‘I need to find my treasure. And that letter. I’m waiting for them.’ Ida’s voice carried on the breeze.
‘You are not!’ Jacks screamed. ‘You are not! Just like I’m not waiting for a blonde stranger to come and take me away from the shit, you are not waiting for a letter! Do you understand?’
Ida twisted round to face her daughter. She was crying. ‘Toto?’
‘I can’t do this any more. I can’t.’ Jacks spoke into the darkness. ‘I’m so tired and everything feels so hopeless.’ She sobbed as she moved the chair forward an inch. Loose stones clattered off the edge of the path and down the cliff face below. ‘I’ve got nothing to cling to. Nothing. It’s like I’m floating, rootless, homeless. My life punctuated by that bloody bell! I can’t do it any more. I can’t. And I don’t want to let Dad down. I tried, Dad, I really did.’
Jacks drew back her arm and closed her eyes. With all the force she could muster, she lunged forwards. She stood back and listened to the sound of metal pinging and bashing against the rocks until there was nothing. Silence.
Sinking down on to the damp ground, she breathed deeply and calmly before giving way to tears. She slid further down on to the hard gravel, where she lay in the dark on the cold cliff edge. With her face pressed against the ground, she felt the sharp bite of stones against her cheek. ‘What do I do now? What on earth do I do now?’ she cried into the darkness.
Nearly two hours later, she opened the front door on Sunnyside Road to find Pete standing in the hall.
‘There you are! I was getting really worried. Where on earth have you been? It’s late. I kept trying your phone until I realised you’d left it on the kitchen table.’
Jacks shrugged, staring at her husband, unable to find the words and feeling too weak to converse.
‘Come on, Ida,’ Pete continued. ‘Why don’t I take you through for your tea? You must be starving. I’ve made fish fingers. Kitchen looks like an explosion in a food factory, but the food tastes good.’
He took the handles of his mother-in-law’s wheelchair and steered her along the hallway. ‘I’ll see to your mum, Jacks. Why don’t you go and have a lie down?’
Jacks stared at him with a blank expression on her face.
‘Don’t worry, love, it’s all okay. All I want to do is help you, look after you. We are on the same team, remember? I’ll get Ida settled and she can ring if she needs anything. Take your time.’
‘She can’t ring, actually.’
‘Why not? Where’s her bell?’
‘At the bottom of the Avon Gorge.’
Jacks climbed wearily up the stairs and collapsed into bed. As she pulled the duvet over her head, welcoming the dark escape it offered, she pictured Ida’s tear-stained face. ‘God, I’m so sorry, Mum,’ she whispered, overcome with guilt at the thought that she might have frightened her mum. She decided to try extra hard tomorrow to make it up to her.
22
Nineteen Years Earlier
‘Next!’ The receptionist shouted into the crowded room of the Health Centre.
Jacks looked at the number on the board. She’d be the next to go in. She placed her Walkman headphones over her ears and pressed play, letting the soothing sounds of her mix-tape take her away. She smiled as D-Ream’s ‘Things Can Only Get Better’ played loudly in her ears. Ain’t that the truth…
As she sat practising what she needed to say and how she might say it, praying she’d get one of the female doctors, the door opened. She glanced up and was horrified to see Pete Davies limp in, looking nonchalantly around for an empty seat.
‘Shit,’ she muttered under her breath, sinking down as far as possible into the orange plastic chair and wishing she’d brought a book with her so she could bury her head in it. He did a double-take as he spotted her, lifting his hand in a hesitant wave. She cringed. The last time they’d been alone together was when they’d snogged on the dancefloor of Mr B’s.
‘All right, Jacks?’ He lowered himself into the chair beside her, keeping his right leg straight as though it was splinted. He was as usual wearing a tracksuit.
She pressed pause on her machine and lowered the headphones so they sat round her neck. ‘How’s your knee? I heard you’d damaged it.’ She felt her cheeks colour, unsure if mentioning it was the right or wrong thing to do.
‘It’s knackered.’ He sighed, patting the thigh of his damaged leg.
‘Will it get better?’
Pete laughed and shook his head, as though even saying the words required the disguise of humour just to make it bearable. ‘Nope. I’ve done the ligaments and it’s a weakness, apparently. I’m having physio, but that’s just to get me walking properly.’
‘What you gonna do?’
He looked her in the eyes for the first time. ‘I don’t know, but I know what I’m not gonna do and that’s play football, not for Bristol City anyway. I might get a game with a smaller club – it’s too soon to tell how my leg’ll shape up.’
Jacks searched for the right words. ‘It’s only a game, though. Right?’
‘Next!’ The woman’s voice boomed from behind the receptionist’s desk.
‘Oh! That’s me. See you, Pete.’ She gave a small smile as she stepped over his extended leg and made her way into the doctor’s room, trying desperately to look as if she was popping in to discuss a minor ailment and not the fact that her whole world was crashing down around her.
The next day as she walked home along the seafront, taking the long route and enjoying the fresh air, which helped clear her head, she spotted Pete sitting on one of the benches.
‘You stalking me?’ he asked as she sat down next to him.
She laughed. ‘No, although you’d be quite easy to stalk, seeing as you can’t run away at the moment.’
‘Good point.’ He smiled and patted his leg. ‘You feeling better now?’
‘What?’ She looked up.
‘You were at the doctor’s? I just wondered if you were feeling better?’
‘Oh.’ She hid her relief: no one was talking, no one knew. ‘Yep. Thanks.’
The two sat and stared at the water, strangely comfortable in the silence that cocooned them. Neither of them felt the need to fill the quiet with banal conversation.
It was Pete who eventually broke the silence. ‘I was thinking about what you said.’
‘When?’
‘You said it’s just a game. But you were wrong,’ he whispered.
‘I was?’ She tried to find his thread.
‘You said it as though it didn’t matter – football.’ He ran his fingers up and down the open zip of his tracksuit top.
She nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
‘But it’s more than that. More than that for me. It’s the one thing that I am better at than anyone else. It’s the one thing I love. And it was going to make me enough money to have a really great life. And now it’s gone, all of it.’
Jacks twisted her body until she was facing him, sitting sideways on the bench. ‘I’m sorry, Pete. I wasn’t being funny. I didn’t know what to say to you.’
To her horror he started to cry. He pushed his fingers into his eye sockets to try and stem the flow. It didn’t work. His tears trickled out regardless. She edged closer to him, placed her hand on his back and patted him as if she were consoling a small child.
‘Don’t tell anyone,’ he mumbled, his voice strained with emotion.
She wasn’t sure if he was referring to his injury or his tears. ‘I won’t. I promise.’
He took a deep breath and threw his head back, trying to compose himself, sniffing and wiping his eyes, mortified by his outburst.
‘I’ve got a secret too,’ she whispered.
‘What is it?’
‘You can’t tell anyone.’
‘I won’t,’ he said with sincerity.
‘I’ve got myself into a bit of a mess.’
‘What kind of mess?’ he asked softly.
She nodded. ‘I’m having a baby.’
‘
Fucking hell!’ he gasped.
‘Yep, fucking hell.’ She sighed. ‘I haven’t told anyone, not even Gina. I don’t know why I told you, but now that I have, I feel a bit better.’
‘Who’s the dad?’ Pete sat up straight.
‘Sven.’ His name stuck like pins in her throat.
‘No way! I didn’t know you two were…’ He shuffled on the bench.
‘Well, yes, we were, we did, once or twice, that’s all,’ she admitted, as if her pregnancy wasn’t proof enough.
‘Hasn’t he moved to America?’
Jacks nodded and it was her turn to cry.
‘Jesus, will you look at us, sitting here crying! What are we like!’
‘We’re a bloody shambles!’ Jacks smiled through her tears.
‘Don’t cry, Jacks,’ he said gently. ‘These things have a funny way of working out.’
She looked up at him and blew her nose on a tissue. She really, really hoped he was right.
23
Placing the basket on her mum’s lap, Jacks pushed open the doors of the supermarket with the small front wheels of the chair.
‘Here we go, Mum. What do you fancy for tea? I was thinking I might do gammon with a pineapple ring on top – you like that, don’t you?’ She was determined to make it up to her mum after the scare she’d put her through the night before. ‘Used to be Dad’s favourite, didn’t it? With chips and ketchup on the side. Think I’ll do that.’
She slowly perused the aisles, scanning for the red labels indicating that something was heavily discounted or on a two-for-one offer; whatever it was, she would buy it regardless and then find a way to incorporate it into her menu. Over the years this had resulted in some rather interesting combinations: her hot-dog pasta and custard with meringues were both still legendary. On a normal day these recollections would make her laugh, but not today. Not when her heart was still beating too fast for comfort and her whole body seemed suffused with sadness. She couldn’t get out of her head the image of Allison’s face, chatting merrily about Gideon and his love of kids.
‘Jacks?’
She turned to see Lynne walking towards her, with Caitlin-Marie waddling along by her side. The girl wore black leggings that were stretched so thin over her bump and thighs that her knickers and protruding belly button were visible; she looked like she was about to pop.
‘How are you?’ Lynne was her usual lively self. She turned her attention to Ida. ‘Hello, Mrs Morgan!’
Jacks smiled. ‘We’re great, thanks. Wow, Caitlin, look at you! You look well. How much longer?’
‘Any day.’ Caitlin-Marie, morose as ever, rubbed at her swollen stomach and sighed. ‘Just want it to come out now.’
Lynne giggled. ‘I’ve told her, just you wait till it is out, then you’ll be wishing you could pop it back in! You’ll never have a moment’s peace! Worth it, though. I can’t wait.’ She bobbed on the spot.
Jacks stared at Caitlin’s bump and tried to imagine Martha looking the same way. She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat.
‘Our Ashley called last week. She’s in the Dominican Republic, wherever that is! Staying with her friends in an all-inclusive resort, on a break from the cruise. I said to her, it must be a hard life, if you need to go to an all-inclusive resort to have a break from a cruise! Half her luck!’ Lynne roared.
Jacks stared at Lynne and remembered Ashley Gilgeddy, who only last year had got into a fight on the pier and been arrested. Who had got an illegal tattoo when she was sixteen; who had fluffed her one line in the Nativity play. This was the girl who was seeing the world.
‘You all right, Jacks? You look a bit pale,’ Lynne said, sounding concerned. ‘Must be the shock.’ Lynne hesitated, as if expecting Jacks to say something. ‘How is Martha? Is she coping?’
Jacks felt her legs shake as she again pictured Gideon’s chirpy mother. Lynne knew, everyone knew. ‘She’s fine,’ she said as her cheeks flamed and her shoulders sagged.
It hit her all of a sudden that she’d always seen her family – her girl – as being a cut above the rest. That knowledge had been like a secret, a secret that allowed her to walk with her head held high, shoulders back and a confident smile on her face. What was the phrase… Pride comes before a fall? Well, she had certainly fallen. She was now so low that she didn’t know how she was going to get up again. Or even if she could.
‘Give her our love, won’t you? Tell you what,’ Lynne gushed, ‘when the babies are here, we can take them for walks on the pier, a couple of grannies together!’ She laughed. ‘We’ll have to get those pack-away plastic hats and sit over a cuppa for hours while we split a tea cake, eh, Jacks?’
Jacks tried to laugh but couldn’t. Instead, she turned her mother’s chair and walked briskly in the opposite direction, towards the exit, desperate for some fresh air. It was only when a strong, masculine hand gripped the top of her arm that she realised where she was.
The man’s voice was loud, threatening. ‘Can I ask you to step back inside the store, madam?’
She looked up into the face of the burly security guard with the heavy Eastern European accent and saw him eyeing the basket of shopping that sat on her mother’s lap.
‘Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t going to run off. I just needed some air. I’ll come in and pay for it now.’
‘So you are aware you left the store without paying?’ he asked, unsmilingly. The peak of his cap was pulled low, covering his eyebrows.
‘Yes! But I’ll be straight back in. I just need a minute.’ She smiled, trying to shrug her arm free.
The security guard, whose shiny name badge said ‘Mateusz’, grabbed his radio and called for back-up.
Jacks snorted her laughter. ‘You are not serious? Oh, for God’s sake! What do you think I’m going to do? Leg it with my mum in a wheelchair and make off with a tin of pineapple rings and a box of sponge fingers?’
Mateusz didn’t appear to be listening. Jacks was rendered speechless as he held her arm and marched her back into the store. She was vaguely aware of Lynne and Caitlin watching, standing next to the guy with the dreadlocks from the fish counter, his mouth agape.
Gina pulled the car up outside the Davies’ house. ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’
‘No.’ Jacks shook her head. ‘We’ll be fine. Thanks for picking us up.’
‘It’s okay, mate. Anytime. At least I didn’t have to bail you out.’
‘Christ, I hope there will never be another time. I’m so embarrassed.’ Jacks sniffed.
‘It was obvious the manager could see it was just a misunderstanding,’ Gina said. ‘I once got home and realised I’d left a box of beer in the trolley and hadn’t paid for it. I usually get the girl to lean over with her little gun thing if something is too heavy to lift, but I must have forgotten.’
‘Did you go back?’
‘Did I buggery!’ Gina laughed.
‘Did you see the way Lynne looked at me?’ Jacks stared at her lap. ‘Everyone will know.’
‘So? Who cares?’
‘I care, G. What will I say to Pete?’
‘Tell him what happened. It was a stupid mix-up and if old what’s-his-name the security guard hadn’t been quite so keen to get a merit point, we’d have all got home a lot sooner. Don’t worry about it.’
‘They asked me to find another store to shop in.’ Jacks’ lip quivered at the humiliation.
‘Well, that’s their bloody loss. I shan’t be going there again, that’s for sure!’ Gina sounded indignant. ‘That will see their sales of Jaffa Cakes and white wine take a tumble. I shall definitely be stealing my beer from elsewhere and they have no one to blame but themselves!’
Jacks tried to raise a smile. ‘Suppose you’ve heard about Martha?’
‘Yep.’ Gina nodded. ‘This is a small seaside town, where word travels fast due to lack of anything else of interest going on. In fact the word was probably out shortly after he’d rezipped his fly, if that Stephanie Fletcher had anything to do with it.�
��
‘Gina!’
‘What? It’s the truth.’ Gina sighed. ‘I’m only trying to cheer you up, mate. Is she okay?’
‘I don’t know. I think we’re all in shock.’
‘That’s understandable. You know where I am when you want to talk about it.’
‘Thanks, G.’ Jacks climbed from the car and opened the hatchback to retrieve her mum’s wheelchair.
‘I will say this, though,’ Gina shouted across the back seat. ‘If you are planning on upgrading your life of crime to, say, bank robbing, let me know and I’ll bake you a cake with a gert big file in it!’
Jacks laughed in spite of the horrible situation. Her laughter quickly turned to tears as she trod the path with her mum and it began to rain.
‘Is my letter here?’ Ida asked as Jacks fumbled in her pocket for her door key.
Jacks ignored her, unable to find the strength to respond.
Jacks sipped warily at her tea as Pete walked into the kitchen. She noted his agitated stance, the way his fingers flexed by his side. He obviously knew.
‘Good day?’ she asked.
He gave one brief nod. ‘Rob called me at work, told me what happened. We went for a beer. I’ve left you a couple of messages.’ He was breathing quickly.
‘I haven’t checked my phone.’ She had been hiding away, not wanting too much contact with the outside world.
‘What happened?’
Jacks sighed. ‘It was a mix-up. I nipped outside the supermarket to get some air. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
Pete sat down. ‘I was so worried.’
‘Don’t worry, no harm done, only to my pride.’
‘One good thing, Jacks, at least now you’ll have more to talk about on the Jeremy Kyle Show!’ he said, trying to lighten the mood.
Perfect Daughter Page 19
