Free Leave the Last Page by Stephen Barnard

between cases. I’m going to help you find Tom and Patty.’
    â€˜That’s great, but why?’
    Ben was holding the pages of Tom’s story. ‘I want to show you something. It was my son, Daniel, that put me on to this. I can’t get him off his computer and the internet, but for once it came in useful.’ He pointed to the slight oval smudge on the first page of the story. ‘See this? I know what did it. Your grandmother, Aisling Cleary, put her lips to the paper, but of course we knew that yesterday afternoon. What I’ve learnt since is that it was her last breath that she put into the page.’
    Alex was sceptical. ‘How can you possibly know that?’
    â€˜Daniel showed me a website last night:
lastbreath.com
. It subscribes to the theory – a theory I didn’t know even existed – that the final breath a person has contains a power that is very rarely channelled. In the past it’s been documented that if a person passed peacefully, observers felt that they could almost sense the deceased moving forward to heaven. More likely is that the final moment is the power of the last breath entering the room and then dissipating.’
    â€˜You expect me to believe that?’ said Alex. ‘What evidence is there?’
    â€˜The website had some case studies. One man in Colombia expelled his last breath via a kiss into his wife. The cancer she had that was efficiently killing her disappeared overnight. Another, a lady in Spain, blew onto the crucifix on her rosary beads and the metal has been too hot to touch ever since. A Russian boy was lying on one of his stuffed toys when he died; a cat I believe. Seems the toy came to life; the cat stayed with the family for twenty years.’
    â€˜That is absolutely ridiculous. Are you listening to this rubbish, Charlotte?’
    â€˜I am, Alex. What makes you believe in this so much, Ben?’
    â€˜There was another case study. A fellow in Ireland. Died with paper over his mouth, paper he’d been writing on. He’d written down all the wishes he had for his family, almost like it was the story he wanted for their lives. And guess what?’
    â€˜All their dreams came true!’ exclaimed Alex, mockingly.
    â€˜No,’ replied Ben, ignoring the scorn in Alex’s tone. ‘Not
their
dreams.
His
wishes. They weren’t all pleasant either. Some had nice things happen to them, financially, health-wise and such. A couple of others met untimely ends.’
    â€˜In accordance with his wishes,’ said Charlotte.
    Ben nodded. ‘That’s some last will and testament. Your grandmother was Irish, right?’
    Alex threw up his arms. ‘Oh I see! So she must have heard about this, is that it?’ He turned his back on the others and stared out of the window.
    Ben continued, undeterred. ‘I believe that your mother, knowing that your grandmother had moments left, arranged for her to breathe her last against the first page of your son’s story. It could have been either one’s idea, that I don’t know, but what is clear is that the events in your son’s story
are
happening. Patty and Tom aren’t making it happen – the tale is coming to life.’
    â€˜Giving our Tom the adventure he craves,’ added Charlotte.
    Alex turned round. ‘I see the parallels, yes. The broken fountain, other things, whatever. But my mother’s doing that, surely?’
    â€˜Your mother didn’t make us see those frogs yesterday-’
    â€˜-Coincidence-’
    â€˜-And your mother didn’t arrange for me to be chased by a pack of wolves last night, either. They disappeared in front of my eyes, but not before leaving dints and scratches on my car. Go outside and have a look if you like. I think if they had caught me they would have killed me. These story pages, Tom is leaving them on purpose. For you two. They’re his postcards. Helping you keep up with what