Each Day I Wake: A gripping psychological thriller: US Edition Read Free Page B

farmer’s field at the rear of the street. The meeting place for our gang. The place we went to test our honor. The tree we climbed right up to that high branch from where we jumped to the ground to prove our right to belong. The place where we cut each other’s thumbs, pressed them together and swore we’d be blood brothers ‘til the end of time.”
    The more Marianne described it, the more I could believe I was there. “I can feel the judder of my knees on my chin as I thumped into the ground. And the jolt of pain in my thumb.”
    She smiled. “There, Tom, you can recall it. Recall it all. Just let it all back in.”
    “What became of the Brogans?”
    “We lost contact once we moved house, once we went to schools different to them. We went our own ways. I wouldn’t know where to look for them now or what’s happened to them. One thing’s certain, Della and Marshall won’t have had the life chances we’ve had and that’s a shame. They were good kids.”
    I was reaching for a disturbing thought that wouldn’t quite form itself. “And the father, Jimmie Brogan, something happened to him?”
    She looked away. “I hadn’t planned to tell you about that. He was larger than life. The father of the Brogan house, six foot four and a giant to us all. He was killed crossing the road on his way home from his work one misty September night. The immense sadness of Marshall and Della and their mother Caitlin stays with me to this day. The street where we lived and played was never the same again.”
    I tried to recall it. “I remember their pain.”
    “I don’t think the family ever recovered from the shock of losing him. I don’t think things worked out well for Della and Marshall.”
    She moved the conversation on. She talked about the school friends we had in common, our lives as teenagers when it was as if the whole world was against us. Marianne had photographs, too. She pointed to the faces and gave a name to each.
    “And here’s Bill Everett. The guy who became your best man.”
    “You knew him?”
    “Tom, I went out with him for over a year.”
    The more my sister told me, the more I felt a part of what she was telling me until I began to say to myself, yes, that’s me, I will remember it all .
    Marianne could stay no longer than that single weekend. She returned to her life in Florida.
    I thanked her for all the help she’d given me in rebuilding my past. She’d shone a light on our childhood together and, with what Janet had told me, I was beginning to feel more confident that one day soon I’d be able to fill in more of the gaps myself. That I’d be the one to feel these people and places and times were part of me and not just a story about someone else.
    And I thanked her for making the long journey to see me when she had so many commitments back home.
    I fought the feeling of loss as I kissed her farewell as she walked out to the taxi that took her to the airport.
    “Take care, sis.”
    She kissed me back. “Just get well, Tom. Next time I see you I expect you to be your old self.”
    If only I knew what my old self was. I tried to smile. “I’ll give it my best shot.”

CHAPTER 14
    Another girl.
    Felicity.
    Young. Twenty-one. Intelligent. A lover of sport.
    We’re talking about how we met playing squash.
    What am I doing here?
    We’re back in that book-lined room.
    There’s no lovemaking this time because she’s refusing, saying that she’s not like that.
    I’m pushing her back onto the couch and she’s starting to scream.
    My hands over her mouth to quieten her.
    The tattoo. The single red rose on my left forearm.
    This can’t be me. Can’t be me.
    Yet I see those hands gripping poor Felicity by the neck.
    I see the life leaving her body, her eyes bulging, her face reddening and then darkening.
     

CHAPTER 15
    I knew I couldn’t keep this to myself.
    The last return of memory had come out of nowhere, in the afternoon, while I was sitting reading. It had invaded my thoughts.
    I