Darren O’Sullivan - Close Your Eyes - A gripping psychological thriller with a killer twist!

‘Just a patient of mine. Terminal. He blamed me for him dying today.’

‘He’s just …’

‘I know, I know, he’s angry. He’s afraid. I know he didn’t mean it. But it’s still hard to hear.’

‘I bet.’

‘I’m sure he will be calmer tomorrow. He’ll probably apologize and then we can focus on making sure his transition is as dignified as possible.’

‘I don’t know how you do it.’

‘Sometimes I don’t know either. Speaking of which; how is Katie’s dad?’

‘No change really.’

‘Is she okay?’

‘I think she’s coming to terms with it now. I guess that’s all anyone can do right?’

‘Yes. Anyway, Thomas has just told me. I hear congratulations are in order?’

I couldn’t help but laugh and feel embarrassed. I hadn’t planned it enough in my head for it to be said out loud. I needed to know what Thomas felt before I let myself go that far. She read my mind. She often did.

‘He’s clearly happy about it.’

‘It seems so.’

‘So, when?’

‘I haven’t worked that out yet, soon. Are you all right with this?’

‘Of course. I’m really happy, Daniel. You deserve someone lovely.’

Rachael stepped towards me and gave me a hug, warm and safe. A hug that had changed in context, but never affection.

‘Thanks, Rach. Are you all good though?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Like I said, tomorrow is another day.’

‘It is indeed. Well, I’d better be off.’

‘I’ll see you out.’

Leaving the kitchen, Rachael followed. I leant into the living room where Thomas sat watching the start of Pixar’s Planes with Sean.

‘Bye, Sean.’

‘See you soon, Daniel. Congratulations again, you know, for when it happens.’

‘Thanks, mate. Bye, Thomas.’

‘Bye, Daddy,’ he said, unable to take his eyes off the screen.

‘Thomas, come and give your daddy a hug,’ said Rachael from the doorway.

‘Okay.’ He got up and wrapped himself in my arms. His hugs being the best part of any day.

‘I love you, little man.’

‘Love you too, Daddy.’

Putting on my coat I opened the door and turned back to Rachael, who crossed her arms as the cold air flooded in.

‘I mean it, Daniel. I’m really happy for you.’

‘Thanks, Rachael, it means a lot.’

‘She’s lovely. You two are really good together.’

‘Can I call later, to say goodnight to him?’

‘Of course you can. Are you two still coming on Sunday?’

‘Yep, we’re looking forward to it. Is there anything you want us to bring?’

‘A bottle of wine wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘That goes without saying.’

‘Then no, just you and Katie. Sean is doing dinner. God help us!’

‘I heard that!’ Sean shouted from the lounge, feigning hurt.

‘I’m in trouble now!’

‘Well, worst case, I’ll order us a takeaway.’

‘I heard that too, Dan! Have a little faith you two. I’m like Gordon Ramsay.’

‘I don’t doubt it,’ I shouted into the lounge.

‘Do you and Katie want to come over for about eight? If he hasn’t burnt the house down, of course,’ she said in a conspiring whisper, but still loud enough for Sean to call back that we were both so charming.

‘Eight sounds perfect. And not a word to Katie about … you know.’

‘Of course. When are you going to pop the question?’

‘Some time in the new year.’

‘I’m really happy for you, Dan.’

‘Thanks. See you Sunday,’ I said before calling out, ‘Bye, Sean. Bye, Thomas.

‘See you, mate.’

‘Bye, Daddy.’

I kissed Rachael on the cheek and walked back to my car, shielding my eyes as the setting sun blinded me and gave everything a soft orange glow. As I drove away, Thomas waving at me from the window, I let myself picture the moment I got down on one knee, imagining the look on Katie’s face. I couldn’t wait. 2018 was going to be a good year for us, for all of us. I could feel it.

Chapter 4

Daniel

Stamford

31 stDecember 2017, 7.44 p.m.

I sat on my bed fully dressed, waiting for Katie, aimlessly scrolling through the posts on my Facebook newsfeed and trying my best not to think about the dream that had startled me awake early this morning.

It was the same as usual. I was in a car. But I don’t know what kind, or where I was. It was dark. Bright lights of a large van or lorry blinded me, and then I was rolling over and over and over until I stopped upside down. Blood dripped from my head, pooling onto the sunroof. Someone was shouting. I tried to move but couldn’t; I was trapped. Panic began to bubble up in my throat as I fought against the constraints of the seatbelt. No matter how hard I tried to get out, I couldn’t. Just as I thought any hope of me getting out was gone, just as I had believed that I would die in the car, a hand reached in and dragged me out. I couldn’t see the person. They didn’t have a face, it was just a blur.

They pulled me far enough away from the car that I would be safe, talking to me, but I can never remember what they said. The car goes up in flames and I can feel the heat on my face, it is singeing the hairs on my arms as I’m still that bit too close. The person looks at me and tells me to run.

That was what usually happened in the dream, give or take. Sometimes I climbed out of the wreck. Sometimes I was the one in the van or lorry smashing into the car. But I was always bleeding, and someone was always talking to me in sentences I couldn’t process, except for that one word – ‘run’. Their voice sounded like they were screaming underwater. Last night’s had something new though – something I hadn’t dreamt before – but it was just on the edge of whatever held on to dreams and stopped them coming forward with clarity. I could almost touch it. However, try as I might, I couldn’t quite touch it. I’d been wracking my brain all day to work out what the new thing was, frustrated with myself for not being able to see it.

I desperately wanted to talk to Will about it. To have his professional mind analyse what I had seen, but it was New Year’s Eve and I couldn’t call him, it would be selfish. So instead, I clutched my hand to my phone to stop it from shaking.

My Facebook timeline was full of comments about how hard or wonderful or heart-breaking the year had been, and how 2018 was a fresh start. As clichéd as that was, I felt it too. At some point early into 2018 I was going to ask my girlfriend, who was meticulously applying her eyeliner, to be my bride. We would then probably plan our wedding and honeymoon. Maybe even begin talking about children. A brother or sister for Thomas. Life can change in a heartbeat, so the prospect of an entire year and what change would come was almost too exciting to digest.

‘I’m nearly done,’ Katie called out as she moved on to applying mascara.

‘No rush, darling, we’ve still got time,’ I replied, despite it being close to eight. She smiled at me through the wardrobe mirror and continued applying. I watched her in the glass. I loved the way she pouted whilst she stroked the mascara brush delicately upwards. And how she needed to lean back from the mirror after to look at her handiwork because she refused to wear glasses despite being slightly long-sighted. She caught me looking and I saw her cheeks blush a little, a smile spreading on her face.

‘What?’

‘Nothing, darling. I just like looking at you.’

‘You’re hopeless.’

She was right, I was hopeless and I didn’t care. Getting up I took the necklace that she was struggling to clasp under her hair and clipped it together. A delicate silver chain with a pearl attached. A gift from her father. Once it was secured I stepped closer and held her shoulder, placing a kiss on the space between her neck and collarbone. She smiled, but I could see a sadness in her eyes as she looked at the pearl.