The Truth about Tomorrow (eBook)

Pamela Harju (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2017 | 1. Auflage
296 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-004048-0 (ISBN)

Infos

If you knew the time of your death, would you accept it or run?

When Kyle French's father and clairvoyant mother die in a car crash that he alone survives, the question haunts him. Through his grief and survivor's guilt, Kyle looks for answers and tries to heal with his remaining family.
A story about the choice of either running away from your problems or making the right decisions to carry on, Pamela Harju's debut novel is an emotional journey about coming of age and moving on even as your world collapses around you.
If you like strong characters, a distinctly Irish setting and a hint of the supernatural, buy THE TRUTH ABOUT TOMORROW and follow Kyle on his quest to find answers and happiness.
WriteIntoPrint's CAPTIVATING OPENING WINNER 2017!

Textauszug

CHAPTER 2

He woke up late the following morning. He had gotten up a couple of times since the previous afternoon, to grab something to eat or to just stretch his legs, but he hadn’t spoken to anybody. He hadn’t seen either of his sisters when he had been downstairs. They must have gone to take care of whatever needed to be done.

This time, Ciara was standing in the doorway and Wanda’s black face, going grey with age, was peeking over the edge of the bed.

“Donal’s here to see you,” Ciara said, tapping her leg to call Wanda away.

“Right.”

The pair disappeared from the room, and Kyle sat up on the bed. It was raining outside, and the room felt chilly. Nobody had bothered with the heating, let alone starting a fire. Their mother normally had a fire going during the day; she was old-fashioned like that.

Kyle made his way downstairs and found Donal sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. Kyle sat down where another mug of steaming tea was waiting, along with a bowl of cereal.

“She’s good to you, Ciara,” Donal said, with a nod towards the sitting room where the low sound of TV could be heard.

“Hmm,” Kyle said, getting stuck into the cereal. He realised he hadn’t brushed his teeth since the previous morning, and it started to become obvious. The cereal just didn’t taste right.

“I’m sorry about what happened, man,” Donal said. He looked completely out of place holding a flowery mug and trying to act all correct. He was more at home with a cold pint and having a laugh down the pub.

Kyle said nothing.

“I brought your bass back,” Donal said, nodding at the case leaning against the doorway. “I’m sure it’s all right. Tony played it Saturday night.”

Kyle gave Donal a quizzing look.

“You know we used to play in the same band, so with you gone, he jumped on board. He knew most of the songs anyway, we used to play some of mine together and he obviously knew the covers… Just made sense.” Donal shrugged his shoulders.

“He played instead of me?” Kyle could feel an unreasonable anger building up inside of him.

“Yeah. We didn’t want to cancel, and he was there. No biggie.”

“So, you replaced me, just like that?” Kyle clicked his fingers to make a point.

“It was just one gig,” Donal said with a frown.

“Just one gig,” Kyle mumbled back sarcastically before another spoonful of cereal.

“Although… We were thinking… Maybe it would be better if you took a break for a while. I mean, with everything that’s happened…”

“So, you’re kicking me out of the band now?”

“We’re not kicking you out,” Donal said, tracing the seams of the table with his index finger, “just giving you a break.”

“In other words, you’re kicking me out.” Kyle pushed the bowl away. He had lost even the little appetite that he’d had.

“Tony can cover for you for a while.”

“Fuck off!” Kyle stood up, his eyes blazing in Donal’s direction. “I don’t need a break. Tony can piss off!”

Donal looked up at him and started getting up from his seat.

“Fair enough then. I guess I’ll see you at rehearsals on Friday.” He started walking towards the front door.

“The funeral’s on Friday.” Kyle reached out to run his fingers through his hair, the way he did when he was upset, only to find that there was nothing there.

“Right. Well, the Friday after then.”

The door banged shut behind Donal. Kyle kicked at the guitar case on the floor and moved to put his unfinished tea and cereal in the sink. He badly needed a shower, a shave, a change of clothes. And a toothbrush.

* * *

The rest of the week passed painfully slowly, quietly. They ate the pizzas that Iris had brought, and the girls made an effort to cook chicken curry on Wednesday night. Come Thursday, the panic started to kick in with the funeral arrangements. Kyle kept well out of the way, his only effort being to advise Cassie to get caterers in to look after the food after the funeral.

There was to be no wake, much to the shock of some of the family and friends of Marcus and Maureen French. Ciara and Kyle didn’t want to see their parents laid out in their coffins. Ciara wanted to remember them the way they were in life, not in death, and Kyle didn’t think he would ever remember them as they were alive, the only image of his parents in his head being of the first few seconds after the crash, and of trying to get out of the car. One of the eye-witnesses in a newspaper article had said that he had been screaming, but he couldn’t remember that. All he seemed to remember was a deafening silence, as if he had been the only person alive in the whole world.

Cassie made what seemed a completely unnecessary fuss over what she was going to wear to the funeral as she had, in her haste to get over from London on hearing the news, not thought of packing anything black. Although her long-term boyfriend Rob was coming over Friday morning, Cassie didn’t trust him to bring appropriate clothes for her and spent hours around town with Ciara, looking for a black dress.

Cassie drove up to Dublin airport in their mother’s little car on Friday morning to collect Rob. Ciara was busying around the kitchen, dining room and sitting room, trying to get everything organised for the caterers. Mrs McKinley came over around 11 to help her, but she ended up sending Ciara upstairs to get dressed instead. Kyle spent the morning moping around, with a nervous Wanda following him wherever he went.

Cassie got back with Rob around half 11. Rob gave Kyle a sympathetic pat on the back. Kyle had never been fond of Rob. He was a bit of an oddball, with long, greasy-looking hair even when it was washed, and he was tall, lanky and ugly. In all honesty, Kyle had expected Cassie to do better.

About 15 minutes later everybody came back downstairs, dressed for the occasion. Rob had changed into a black suit that looked slightly creased after the journey. Cassie was dressed in her new dress and had wrapped herself up in a furry coat. Ciara looked small and young for her 17 years in her black clothes. Kyle felt like a right fool in his black trousers and plain black shirt. It had never occurred to him that he would have to go outside and wear a jacket. He grabbed his leather jacket as an afterthought on the way out the door, stuffing it under his arm on the way to the McKinleys’ SUV. Cassie would not approve of his leather jacket, but would hardly make a scene once they got to the church.

The funeral passed by in a blur. Afterwards, Kyle faintly remembered carrying his father’s coffin along with one of his uncles, his father’s older brother being too fragile to help. It started to rain when the coffins were lowered to their graves. He glanced around at that point, and everybody’s chin seemed to be hidden inside a scarf or high collar to keep away the cold. Everything around was black, except the white tissues that women kept pulling out of their handbags. Cassie wept loudly, with Rob trying to comfort her with his arm around her shoulders. Ciara, standing next to Kyle, cried silently and had no tissues.

A lot of people came over and offered their condolences. Kyle didn’t know half of them. Many of them were probably his father’s business acquaintances. Iris was among them and said she would drop by at the house. Eventually Kyle recognised Donal and a couple of his other mates in the crowd. They wisely kept their distance, because Kyle couldn’t see them being able to say anything that wouldn’t have been offensive or downright thoughtless.

Back at the house, the caterers had laid out what looked like a smorgasbord. There were sandwiches, casseroles, salads, salmon rolls, cheese, crackers. There was a lot of tea and coffee, and fruit juice for the few kids that were around. People had brought stuff to try to help them; ham, bags of coal for the fire, candles, fish, wine. As if they were going to run out of supplies just because their parents were gone.

Kyle realised halfway through the day that he had never reported back to his college after the weekend. It had never even crossed his mind, and he hadn’t bothered checking the messages on his phone. Time seemed to have been moving at a different pace for the last week. Once college did reach his mind though, through a mindless enquiry of one of his aunts, he couldn’t shake it off. Studies in creative media didn’t seem very important on the grand scale of things. He was halfway through the course and had enjoyed it up until then.

It seemed to be hours before the house was empty of people, including the caterers collecting their bits and pieces. Eventually it was just the three of them in the sitting room. Ciara was curled up in a recliner chair by the window, with her shoes on the floor and her feet stuck under her. For the first time all day, Cassie was alone without Rob and looked miserable on the two-seater. Kyle was sitting in a corner of the three-seater, staring at the fire that somebody, probably Moira from next door, had lit during the day. He glanced up at the clock on the mantelpiece. It was quarter to nine.

“Where’s Rob?” he asked. He didn’t know why he’d asked,...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 8.5.2017
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-004048-7 / 0000040487
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-004048-0 / 9780000040480