Sven winced and turned away. ‘Did you love him?’
Jacks shook her head. ‘No. Not then, not immediately. I almost played at it at first. It came later, when we had the baby. And now I do. I love him very much.’ She pictured her husband wheeling her mum down the hallway to eat the tea he had cooked, heard his voice offering to fetch her glasses for her. A kind man, a good man, with whom she shared a life, a family.
‘I see.’
‘Don’t get me wrong, I was devastated when you went.’ She stared at the horizon. ‘And I think I’ve spun that over the years, made you into my knight in shining armour, fantasising that with you my life would have been perfect.’
‘Life’s never perfect,’ he said.
‘I think I’ve figured that out. I’ve also realised that it doesn’t have to be perfect – you just have to be happy.’ She laughed as though this was a revelation. Her mum’s words floated into her head: ‘Selfish people are very hard to love.’ She looked at Sven, realising how easy it was to love Pete, the least selfish man she had ever met.
‘I agree and I’ve nearly got my perfect formula for happiness.’ He moved a little closer towards her.
‘You have?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘I have. I’m happy as long as the adrenalin is pumping, things are moving quickly and I have a large bed and a glass of chilled champagne waiting for me, wherever I decide to lay my head. No burdens, no ties.’ Sven ran a finger over the sleeve of her jacket. ‘Come with me, Jacks. Just you and me, no distractions. Let’s go chase adventure!’
Jacks stared at him, this stranger, who was looking at her so eagerly. ‘Have you not understood anything of what I’ve been saying, Sven? My life is all the adventure I need. My perfect formula is lying next to Pete, looking up at our ugly lampshade and knowing my kids are safely asleep in the room next door.’
She realised the truth of her words as she spoke them. ‘He was there when I needed someone and he didn’t abandon me. He stuck by me, always has.’
‘And I didn’t.’
‘No, Sven, you didn’t. You went to America. You kept telling me how easy it would be for me to pack a bag and go, but I can see now that it would have been just as easy for you to unpack your bag and stay.’
Sven looked across the field with an expression of resignation. ‘I loved you, Jackie Morgan. I really loved you. What we had was real, forever real. It was magical. And I thought you felt the same.’
‘I did,’ she whispered.
‘But not now?’ It was the last throw of the dice.
‘Not now.’ She shook her head, resigned. There was just one final thing that needed clearing up. She took a big breath, steeling herself. She knew she had to ask, it was only fair, no matter how painful.
‘Do you want to see Martha? Know anything about her?’ Her heart hammered in anticipation of his answer. She dreaded the prospect of having to confess everything to her little girl when she was at her most vulnerable and she hated the thought of how much Pete would be hurt in the process.
Sven shook his head.
Jacks exhaled slowly and felt a tumble of giddy relief. ‘I guess that’s what “no burdens, no ties” means?’
‘I guess so. It would all be too complicated,’ he murmured.
She stood, unzipped the silver jacket and handed it to Sven. ‘I won’t ever forget you, Sven. But it’s time I moved on. We aren’t kids any more. I have a family, kids of my own and a husband who has given up so much for our happiness. He’s my real knight in shining armour.’
Sven’s mouth narrowed; he looked hurt. He remained where he was as Jacks started to walk towards the gate. ‘Can I give you a lift?’ he called.
Jacks pictured climbing into her dad’s little Skoda back on the Marine Parade, feeling something close to happiness. She laughed out loud. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Jacks?’ he shouted.
‘What?’
He twisted round. ‘My first yacht in the group, she was called Lady Jacqueline and she was beautiful – different, unique, unlike any other. She was ready to take to the high seas and conquer the world.’
Oh she was, Sven, she was.
‘I never thought she’d become washed up, stranded in the place she was supposed to sail away from…’ His words were cutting.
Jacks turned, wrapped her arms around her cheap cardigan and stared at the forlorn figure in the middle of the school playing field. When she spoke, her voice was firm.
‘No, Sven, that’s not what happened. She decided to stay put and let the world come to her. And it did. And you were wrong, you know: home is not a state or a feeling, it’s a place. And for me, it’s here. I’m home.’
Jacks couldn’t see Gina’s Corsa as she pulled up, but she did spot Pete’s van. It was unusual for him not to be on site at that time of day, especially as it wasn’t a cricket day. She poked her head into the empty kitchen and then crept up the stairs and hovered by Ida’s bedroom door.
Her mum was under the covers with her fussy bed jacket on and her head propped against her favourite pillow. Pete was sitting in the chair to the side of the bed, still wearing his heavy work boots. He was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and in his hands was a sheet of paper. Ida was staring at him intently. Her gnarled fingers gripped the edge of her pink candlewick bedspread. Jacks leant against the doorframe and listened. Pete’s voice was low and gentle.
‘And so, my darling, that is all my news. I remember the day we met – you looked so pretty. Do you remember that day?’ Pete paused and looked up at Ida, who had a flicker of a smile around her lips. He coughed and went back to his sheet of paper. ‘It was the best day of my life and I will never forget a moment of it. Take care of yourself, Ida. I will miss you every single day. Keep this letter safe and know that I will be thinking about you even if I can’t be with you. I love you forever and ever. Your loving husband, Don.’
Jacks felt the tears pool as she watched her kind man reading to her mum. Her wonderful man, who worked hard for his family and had been by her side in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer. She knew she was lucky to have him.
Pete folded the sheet and placed it in the drawer of Ida’s bedside cabinet. ‘If you need me to read it to you again, then just shout.’
‘Dear, dear Toto.’ Ida smiled and closed her eyes.
Pete pulled the cover up to her chin and patted her arm. ‘That’s it, Ida, you have a bit of a nap.’ He crept backwards from the room and turned to find his wife crying in the hallway.
‘I had a great idea as I was driving in,’ he said. ‘It suddenly struck me, why make her wait for her letter, why not just make the letter arrive? And it did the trick. She seems settled.’
‘Thank you. Thank you, Pete.’
He pulled her to him and held her in his strong arms. They stood for a few minutes, feeling the solidity of each other beneath their palms.
‘Why are you crying? Don’t tell me you just saw the post-match analysis for City at the weekend? We’ve had a bloody shocker!’ He kissed her head as she leant into him.
‘I love you, Pete. I really love you.’
‘I know.’ He squeezed her tight.
Jacks stood back and looked up at her husband. ‘I am sorry. I’m sorry!’
Pete nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. ‘Are we all right now? All sorted, girl?’
Jacks smiled and nodded. ‘Yep.’
‘Good.’ Pete sighed. ‘Then let that be the end of it. Cup of tea?’
‘Yes, please. Cup of tea would be lovely.’ She touched his arm. ‘I heard you reading to my mum. That was a lovely thing to do.’
‘Well, as I say, I figured if she actually got what she wanted, then she might stop fretting about it.’
‘You are very wise.’
‘Don’t know about that. Reckon if I was a bit wiser I’d have kept old Giddyup away from Martha.’
Jacks knew they had to broach the subject. ‘She’s gone to stay at his house, with his mum.’
Pete nodded. ‘I know. She sent me a text.’
‘She told me a few things this morning about how she’s been feeling and it’s made me think—’
‘Let’s chat downstairs.’ He reached out and held her hand as they made their way slowly down the bare, creaking stairs to the kitchen.
Jacks lowered herself into a chair. ‘I think you’re right. It’s not the worst thing that could happen, Pete, is it? Not really.’
Pete placed the mug in front of her as he spoke. ‘It’s not, love. There’s many a bloke that would have done a runner, but not him. He proper loves her and she loves him. And when you proper love someone, that’s what you do, you stick around no matter how hard the going gets.’
Jacks took his hand, thinking of her earlier encounter. ‘I know. It’s just not what I wanted for her. She’s so smart!’
‘Yes she is and that’s why we have to trust her to make her own life.’
‘I know, I know,’ Jacks conceded, staring into her tea as though that was where the answer might lie.
Pete’s voice was steady. ‘I was thinking about how your mum and dad reacted. After the initial upset, they were lovely, accepting, and it made everything easier, didn’t it? And then I came along and they were good about that too. Imagine if we’d had to deal with hostility from them as well. That would have been tough. As I see it, we’ve got two choices: we either support her, help her, love her, like we have done since the day she was born, or we lose her. And that would be the worst thing. It’s that simple.’
‘I don’t want to lose her! I really don’t,’ Jacks cried.
‘Then it’s an easy choice, love.’ Pete rubbed his palms together. ‘We know, don’t we, that you have to stick together, work things through.’
‘Yes we do.’
‘And you’re sure we’re okay?’ He looked at her, his words heavy with meaning.
Jacks held his gaze. ‘I saw him again, just to say goodbye.’ She sniffed.
‘Still have one of his mum’s old jumpers on, did he?’
Jacks laughed and shook her head. ‘I feel like I’ve put a few ghosts to bed.’
‘Good.’ He was firm. ‘All I want is to make you all happy. That’s all I ever wanted.’
Jacks stood and wrapped her arms around his neck. ‘And you do, my lover, you do.’ She kissed him hard on the cheek. ‘He offered us money, said he wanted to help. I told him we didn’t want it, we didn’t need anything.’
Pete nodded. ‘We don’t miss what we’ve never had, eh, girl?’
Jacks sighed and sat down next to him.
There was a banging noise overhead. ‘What in God’s name is that?’
‘Ah, yes, I gave your mum a stick, told her to bang on the floor if she needed anything.’
‘Think I preferred the bloody bell!’ Jacks stood. ‘Coming, Mum!’ she shouted as she trotted up the stairs.
Later that night, Jacks sat in the car with the engine off and stared up at the windows of the Parks’ house in Alfred Street. Not that there was anything to see. It was an inky blue night and the lights inside were on and the curtains drawn. She imagined Martha indoors with Allison and Gideon, eating her tea, watching TV, lying around in her pyjamas, living in this house to which she had no connection. Picturing the scenes of domesticity was like sticking a knife into her gut. Half an hour passed and then her mobile buzzed on the dashboard, making her jump.
‘Where are you, love?’ Pete’s voice was soft.
‘I’m in Alfred Street,’ she admitted, ‘just sitting outside their house.’
‘What are you doing that for?’
Jacks shrugged. ‘I just want to see her.’
‘Do you want me to come and sit with you?’ he offered.
‘No. But thank you. It’s best you’re there in case Mum wakes up. And Jonty’s asleep.’
‘Have you seen anything yet?’ Pete hated the thought of his daughter being away as much as Jacks did. Jacks had spied him earlier on, laying a palm against Martha’s pillow and arranging her soft toys on the end of her bed, like he used to when she was little.
‘No.’
‘Are you going to knock on the door?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, Jacks, is this what you’re reduced to? Sitting in the street trying to catch a glimpse of her? It’s not going to help, you know.’
She felt the familiar hot trickle of tears. ‘I miss her. I miss my daughter and I feel like everything is falling apart, Pete. I keep thinking about when I was little and my dad built me a Wendy house on the grass round the back. I loved it. I used to sit in it and make out I was cooking the tea and expecting visitors. But we left it outside, uncovered, all winter and the glue got wet and the plywood rotted. It collapsed and lay on the lawn in bits. It wasn’t my house any more, just these flat, useless panels, no longer fit for purpose. And that’s like my life. Everything has gone flat, fallen apart and I don’t know how to put it all back together again. I don’t know where to start.’
‘You can start by coming home. Sitting in the street by yourself will do you no good at all.’
‘She said she’d come back when it felt like home. But it won’t ever feel like home, not while she’s not in it and not talking to me.’
‘She’ll come back, Jacks, I promise.’
Jacks started the engine. ‘God, I hope you’re right.’
‘Come home, Jacks, and have an early night. You’re tired.’
She took one last look up at the windows before reluctantly pulling out of Alfred Street.
28
Eighteen Years Earlier
It was early evening at Weston-super-Mare General Hospital when Ida drew her eyes away from the little telly that was mounted high on the wall in the corner of the waiting room. The local news was on, but with the sound muted she could only guess at the stories from the pictures and the smiles or frowns of the presenters. She watched as Don came back through the swing doors and into the room, shrugging his shoulders and wringing his hands as if the outside cold still clung to him.
‘Where have you been?’ she snapped, her voice full of mistrust. Twenty minutes was plenty enough time for him to have been up to something.
He turned to look at her, removed his coat and placed it on the empty chair alongside. ‘To make a phone call.’ His tone was level. He hitched his trousers, sat down and rested his ankle on his opposite knee.
Ida shook her head.
‘Oh, the head shaking now? Even here, today?’ Don swirled his hand in the air, as if she might be unaware of where they were.
‘Do you think I want to be that person?’ she whispered, rearranging her handbag on her lap, grateful for the prop.
He folded his arms across his chest. ‘I don’t think you know how to be anything else any more.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ She stared at him.
‘Mine.’ He closed his eyes and bowed his head. ‘Everything is always my fault. I think we established that a long time ago.’
‘Do you know, you are right.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know how to be any other person and that’s the worst part of it for me.’ Her lower lip trembled. ‘I never wanted to be like this, to live like this!’
Don snapped the newspaper, opening it wide and lifting it to cover his upper body and face. There was a brief pause in their bickering, then Ida broke the silence again.
‘It doesn’t feel like eighteen years ago that I was giving birth. I remember every second of that day like it was yesterday. Every single second.’ She smiled at the memory.
‘Ah yes.’ His voice floated from behind the red-top. ‘You had a go at me then as well, I recall.’
‘And do you remember why?’
He laughed loudly and let one side of his newspaper fall, freeing a hand so that he could rub his tired eyes. ‘As if I could for one second forget.’
There was another moment or two of silence.
‘Do you think…’ She hesitated. ‘Do you think, if things had been different for us, if
we’d been different parents, given a better example maybe, we’d still be sitting here now?’
Before Don had a chance to answer, the nurse popped her head round the door. ‘Just to let you know, your daughter’s doing great. No news yet, but shouldn’t be too much longer!’ She smiled and retreated, eager to get back to wherever she was needed.
‘Come on, push!’ Pete shouted, gripping Jacks’ hand inside his.
Jacks screwed her eyes shut and tried, really tried. Her face was contorted and scarlet, her head bent down to her chest. Then she gasped and lay back against the pillow, suddenly limp and breathless. ‘I’m too tired. I can’t… I can’t do this any more.’
It had been seven hours of hard work. Her muscles were tired, her will was waning and she desperately wanted to sleep. The gas and air were now proving ineffective and they were too far into proceedings for an epidural to be of any real use.
Pete leant forward and placed his hand on her back, talking directly into her face. ‘Yes, you can, Jacks! You can do anything. Anything. And you are nearly done. Nearly there, love. Isn’t that right, Cath?’ He looked across at the midwife, who was sitting on a stool with his wife’s feet by her ears, her head bobbing between the stirrups.
‘Yep, he’s right. One or two big pushes and we are going to have ourselves a little bibber babber!’
Jacks threw her head back and smiled in spite of her exhaustion, picturing her baby, who very soon she would be meeting. Her long fringe was stuck to her face with sweat; she was thirsty but wary of drinking as she didn’t want to complicate matters by needing to pee.
‘Just think, years ago, you’d have simply dropped your little one behind a bush and carried on working in the fields!’ Pete grinned.
‘Not sure that’s helpful.’ Cath smiled curtly at the nervous dad-in-waiting, who so far had been doing a grand job of supporting his young wife.
Perfect Daughter Page 23
