Whisper My Last Goodbye Read online

  WHISPER MY LAST GOODBYE

  KAREN WOODS

  EMPIRE PUBLICATIONS

  Although my heart is broken it keeps breaking every day...

  You, took my days with you...

  You, took my nights with you.

  In Memory of Darren Anthony Woods

  My Brother My friend, My Angel in the sky.

  I love you always.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Thank you so much to all my readers, your support is endless. Thank you to all my Facebook friends and Twitter, Instagram friends too.

  This year has been so challenging for me. When you lose someone you love I don't think your heart ever fully repairs. My brother Darren will never be far from my side and I know he will only be a whisper away. He will always be my baby brother and I know he will be shining bright where ever he is. I love you our kid.

  Thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me during these last few months.

  Thank you to my children; Ashley, Blake, Declan and Darcy I love you always.

  A big thank you to Rebecca Ryder for all her hard work. Thank you as always to Ashley Shaw and John Ireland for always believing in me.

  My last thank you goes to Craig McDaid for making me smile again. Thank you so much for always being there and making me believe in love again. You’re my fate, my destiny, my Prince Charming.

  Big Kisses to my son Dale in heaven, your Uncle Darren is with you now and I know he will watch over you.

  Always

  Karen Woods

  www.karenwoods.net

  @karenwoods69 Twitter

  CHAPTER ONE

  The cemetery was quiet today and just a few people were about, huddled near graves; they were loved ones, the people who couldn’t bear to say goodbye. There were parents begging for their children to come back to life and friends who couldn’t believe their mate had died. This place was so depressing and there was so much sadness there. It was a dreary setting for anyone to spend time in, for sure. Who, in their right mind, would spend hours here talking to dead people? They must be off their heads. The dead can’t hear you, they can’t answer back; it was pointless. Dark clouds hung low in the sky above, they seemed angry with the world. Dead flowers had been chucked in the bin nearby, this place was pure misery. The graveyard was full of people who were gone too soon; loved ones who’d suffered; infants who’d never seen their adult life; such tragedies all held inside this one place. Everybody who walked through the large black metal gates had lost someone they loved or cared for and the heartbreak was visible across their faces. It was such a sad place to visit, morbid.

  Harpur Murray zipped her coat up high and made her way to the grave she had visited nearly every week since the death of her younger brother. A bunch of red carnations held tightly in her grip, she held on to them as if her life depended on it as she trudged down the grey gravel path leading to his resting place. Taking a few deep breaths, she edged closer to his grave, nervously twitching. Scared she would break down crying again. This walk never got any easier, no matter how many times she came here. Taking a deep breath, she held a flat palm over her aching heart and moved closer through the thick brown mud, feet sinking low with every step she took. The weather had been bad lately and rain had fallen here for the last few days. Large puddles of brown, muddy, water trickled past her feet. Manchester had never had the best weather in the country and today was no different. They say it’s grim up north - and they’re probably right. The sunshine was never seen here for months on end. There was an eerie silence and nothing but a small gust of wind could be heard whispering past her ears. The fine blonde hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, goose pimples ran down her arm. She rubbed them quickly and tucked a long strand of hair behind her ears so she could see properly. Harpur swallowed hard and bent down low. Her eyes clouded over and it took a few seconds for her to compose herself. She needed to pull herself together, to come and say what she had to. Her fingers gripped the brown, gritty soil at the side of her, squeezing at it, her knuckles turning white with the anger that stuck in her throat. She hated that her brother was lying buried beneath her. Licking her dry cracked lips, she glided her tongue across her cold lips.

  “Are you alright our kid?” Her nostrils flared slightly as she continued. “Nothing really much to tell you today, just the usual boring stuff. But ay, I just thought I’d call anyway to see how you are.” She brushed her fingertips along the shiny black headstone, touching every word engraved there. A single fat bulky tear trickled down the side of her cheek, just like it always did when she came here. Harpur’s eyes focused on her sibling’s photograph to the left of the headstone and she closed her eyes slowly, as if someone was stabbing a sharp blade deep into her heart. His face, his memory, it was all so raw. She sat down and dug deep into her coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette. With a quick flick of the lighter, she sucked hard on the fag, trying to calm herself. Her hands were trembling slightly. A thick cloud of grey smoke circled around her as her cheeks sank in at both sides. Her eyes focused on the brown soil at the side of her legs. Her palm resting softly on the top of it, she whispered in a soft, calming tone. “It’s alright for you Brady isn’t it, but what about us, what are we supposed to do without you? You’re a selfish bastard, didn’t you ever think what this would do to us?” A black jackdaw hopped near the graveside and just froze as if it was watching her. She turned her head slowly and gawped at it. Her head dipped slightly to one side, then the other. She whistled over to the bird to try and get it to come closer. “Is that you Brady? Have you come back as a bird? If it is, just do something so I know it’s you. Squawk, bounce about, just do something?” Harpur watched the bird with eager eyes in the vain hope that it would talk back to her, to do something different to show her that her brother was still by her side. But the bird was silent. It didn’t make a sound. Her feathered friend flew away and left her with a blank expression and a heavy heart.

  Brady’s death had hit Harpur Murray hard and no matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t let go of the time they’d spent together. She kept reliving the memories, the time he’d spent on this earth. This was so hard, she’d known him from birth, he had always been in her life, from the cradle to the grave. Her fingers played with the petals from the flowers in the black pot near where she sat. She’d bought it a few weeks ago and the gold writing on the front of it read “My Dear Brother.” Harpur checked around the surrounding area and made sure nobody was listening to her. This was her time, her heartfelt words. “My mam is heartbroken you know, our kid. She’ll never get over this. Why did you leave her, she’s lost without you.” She swallowed hard and stretched her eyes open wide, trying to stop the tears from gushing from her eyes. “Our Pat had a cushion made out of your shirt and all my mam does is sit there holding the daft bleeding thing all day and all night long. You know which one it is?” She closed her eyes and she could see the garment right there in her memory bank. It was as clear as daylight. “It’s the one I bought you for Christmas, the red checked one. You looked smart in it too, didn’t you? You always scrubbed up well when you wanted to.” Harpur was getting angry now. Her fingers tightened and the two round balls were resting on her lap, knuckles turning white. “We said it was me and you forever, how could you leave me, just like that. I would never have left you. I need you back here with me, please come back Brady. This time, things will be different I promise you. I just need to hold you. To tell you everything is going to be alright.” Harpur smashed her fist into the ground and her nostrils flared as her eyes clouded over. “We could have worked this out, you could have got help. You know I’d never give up on you. You’re a selfish bastard, nothing else. You left me when I needed you most. You left us al
l. Who am I going to talk to now? You understood me, you always knew when something was wrong. I’m alone now. I just want you to come back. Please, come back.”

  Harpur sat sobbing with her head held in her hands, her shoulders shaking. Anyone who was listening to her would have thought she’d lost the plot. Why on earth was she talking to a grave? Nobody was listening. Her tone changed and her voice was soft and gentle, animated. She dabbed the cuff from her jacket into the corner of her eyes, soaking up the tears. “Is heaven nice? Are you with people you know? I’ve asked you lots of times to show me you are still with me and all I keep finding is daft bleeding white feathers. I want something more Brady. I need to know you’re alright, safe. I can’t sleep since you’ve been gone and everything reminds me of you. Daft songs on the radio, things on the television. I even thought I saw you in the street the other day. I chased some bleeding man thinking it was you. I swear Brady, he was your double. He had a blue cap on like you and even the shape of him was you. It’s doing my head in now, you need to help me. I can’t do this anymore. People think I’m fine, but I’m not. I’m hurting brother. Please take the pain away. I can’t cope. I just want to feel normal again.”

  This woman was heartbroken, the poor soul needed to go now. Why on earth was she putting herself through this misery every week? Harpur looked around her. There were still a few people about in the cemetery in the distance, changing flowers, washing headstones, sobbing. She lifted her head up slightly and shot a look over at a man who was sat nearby at a graveside. He too was sat down on the ground and by the looks of him, he was having a hard time just like she was. Death was so final; there was no second chance, no time to say goodbye. Harpur closed her eyes tightly and the life she’d shared with her brother started to come back. Quickly, shaking her head, she gripped the ground and stopped the visions she could see forming in her mind. It was too painful, heart wrenching. She couldn’t face it, she needed to blank it out, let it go, walk away. Whatever had gone on in her life, she was trying to forget it, run away from it and never face it again. Harpur’s windpipe tightened and her breathing was strained. The colour drained from her and she was as white as a sheet. Jumping up to her feet, she bent over and clutched her knees tightly, starting to suck in large mouthfuls of fresh air, stamping her feet, walking around in a circle. She was having a full-blown panic attack.

  Breathe, breathe, relax, stop stressing. Do what the doctor told you to do.

  She was calming down now, she was back in control. Harpur looked at her brother’s resting place one last time and started to edge towards the footpath. She was in a bad way and needed to get some fresh air in her lungs. Her palms were hot and sweaty and small droplets of sweat had formed on her forehead. She needed to leave before she collapsed. With a quick sign of the cross across her body, she left the cemetery in a hurry.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Let’s be clear here girls. Marriage is like a piece of steak. I know we all love a bit of meat, but no matter how much you try to disguise it, it will always be the same piece of bleeding steak.” Bridget was drunk and she was waffling. Her words were slurred as she continued. Her expression was serious as she held everyone’s attention. “Why do you think I carted Gary Jacobs after all them years. Go on, tell me that girls!” she shot her eyes around the table looking at her friends, pointing her finger, waiting on any of them to make a comment. None of them dared, they all remained silent. They knew better than that, they all kept schtum. Bridget flicked her hair back over her shoulder and snarled over at them. “I’ll tell you why shall I? Because, it was the same every bleeding night. I hated the guy in the end, that’s no word of a lie, he made me cringe. It wasn’t his fault, it was mine. I just needed something more that’s all.” Bridget was drunk and she was getting angry with herself, regretting the years she’d wasted with different men.

  Harpur chuckled and swigged a mouthful of her wine. “You have a way with words you do Bridget. I just think me and Neil are just going through a bad patch that’s all. We’ll sort something out, we always do. Stop stressing me out about it all. I’m out tonight for a good time, not to listen to you moaning about stuff. Just change the record and let’s have a laugh like we always do.”

  Bridget shook her head slowly and ran her finger slowly around the top of her glass. She had a mischievous look and the corners of her mouth began to rise slowly. “You need a bit of fun you do. Someone to make you feel alive again. If I’m putting my cards on the table here, Neil’s a boring old fart, he always has been. You know he never deserved you, don’t you?” Harpur rolled her eyes and got herself ready for the lecture that was coming next. Friday night with the girls usually ended up like this and Bridget was always the same when she’d had a few too many drinks. She was always trying to put the world to rights. The other girls moved away from the table, aware that Bridget was on one. Doom and gloom was the last thing they needed tonight. They wanted to dance, snog a random stranger, get pissed. Anything but listen to the same old story about how they should all wait about for Mr Right. This was old news to them; same shit, different day.

  Bridget held her head to the side and licked her bottom lip slowly. She knew what she was doing and didn’t care who was listening. “Neil was a rebound love, nothing more and nothing less. He was there when you were low and needed fixing that’s all. I’ve told you this a hundred times before, he was punching above his weight with you and you know it. Why do you think he couldn’t wait to get a wedding ring on your finger?” She sucked hard on her gums and stared directly at Harpur. She hunched her shoulders and held her hands out in front of her. “Come on, am I the only one who’s being totally honest here tonight? Let’s face the facts and tell it like it is, cut the bullshit for once in your life and be honest. I’m your best friend. Don’t even dare to try and lie to me. Neil is boring and never in a million years would you have looked at him if you weren’t on the rebound from that bleeding lunatic you was with. He was the safe card that’s all. Come on, admit it.”

  This was a bit strong, over the top and none of her business really. Bridget bent forward and held her ear to the side waiting on an answer. Harpur was on the spot and had to say something quickly before this got out of hand. She knew how to handle her, she tried her best to shut her up. “Listen, I love Neil. Okay, he’s not my usual type but he was there when I needed someone and, I owe it to him to be a good wife. I have to make him happy. You’re forgetting he fixed me when I was broken. And,” she raised her eyes and her expression was serious, “I was a mess. You know that more than anyone. So please, stop going on about the past for crying out loud and give me a break will you?”

  Bridget let out a laboured breath and flicked invisible dust from her shoulder. “What! You owe him nothing! You’ll be miserable for the rest of your life if you carry on like this. I can’t believe you sometimes. You need to face the facts. He’ll never be the one who makes you happy. You should just divorce the prick and find somebody who gives you butterflies. The one, the love of your life. You know, the man you always spoke about when we were growing up. The man who made your heart beat faster, took your breath away. Have you forgotten about him ay?”

  Harpur was losing patience now. She was sick to the back teeth of listening to this bullshit. After all, this was her husband she was talking about, the man she married, for better or for worse, till death do us part. She had to fight her corner, stand up for herself. “Bridget, you need to look at your own life before you start going on about mine. I never tell you what to do or who to date, do I? No, I just let you plod on and say nothing. Perhaps I should start getting busy on your life too. You’re not perfect you know, far from it if I’m being honest with you.”

  Bridget let out a sarcastic laugh as she started to fill both their glasses up with more wine. This was water off a duck’s back to her. So what, she’d had a few men in her life. And she’d messed up big time but her point was she would never settle for second best. Here she was again, chipping away at her best friend. �
�I’ve made loads of mistakes love. Why do you think I’m still on my own? I’m like you. Or like you used to be when you were younger should I say. I want to find that special someone, the love of my life. The man of my dreams. He’s out there somewhere. I just haven’t found him yet. So, put that in your pipe and smoke it.” Harpur knew she was fighting a losing battle and never in a million years would she ever win an argument with Bridget when she had a bee in her bonnet. This debate would go on for hours now if she didn’t agree with her, she just wanted the conversation about her married life to end, she’d heard enough. Harpur sat twiddling her thumbs, there was nothing more to say, she was deflated. But the truth was there for everyone to see, her friend was right. She’d hit the nail right on the head. Harpur was unhappy, she was stuck in a rut. Bridget could see she’d upset her and she reached over and ran her fingers through her long dark hair, regretting that she’d been so harsh with her words. Harpur had such lovely blue eyes, enchanting they were. Bridget had seen these eyes so full of tears over the years and her heart went out to her. Okay, perhaps she’d been a bit too open with her opinions and she should have kept her mouth shut but sometimes she just couldn’t help it. It was just the way she was. She was her own worst enemy. Bridget let out a laboured breath, aware now that she’d overstepped the mark. “I’m sorry love. It just frustrates me to see you just plodding on every day. I know you’re not happy. I can see it in your eyes. I’m sorry alright. I just get a bit carried away sometimes. You know me, I’m a passionate woman. Shoot me for even caring about you.”

  Harpur hung her head and spoke quietly. “There is no need to say it in front of everyone else though. This is private stuff between us two. I don’t want the world and his wife knowing my business. I’ll sort myself out. I’m just a bit low at the moment. You know I always bounce back. Just give me time. It’s just our Brady death, it’s done me in. I can’t focus anymore. Every bleeding day is as hard as the last. When will it ever get any better? Go on, tell me when will I ever feel normal again and stop crying all the time.”