The house is in complete darkness.
And as silent as the grave.
‘Dain!’ I call out sharply, but there’s no answer.Shit.Forgoing the kerosene lamp because my hand is shaking too badly to light a match, I switch my phone torch on instead. As I point it up the stairs, someone looms in front of me. ‘Jesus Christ!’ I gasp and shrink backbut then realise it’s just my phone casting a shadow on the wall. Trying to calm my nerves, I ascend, keeping the light focused on the stairs.One step at a time, Lizzy. You can do it.
I reach the landing and shine the light on Dain’s door. It’s closed. ‘Dain?’ I call, edging closer to it. ‘Are you in there?’ I knock softly. Still no reply. My heart is banging like a bass drum. I don’t want to open the door, but I give myself a stern talking-to.Whatever’s in there might not be as bad you’re imagining. Remember there were no dead bats. Just do it!
Taking a deep shuddering breath, I grasp the handle, twist, and slowly open the door. Poking my phone torch into the cold, dark room, Dain’s four-poster bed is illuminated—and the black velvet curtains are tightly closed. Uttering a low moan and feeling like I’m in a Gothic horror movie, I shuffle forward with my hand outstretched until I touch the edge of a curtain. Tears well in my eyes.He’s gone, I know it. Let’s get it over with.
Tentatively, I pull back the curtain and shine my torch in. My breath catches in my throat. Dain is stretched out on the bed in his ruffled shirt, his face pale and his hands crossed over his chest. Next to him on the bed is an open packet of pills.
I stare in horror.
I’m too late.
‘Oh no,Dain!’ I cry and burst into violent, racking sobs loud enough to wake the dead.
And maybe I do because Dain’s eyes fly open.
‘Lizzy!’ he exclaims and smiles at me. Uncrossing his arms from his chest, he sits up.
Reader, am I seeing things? Do I want him to be alive so badly that I’ve conjured this? But his hand is holding mine, and I squeeze it to find it’s solid and warm. Oh my god, it’s real. He’s alive.
Happiness like I’ve never known surges through me, and I start sobbing joyful tears instead of ones of grief. ‘I couldn’t get hold of you, and I thought ... I thought ...’ I gasp.
Dain puts an arm round me, and I slump into him, still not quite believing he’s in the land of the living.
‘I’ve been writing all day! Azalea and Nathaniel broke up, and what with you leaving, it was a difficult chapter to write ... It gave me a headache, so I was having a little lie-down to recover ...’
Then he sees I’m still crying hard against his chest and grasps both my shoulders, peering at my face.
‘Lizzy, what’s going on?’
I gulp, trying to form sentences. ‘Klint said after Gareth broke up with you ... I came back as soon as I could. But you weren’t answering your phone. And when I saw you. Like that. And with these pills!’ I pick up the packet and thrust it at him.
Dain’s hands fall from my shoulders, and he sinks back down onto the bed and puts an arm across his eyes as if to shield himself from me.
‘Is it true? Did you ... did you take a whole lot of pills, after Gareth ... ?’
‘I was desperate and alone. I needed my dad, but he rejected me when I told him about me and Gareth. It was like a double whammy. So I took a few pills I’d been prescribed for depression to numb the pain, then some more as they weren’t working. I may have gone over the limit. I wasn’t feeling great, so I rang 111, and they overreacted a bit.’
‘And now?’ I say, opening the packet.
‘It’s paracetamol. I had two,’ he says defensively. I check, and most of them are there.
I bury my wet face in my hands and squeeze my eyes shut.
‘You scared the bejesus out of me,’ I say, my voice wobbling all over the place. ‘I thought it was going to be a repeat of my mother.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She killed herself when I was 16.’
Dain shoots up into a sitting position. ‘Oh no. Don’t tell me you found her?’
I nod. ‘In the bedroom after school. Pretty much like this.’
I start crying again as he rocks me in his arms, murmuring ‘Oh, Lizzy, I’m so sorry. Oh, my darling girl’ over and over.
