The Two Lives of Lydia Bird - Josie Silver Page 0,5

I’m in.

I can’t breathe; my breath burns in my chest.

‘You died.’ I sob out the shocking words, my eyes scanning his beloved face for telltale signs of the accident. There’s nothing, no hint of the catastrophic head injury that claimed his life. His eyes are an unusual blue, dark enough to be mistaken for brown unless you’re close enough to really look. He sometimes wears a pair of black-framed glasses for important work pitches, clear glass, an illusion of weakness where there isn’t any. I stare into those eyes now and run my hand over the harvest-blond stubble on his jawline.

A soft laugh rumbles from him and relief passes through his eyes.

‘You daft cow,’ he says, hugging me in. ‘You were dreaming, that’s all.’

Oh, how dearly I wish that were true. I shake my head, so he takes my hand and lays it over his heart.

‘I’m fine,’ he insists. ‘Feel, my heart’s beating and everything.’

It is. I press hard enough to feel it jumping beneath my palm, and yet I know it isn’t, not really. It can’t be. He covers my hand with his own now, not laughing any more because he can see how distressed I am. He doesn’t understand, of course. How could he? He’s not real but, God, this doesn’t feel like any other dream I’ve ever had, either. I’m awake in my sleep. I can feel the heat of his body. I can smell the trace of his aftershave on his skin. I can taste my tears when he leans down and kisses me, tender. I can’t stop crying. I try to take shallow breaths as I hold him, as though he’s made of smoke and will blow away if I breathe too hard.

‘A nightmare, that’s all,’ he whispers, stroking my back, letting me cry it out because there’s nothing else he can do.

If only he knew that this is the opposite of a nightmare; nightmares come when you’re impatiently waiting for your boyfriend to arrive on your birthday, your family already assembled at the table in the restaurant on the high street.

‘I miss you. I miss you so very much,’ I gulp. I can’t keep a limb still and he folds his arms around me, really tight this time, and he’s telling me that he loves me and that he’s fine, that we’re both fine.

‘We’re going to be late for work,’ he says gently after a few minutes.

I lie still, my eyes closed, trying to memorize the feel of his arms around me for when I wake.

‘Let’s stay here,’ I whisper. ‘Let’s stay here for ever, Freddie.’

His hand slides into my hair and he draws my head back so he can look me in the eyes. ‘I wish I could,’ he says, the trace of a smile on his lips. ‘But you know I can’t. I’m chairing that meeting this morning with the PodGods,’ he says, reminding me of something I know nothing of.

‘The PodGods?’

He raises his eyebrows. ‘The coffee-pod people? Remember, I told you? They all turned up to the pitch wearing Day-Glo green PodGod T-shirts and baseball caps?’

‘How could I forget them,’ I say, even though I’ve no clue.

He untangles himself from me, kissing my cheek.

‘Stay here this morning,’ he says, his eyes concerned. ‘You never take a day off. Do it today, yeah? I’ll bring you a cup of tea.’

I don’t argue with him. I haven’t been to work in fifty-six days.

My life has been entwined around Freddie Hunter’s since the first time he kissed me, breathing himself into my DNA one late-summertime afternoon. It had been coming between us for a while, building like steam in an engine – his seat always beside mine in the school canteen so he could steal my ice cream, flirty comments batted back and forth across the classroom like tennis balls. He began to walk home the same way as Jonah and me even though it was out of his way, usually making up some flimsy excuse about collecting something for his mum or visiting his nan. When Jonah came down with chickenpox and had to stay home for a week or two, I didn’t stand a chance. I get nostalgic butterflies thinking about it even now: Freddie gave me a yellow plastic flower ring, the kind you get from a Christmas cracker, and then he kissed me sitting on my neighbours’ front wall.

‘Won’t your nan be worried about you?’ I asked him after the five most exciting minutes of my life.

‘Hardly. She lives in

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