Revival (Johanna's story with Luke Hemmings)

Chapter 57

57.
I follow him back to his place and park out the front on the road, while he drives into the double attached garage.  I don't move from my seat, and he strolls back out the garage door and over to my car. 

"Come in with me Jo ...Mum's not here.  She's gone to the market with my aunty.  She sent the text before."

I open the door and step out, then follow him as he turns to go back in through the garage door.  A long, dark hallway heads off from it.  We pass a bedroom and I glance in briefly to see clothes strewn everywhere, a guitar in one corner and a poster of maybe a Pontiac on the wall.  I know it must be Luke's room, and it's another reality check about how young he is. 

He leads me down to a small, open living area and then steps around an extension of the kitchen bench to open drawers on the other side and start rifling through them, explaining that he can't remember where he's put the other car keys.  He drops from view as he squats down to look closer into a bottom drawer. 

I wander across past the dining room table to look out the window onto their backyard, but my attention is grabbed by a large photograph on the wall as I pass.  I recognise Luke straight away, standing with his back to the ocean on a beach somewhere with his whole family, even though he must only be ten or eleven years old.  I step closer and start to focus in on him more, but my eyes suddenly flick to the man standing behind him, with his hand on Luke's shoulder and his arm around a very different, strikingly younger-looking Jacqui. 

My brows knit and I shake my head as I step closer still.  "What the hell..."  Confusion suddenly swirls through my head like a tornado making touchdown with the land.  The man looking back at me looks exactly like Matt.  He's even smiling in the same lop-sided way and standing with his feet far apart like I recall Matt so often did.  I can't even get my thoughts together. 

Luke has stood up again and is looking over at me, "Huh?"

I spot another smaller picture in a frame, sitting on top of an entertainment unit across the other side of the room, and walk over to it quickly.  I pick it up and there he is again.  This time my stomach drops and I almost feel like my legs are about to buckle beneath me.  He's wearing the paisley shirt that I found for him in an op shop, when we were going to a dress-up party as hippies.  It was meant for one night, but he continued to wear it for years afterwards, despite otherwise being pretty conservative with clothes.  It is just him and Jacqui this time, sitting really close on a couch and grinning at each other. 

I study the details of his face and there can be no mistake.  Even though this photo is much smaller, I can still make out the scar through the outer corner of his left eyebrow, from when he fell off a trampoline or something as a kid. 

Luke's voice eventually breaks through the turmoil in my head.  "Jo... Jo, what is it?"  He's right beside me looking confused.

"Is this... your Dad?"  My voice is faltering and doesn't even sound like it belongs to me. 

"Yeah - that was quite a few years ago now."  His forehead is crinkled.  "What... did you know him?"

My heart suddenly bangs in my chest like it's knocking furiously on my ribs wanting to get out.  What the fuck am I supposed to say?  I have to just tell him, but I can't even think straight about any way to say it, that might lessen the shock.  There isn't a way.  I don't even know what else it is that I'm actually feeling right now, but it is all overwhelming. 

"These pictures ...it's Matt, my husband ...it's definitely him.  I know the scars and that shirt and..."  I look up at Luke's face and he's looking at me like I've gone crazy.

"What are you talking about?"

I know he doesn't believe me yet, but my mind is already moving on and I'm kind of thinking aloud now - "He was always away a lot for work ...I thought... except for the last few years after he got sick.  God, I never did actually meet any of his relatives.  He said they were all in the UK."  My head already aches from the multitude of thoughts and questions invading all at once.

I shake myself from it and look back at Luke's bewildered expression.  I suddenly remember the photo in my purse, which is out in the car.  "I'll show you" I say quickly, and head for the front door, then down the path and back to my car.  I don't even look to see if Luke is following, but he is right behind me when I turn again after grabbing my purse from the passenger seat. 

My hands are shaking so much that I fumble around trying to slide the photo from a back pocket.  I had a phase some months back, where I decided I needed to remove the photos and reminders of him from all around me.  I think I hoped it might dull some of the feelings of loss.  I put any photos at home away in a drawer out of sight, and relegated this one to the back of my purse, but obviously didn't forget about it.  I finally slide it out and pass it to Luke, without saying anything. 

He looks at me for a moment, and then down at the photo in his hand.  I watch him for what feels like several minutes as he examines the photo.  It's one of my favourite shots of Matt, taken close up when he wasn't expecting it, while walking in the park.  Everything kind of hits me again as I see the recognition and realisation dawning on Luke's face.  I know that he is identifying his father as well.  He goes really pale and doesn't say anything. 

"What was his name? ...What did you call him?" I ask, breaking the silence.

Luke's expression is maybe one of some annoyance - like it's a dumb, insignificant question.  Perhaps it is. 

"James" he eventually mutters.

"That was his middle name... or that's what he told me."

Luke looks like his mind is racing now too, "Same ...for Matthew."  He shakes his head and rubs at his temple, "So ...he's dead."  He pauses, "Shit, he said he was sick before he left, but I never really believed him.  I thought it was just some lame excuse."

Oh hell, I can't believe it hadn't fully occurred to me that Luke wasn't just finding out about this bizarre connection between us, and his father's deceit, but he was also learning of his father's death.  Guilt for my selfishness is another emotion to add to the mix.

"I'm so sorry ...I wasn't even thinking..."

Luke just keeps talking, "Fuck, I don't get it.  He had some double life going on for years?"    

"I don't know... Yeah I guess."  I'm suddenly confronted by the lies he must have told; this person that I trusted more than practically anyone else in the world.  Bile rises in my throat as it feels like everything I ever knew with him, is crumbling and fake.  Luke looks shell-shocked and I feel like I might actually vomit at any moment ...or faint ...or I don't know what.  I don't have a clue what to say to him and I feel like anything could make it all even worse.

"I have to go" I blurt out, starting to get into the car again.  "I'm sorry... I don't know what to say.  I just can't handle anymore.  I'll um..."  I pause briefly and shake my head, "I'm sorry."  I flick the key round in the ignition and pull it into drive without putting my seatbelt on.  Thankfully the street is deserted and I can drive off straight away.