The Life and Afterlife of Charlie Brackwood (The Brackwood Series Book 1) by Stacey Field

nail right on the proverbial head.  My biggest fear was of being forgotten.  Would I fade into the background of Lucy’s new, more exciting life?  There was no way of knowing and my questions would remain unanswered. 
    She had chosen to study Conservation Science at Bath University.  This information did not surprise me. A career in conservation was a good fit for her and I was glad she had chosen something she had such a passion for.  She cared so deeply for nature and wildlife that I couldn't imagine her wanting to do anything else. 
    She understood a career in conservation would never be particularly well paid and she knew that she would almost certainly never be rich, but she also knew that above all else she wanted a job that was so rewarding she wouldn't feel quite herself when she was away from it. 
    She wanted a job that was not just a career or a way to pay the bills, but something that was a huge part of her and made her a better person.  She once told me, years later, that she knew she loved her job because she often found herself skipping through the forest or just simply standing still, gazing up at the swaying pine trees.  There aren't many people who stop in wonderment to stare around them in their workplace.
    Lucy's journey to independence started in Bath, Somerset, two hundred and fifty miles away from her safety net of Yorkshire.  She would spend three years there, soaking up new information like rays of sunshine.  Bath University held so much promise for Lucy, but the days before her important journey began were fraught with anxiety.
    To my relief she came to see me the night before she was due to leave.  It was a late-September evening and I was checking on the flock one last time until the next morning.  A fog had slowly crept in, surrounding the village in a thick, cloud-like substance, and with it came a sharp chill.  I had already begun to wear my quilted, waterproof jacket on my nightly checks.  It offered some protection against the cold air.          
    The whole village was braced for the rainy season that is autumn in the stormy north of England.  Hence the reason some of the older villagers had taken to carrying an umbrella with them wherever they went, and why I was wearing a dashing pair of wellies that day.
    The fog acted like a shield.  I could barely see a few feet in front of me.  This made it very hard for me to make out the flock.  I had just completed a lap of the field when I saw a silhouette coming towards me.  I couldn't make out their face but I knew instantly who my visitor was by the way they moved. 
    Lucy was wearing jeans and a long, chunky jumper that dipped away slightly at the left shoulder to reveal her collarbone and soft, flawless skin.  The sleeves of the jumper were pulled down over her hands, a substitute for gloves.  Her hair was left free, and soft spirals fell around her face and shoulders.  She was makeup-free and her cheeks had turned pink with the cold.  Her appearance was fresh-faced and vital, but also innocent and vulnerable.  There were a few freckles lightly spattered across her small, perfect nose, a subtle suggestion that summer had visited the village.  I knew those freckles well enough to realise that they would be long gone by winter.
    "Looks like you have the same taste in footwear as I do, Luce," I said, looking down at her pink and purple wellies in a bid to avoid eye contact.  She followed my gaze and giggled as she stopped a few feet away from me.
    "Well, you know us country folks, we love our waterproofs,” she said light-heartedly. “At least your choice of colour is more manly.”
    I smiled at her.  A genuine smile, full of fondness and admiration.
    "What can I do for you?" I asked, looking straight in to her stormy green eyes.
    "Well... I just... I came... I mean…" She took a deep breath and clenched her fists as she stared up into the sky in exasperation and tried again.
    "This is my last night in the