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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins 2013
Copyright © Amanda Brooke 2013
Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015
Cover photograph © Laura Ward Photography / Getty Images
Amanda Brooke asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authorâs imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
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Ebook Edition ISBN: 9780007522187
Version: 2015-07-20
âMum?â
Elle Morgan had almost made it to the door before her six-year-old son called her back. âGoodnight, Charlie,â she said, ignoring his latest attempt to keep her in the room that little bit longer.
Charlie wasnât giving up. âIf Granddadâs gone to a better place then why are you sad?â
The delaying tactic worked and stopped Elle in her tracks. She had been doing her best to put on a brave face but it would seem her false smiles had failed to fool her son for the last week so she didnât try now. âBecause I miss him,â she said, âbut Granddadâs gone to heaven to be with Nana. Heâs happy again.â
Charlieâs eyes widened as if his motherâs gentle words had been some kind of threat. âIt wouldnât make me happy. I donât want to go to heaven,â he whispered.
The fear in her little boyâs voice broke her heart. Despite his tender years he was all too aware of the frailties of life. Charlie had already had to watch his granddad slowly destroyed by grief after the death of his wife two years earlier. Harry hadnât been prepared to lose her and with good reason. He was ten years his wifeâs senior and had always assumed he would be the first to go but at sixty-one Anne had suffered a massive stroke and died six months later. Her devoted husband had been inconsolable and although Elle had willed her dad to fight, if not for his sake then for hers, he had gradually faded into the shadows where she couldnât reach him. They had buried him that morning, leaving her, his only child, bereft and alone.
âYouâre not going anywhere except to sleep, Charlie,â she said, adding a firmness to her soft voice as she stood on the threshold. The lamp outside on the landing cast thin fingers of light across the room towards Charlieâs spaceship-shaped bed which floated out of the darkness. Her intrepid astronaut had pulled his duvet cover up over his nose and tearful eyes sparkled in the gloom, beseeching her to stay. His reluctance to go to sleep was completely out of character and Elle could feel her resolve weakening although her warning glare gave nothing away.
âOK,â Charlie said with a sigh. âGoodnight, sleep tight.â
âDonât let the bed bugs bite,â she finished, closing the door while leaving a crack wide enough to peak through. She had to suppress a smile as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Naively she assumed he was trying to force himself to sleep but after a few seconds, he prised one eye open and then the other. Slowly, he began to peel away his covers and moved a leg as if to get out of bed.
Elle whipped the door open. âCharlie, go to sleep!â she said, now more amused than annoyed.
Charlie burst into tears. âI donât want to die,â he wailed.
The smile on Elleâs face froze. She rushed over and gathered him in her arms. She should never have agreed to take him to the funeral. At, six, he was too young, too sensitive. âYouâre not going to die, Charlie, I wonât let you,â she said calmly as she tried to reel in her growing anger.
âBut you didnât stop Granddad from dying,â Charlie cried, his small body shuddering in fear.
âGranddad was very sick and he died because his body was old and worn out. Youâre perfectly healthy and youâre going to grow up to be the tallest, most handsome and cleverest astronaut NASA has ever seen. I promise.â
It took five full minutes of gentle rocking before Charlie began to release his grip on her. His soft golden curls were sodden with sweat but exhaustion did what her soothing could not and by the time she was ready to make a second attempt to slip out of his room, sleep had found him.