to go, Sis!”

  Shit, I don’t think I did. I didn’t mean to, that’s for sure. He’s laughing hysterically now. “Wait until I tell the old man that little gem! Maybe he should have gone a year ago, and then we’d not be in this predicament with you.” Predicament?
That’s how my brother sees me? An effing predicament! “Well, I’ve gotta go. Places to go, people to see. Catchya later!” He’s planting a kiss on my cheek and out of the door before I know it. Leaving me to ponder the tatters of my parents’ marriage.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Harper

  My brother left over an hour ago, and now and I’ve mentally pulled my parents’ marriage to pieces in that time. I’ve pored over almost every moment of my childhood, trying to identify the signs of his apparent affair, but I’ve come up with nothing solid. Part of me is glad that I don’t have to move units again, but my heart feels a little empty at the thought of my fractured family.

  Frank—well, I presume it’s him—is checking out my room. For what, I don’t know, because a cleaner came in earlier, but he’s giving it the quick once-over anyway. Perhaps Flynn asked him to stop by. I’ve been clock watching for the last ninety minutes. Flynn disappeared from my view some time ago, but he still hasn’t materialised. To say I’m getting a little antsy is an understatement of epic proportions. Our friendship is still in its infancy, but I miss him when he’s not here. I hate the days he doesn’t work. They seem to stretch on for an inordinate amount of time. I wish he’d get a move on. I need my Flynn time.

  Flynn was right when he said Frank wasn’t a talker. He’s minding his own business as he diligently works his magic on my room, when in walks the man in question. “Hey, man, you trying to steal my girl, there?” He pats the older man on the shoulder as Frank takes him to task about ‘getting too comfortable with the patients.’

  His girl! I’m giddy at the thought. I’ve always been independent in life, but I have to admit, I kind of like the sound of being his. In fact I’ve never wanted to belong to anyone more than I do now.

  Flynn dismisses the caution without any further regard. “I’ve seen the poster for the fete on Saturday. Do they need any volunteers? I thought I could bring my brother along, help out with…whatever.” He shrugs his shoulders as he finishes his sentence. It may be nothing to him, but my heart rate just peaked. If he volunteers, then maybe I’ll get to see him at the weekend, too!

  “Speak to Josh. He’ll let you know what they need. I’m sure they’ll need extras.” Frank smiles my way then, and bids us both farewell.

  “See ya, man.” Flynn offers another swift slap to the old man’s back before he makes his way to my side. “Now, how’s my girl been today? Have you had visitors?” He lifts his hand to my face as though he’s going to touch my cheek. I’m mentally willing him to carry out his wish, but he hesitates momentarily and thinks better of it. Instead, he smooths out the pillowcase beneath my head. Flynn’s frowning, and it bothers me. The wrinkles are marring his features and I don’t like it. “You’re not smiling for me. Is everything okay?” he asks, concern etched around his eyes.

  If that’s what’s bothering him, I can rectify that immediately. I flash my pearly whites, too, just for good measure.

  His features soften instantaneously as he rewards me with a wink. “I brought you something today.” He fiddles around in his pocket and produces a little wire thing, which he attaches to his phone. He must see the confusion spread across my face, because he answers my unasked question. “It’s a headphone splitter.” He connects two pairs of headphones to the splitter and places one set in his own ears before connecting the second set, which he holds in front of me. “Can I?” I love that he asks permission to touch me; nobody else ever does that. The physio, nurses, even my mother, they never ask. Everyone just assumes that I’m okay with being manhandled.

  I’m really not okay with being touched at all by most people, but Flynn isn’t most people.

  I’ve no sooner given him the go ahead with my eyes than the buds are in my ears. He hits the play button and music fills my head.

  “Just let me know when I get to something you like.” The song in my ears changes to a different one, then another and another. He keeps his eyes on mine as he flicks through the tracks, waiting for me to indicate for him to stop.

  ‘Dakota’ by Stereophonics comes on and I blink swiftly at him. “Ah, you like the good stuff.” He sits on the bed beside me, facing me, holding his phone between us. The look on his face is staggering as he watches me enjoy the tune.

  I spend the next thirty minutes with Flynn as he traipses through his playlist, showing me the music that shaped the boy who sits before me. He has very eclectic tastes. His favourites range from classic rock to Martha and the Vandellas, and I am loving this little insight into his soul. Our time together feels peaceful, relaxed and unforced. The silence between us isn’t uncomfortable, it’s companionable. I feel completely at ease with Flynn. It’s as though he’s always been a part of my life. The short time in which we’ve actually become acquainted, friends even, has become my sole focus.

  As the track comes to an end, I become aware of him watching me and tilt my head to the side to look into his eyes. Flynn is staring intently at my face. He’s mesmerizing. His eyes speak volumes; they hide oceans of secrets behind the bright windows to his soul. “I really wish I knew what you were thinking when you look at me like that.” His eyes now focus on my lips. “You look so troubled sometimes when I come in here. I just wish you would talk to me…” I think my eyes must cloud over, or something similar, because the panic is evident in his eyes now. He thinks he’s upset me.

  Little does he know, there is nothing I want more than to tell him everything, to tell him my story. If only I could find the strength to speak, I think Flynn would be the one I would tell. But that’s unfair of me. It’s unfair of me to burden anyone with the filthy, horrid mess that is my life. If I am reading the boy before me correctly, I think he carries enough of his own troubles. He doesn’t need mine too. And if I let Flynn into my world, then I have to let everyone else back in too.

  “Harper, I won’t push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you don’t want to talk, that’s your decision.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks to me. “I just don’t understand why you choose not to. But I guess I’m not going to understand—that is, until you decide you trust me enough to speak to me.”

  He’s waiting expectantly, and I can feel him willing me to talk. I want to. I really want to. I move my mouth to say my first word in over a year. Flynn’s eyebrows shoot up, almost disappearing into his hairline. He’s mentally spurring me on, praying for the words to flow from my mouth.

  Before I can muster up the impetus to form the words, he beats me to it, giving me an out, an escape route, yet again. “It’s okay, I understand, you don’t really know me. I have to get going anyway. I’ll see you soon.”

  He gently plucks the headphones from my ears, unplugs them from his phone, wraps them in a tight little coil and shoves them into the front pocket of his faded jeans. He pauses, standing by my hospital bed, our eyes fixated on each other. I just want to reach out and touch him, feel his warm skin. Experience the kind of touch that was meant to be. Not the kind that is forced upon me against my will.

  Flynn’s eyes are burning brightly, glowing with hope as we remain connected on an almost spiritual level. Its then that I see it, the angst within him.

  Flynn has secrets too.

  He leans forward, supporting his weight on the edge of my bed. His hands are millimetres away from mine, and I can feel the heat emanating from him. Moving closer to me, he halts when his face is a breath away from mine. I can hear my heart beating inside my chest, pounding out a rhythmic beat. The giddiness at having him in such close proximity is dizzying.

  “Breathe, Harper.” Flynn chuckles. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanted to kiss you. Can I kiss you? Please.”

  I’m watching him intently, scrutinising the curve of his lips. His mouth is slightly open, and I can feel his breath on my own lips. He is intoxicating.

  My mouth turns up into the biggest smile I have managed to date. My eyelashes sweep downwards twice and he beams down at me. Flynn’s chin lifts upwards fractionally as I til
t my head slightly, readying myself for his lips on mine. His smile gains width, if that’s at all possible, and then he kisses me.

  On the forehead.

  It’s gentle and whisper like, and I am breathless with excitement. A little disappointed that he didn’t kiss my lips, but he kissed me nonetheless, and I feel it everywhere, tingling and burning its way across every last nerve in my body. It is the best feeling ever.

  “I really do have to go, but I’ll see you soon.” Flynn’s lips brush lightly across my skin again. This time I tilt my head at a higher angle, hoping he’ll take the hint. He doesn’t, but his fingers do brush mine accidentally as he lifts his hands from their supporting position on my bed.

  I know he feels it too, the electricity that just jolted between us both, otherwise, why would he have jumped? My fingers move spontaneously for the first time in a very long time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Flynn

  Jacob is sitting across the table from me, staring at me as though I’ve grown a second head. We’ve had the usual grunting chat about his school day, and now he’s studying me fiercely. It’s unnerving.

  “What happened to you today? You look all…happy and shit. You look weird.” Ever the charmer, my brother. “Did you steal something else? You know you can’t be doing that shit again, Flynn!” His voice is whiny and grating.

  “Watch your mouth. I didn’t steal anything. I promised you I was finished with all that and I meant it.”

  We’d had the chat when we got back from court that day. I vowed to him that I would start over, and I have no intention of breaking that promise to him. Not now, not ever. It’s not going to be an easy path, but it’s one I’m ready to walk. It’s like something clicked inside my brain that day. Life, it’s not the way it’s supposed to be, it’s just the way it is. Learning to cope with it is what makes the difference. It took a long time for me to realise that we didn’t deserve to be dealt a cushy hand, we had to earn it. Mrs Fisher told me that we make our own luck in this world. She taught me that there is always hope in this life.