Heart (16 page)

“I’ll think of something. Don’t worry.” My words sound pathetic, even to me. What the fuck
am
I going to do?

“I saved this for you.” Grace pulls a frame from behind her. Tears fill my eyes at what I see, at knowing she understood the frame Neve gave me for Valentine’s Day was more valuable to me than my Xbox or laptop. I take it from her and mentally devour the selection of photos it holds.

Me and Dad.

Me, Grace and Josh.

Me and Flynn.

Me and Neve.

A twelve-inch square that reminds me of who is important in my life.

“Give me a hand picking this lot up?” I pull Grace to her feet and start collecting my things. She runs inside, coming back out a few minutes later with a duffel bag and a large pink box.

“It’s all I’ve got. The suitcases are in the loft.”

I pack my things into the bag and the box and put them in the back of the van. Grace lingers next to me.

“Where are you going?” Despite not having a clue as to what my next move is going to be, I don’t want to worry her. I also don’t want to make it worse by causing a scene. Not yet.

“I don’t know. Maybe Bill’s or Flynn’s. I’ll be okay. What are
you
doing tonight?” I was more worried about her than I was for myself. The roof over her head offered little protection if I wasn’t there.

“I’m sitting for Noah. When I get back, I’ll use my lock.” That said it all. I need to come up with a plan. Quick.

“Text me if you need anything.
Anything
. I won’t be far. Okay?”

“Okay,” she hiccups through fresh tears. Prolonging this isn’t going to make it any easier and I really don’t want to see Dickhead. I don’t trust myself.

After one last hug, I get in the van and pull away.

Back at the park, I lock the van and take a walk, hoping the fresh air will give me inspiration. I’ve got enough cash for a cheap B&B tonight but that’s not an option in the long run. All I want is to go to Neve.

To hug her and have her tell me it’s all going to be okay.

To be loved.

After eating breakfast with the other residents of the B&B, each of whom appears to have his own mental health issues, I face the facts. I can’t live like this. I can’t afford to live like this, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. And, having looked through the local papers last night, I also know I can’t afford to rent anything more than a bedsit. My hope of finding somewhere for me, Grace and Josh rests on two things: time and money. So I need to find some of both.

Faced with this reality, I make a decision I’m not happy with but know is probably the only option I have: to go back home and apologise. As much as my fists burn at the mere idea of apologising to Dickhead, there is no other choice. Not if I’m going to still be able to look after Grace and Josh. I send Mum a text asking to meet her later and go to work.

I’m glad today’s job means I’m working with Bill for the day. Too much time by myself will mean too much thinking time, and I’ve had enough of that in the last twenty-four hours. We’re landscaping the garden for a new house and working alongside Bill, creating something from scratch, reminds me of working with Dad when I was a kid. Even the groans of Bill’s aching body have a welcome familiarity to them.

“You all right, kid?” Bill asks when we sit down for lunch: his a box prepared by his wife, mine a sandwich and packet of crisps from the garage down the road.

“Yeah, ta.”

“Bullshit.” My head turns at the word; I’ve never heard Bill swear. “Come on, you can tell me. Girl trouble? Mum trouble?” Bill knows the basics about my home life. He knew Dad and had given me a part-time job as soon as I was old enough for it to be legal. That job had turned into this apprenticeship and I was thankful for it.

“I’m fine.” Yeah, sure I am.

“I’ve known you long enough, Jake, to know when you’re not telling the truth. I’ve also known you long enough to care when it looks like you don’t know what to do next. What’s up? I’m old enough, if not wise enough, that I might be able to see an answer you can’t.”
What have I got to lose?

I tell Bill everything that has gone on. I start with the recent events and then go back in time, starting with Dad. When he prompts me, I also reveal how I dumped Neve. As I listen to the tale I’m telling, I can’t believe how I thought that ending things with Neve would make the rest of the sorry situation any better.

Bill leans back and crosses his ankles. I wait for advice. Words of wisdom. Words of comfort. Anything.

Nothing.

“So, what do you think I should do?” I eventually ask, desperate for a response to my outpouring.

“I think you should come round for tea tonight. Sophie’s making cottage pie. You don’t want to miss out on that. Come on, let’s get back to it.” Heaving himself up, Bill closes his lunchbox and moves back over to the area we were working on before lunch.

Still waiting on a reply from Mum at the end of work, I haven’t got anything better to do than go to Bill’s. I pop into the toilets at the supermarket and give myself a quick tidy-up. I pick up a box of chocolates for Sophie to say thank you for tea, knowing Bill would kill me if I took her a bunch of flowers.

Bill was right: Sophie’s cottage pie is amazing. The second and third helpings reflect how long it is since I’ve had a home-cooked meal like it. I manage to squeeze in a couple of slices of apple pie and ice cream before sitting on the sofa, my offer to wash up having been loudly turned down by Sophie. Bill sits on the chair next to me and switches off the TV.

“You ready for that chat now?” I only need to nod before he continues. “Me and Sophie have had a good talk about it tonight, before you came round, and we’d like to offer you a room here, Jake. For as long as you need it.” I thought I was going to get advice, not this level of help.

“Really? You mean it?”

“’Course we do, lad. You’re the best worker I’ve ever had and I couldn’t think more highly of you. I’m getting on and know I wouldn’t be able to keep the business going without you, Jake. When he was little, I had my hopes pinned on Liam but look what he’s turned out like. And he hasn’t got half the excuses you would have to go off the rails.” The tell-tale burning at the back of my throat tells me this could get emotional and I try to swallow the tears. Sophie comes back in, tea-towel in hand, and perches on the arm of Bill’s chair.

“It will be lovely having someone else around the house, Jake. We would love to have you. The spare room just needs a few boxes moving out, that’s all. There’s a bed and other bits and pieces in there.”

“I can’t believe this.” I run my hands over my face, unsure of what to do. I want to hug and kiss them both, but know that is probably a line they wouldn’t appreciate me crossing.

“Well, believe it, kid. The room’s yours, if you want it. I’m sure Sophie will throw in a few dinners, as well,” he adds, smiling up at her.

“How much rent do you want?” Remembering the cost of the bedsit, I know how much I can afford.

“Rent? We don’t want rent. We want to help you out. We
care
, Jake. I don’t want your money.” The tears fill my eyes and Sophie walks over, hugging me to her chest.

“Come on, now. It’ll all be okay. Let’s go up and sort those boxes.” Following her out, I take a look back at Bill. He’s sitting with a huge smile on his face and I silently thank whatever force of life it is that brought him into my life.

Lying on clean bedding later that evening, I pick up my phone. Other than a couple of texts from Grace, it has been silent all day. No reply from Mum and I’m disappointed but not surprised.

Me:
You OK?

Grace:
Yeah. All moved in now?

Me:
Yes. Got more space… and less hassle!

Grace:
That’s good ☺

Me:
What’s going on there?

Grace:
They’ve gone out so it’s just me and Josh☺

Me:
Good. Meet tomorrow after work?

Grace:
YES! YES! YES!

Me:
OK… calm down! Costa at 5?

Grace:
I CAN’T WAIT! Love you xx

Me:
Love u 2. See u at 5 xx

Knowing Grace was safe and that I’ll be seeing her tomorrow, I lie back and let my mind wander to Neve. I try not to dwell on memories of cheeky texts she’d send me whilst she was in classes, or the increasingly sexy ones we’d send each other late at night. I refuse to go back and re-read them. I know the limits to my self-control.

I wonder what she’s doing, how she’s coping. Does she still think of it as coping? Or is she living? I wish I had the balls to ring Flynn and ask for every gory detail. A part of me wants her to be struggling, to be unhappy. That’s how fucked-up I am. But the bigger part wants her to be happy, or at least getting close to it. Looking at the clock, I imagine her at a party in a student house. They’re all playing drinking games. She’s sat in the circle, playing with her hair, hiding her heart-mark. There are several guys watching her, wanting her. One of them sits next to her, close enough that their knees touch. He laughs at something she says and gets her another drink. This time he sits even closer, leaning with one arm on her leg. She’s wearing a skirt. The same skirt she had on in the van when we went to Brighton. He starts stroking her leg and she looks over at him. Smiles. He leans in. She closes her eyes…

Oh, yeah, I’m so over her.

Knowing there was only a week until we formulate the grand plan, I looked forward to a few days of normal uni life. My American Studies classes were great: I loved both the course content and spending time with Mickey. He had declared himself my BBFF, adding ‘Brighton’ to avoid usurping Cass. We spent time eating, shopping and gossiping together, as well as studying. I would have been lost without him.

English Lit classes were trickier. Thankful Millie provided me with someone to sit with, I steered clear of Garrett but I couldn’t avoid him completely. Too often he was stood outside the lecture hall or seminar room, apparently waiting for someone. Even though he never acknowledged me, I could feel him watching me. I caught him staring at me in one lecture. He returned my quizzical look with a raised eyebrow. No smile. Just an intense stare I ended up breaking.

This awkwardness meant I was struggling to pay full attention and so was having to work extra hard just to keep up. I found myself spending longer hours in the library, reading the materials which had been summarised in the lectures, all because Garrett was messing with my head. It was ironic that my headspace should have been filled with Jake but was instead filled with Garrett-induced stress.

Mickey:
Fancy a romantic dinner for 2? Or maybe chips by the sea?

Me:
Chips sounds good. When?

Mickey:
Come to my room and we’ll bus it down.

Me:
K x

We sat on one of the covered benches, eating chips and watching the waves. Even with the sea spray misting my face and frizzing my hair, I was aware that I was happy. The darkness of the last few weeks was lifting. I had friends and was starting to enjoy life in Brighton. My friendship with Cass was as strong as ever. And next weekend, I was going to do everything in my power to get Jake back.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing really. Just feeling happy.” I couldn’t admit to Mickey how depressed I’d been that day when I sat, a short distance from where we were, and considered ending it all. My life. Looking back, I was shocked at how easily I had succumbed to temptation that day. How weak I had been. Maybe it’s true what they say: if it doesn’t kill you, it makes you stronger. Well, I was feeling stronger. Happier.

“I hope that’s because of the delectable company you’re now keeping?” Mickey joked.

“Of course! Seriously, though, I’m so glad Ruby acted as matchmaker. I’d be lost without you,” I admitted, snuggling into his side.