For a moment he was transfixed. So this was what it was like. A family. He remembered playing in a tent in the garden with his dad before everything had been shattered and their home had become just a house where grief had pushed the laughter away.
Suddenly it hurt. That swell of pain, all the regret for things he’d never done with his father. For the first time, Jack wondered whether his father had really wanted to leave them like that. Whether, in those last moments, when death must have seemed inevitable, he had thought of his wife and children.
For a moment the feelings choked him. It had been so much easier to blame his father, to be angry at the choices he’d made. But perhaps he’d just been a dad, after all.
Quietly, he walked into the room. The sudden clatter of wind chimes startled him and Ellie came cannoning out of the makeshift tent, almost knocking it down. Jack hadn’t noticed the trip wire at his feet.
‘We got you, Daddy...’ Ellie wrapped her arms around his leg, clinging on tight.
‘Yeah, you got me.’ He bent down to tickle her and she wriggled with laughter. Then he put one finger over his lips, assuming a stage whisper. ‘Where’s Cass?’
‘In the tent,’ Ellie whispered back, her hand shielding her mouth.
Jack dropped to his knees and followed Ellie. Inside the tent, a line of dolls greeted him, their faces impassive. And Cass, sitting cross-legged and a little nervous, as if she’d just been caught doing something she wasn’t strictly meant to.
‘Can I come in?’ Jack grinned at her.
‘Yes. Of course.’ She shifted a bit to give him room to get inside the tent and Ellie clambered past him to her own spot, next to the dolls. ‘Is dinner getting cold...? Ellie, we should go downstairs...’
‘We could eat up here.’
‘Yes!’ Ellie gave him an imploring look and Cass reddened.
‘Won’t we make a mess?’
‘Probably. That’s what they make kitchen towel for.’ He met her gaze. Today had changed things. When he’d seen Cass and Ellie together in the classroom window, he’d realised that trying to protect Ellie from Cass’s love was not only useless; it was counterproductive. When they’d worked together with Annabel, Jack had wondered just how much else they could achieve together, given the chance.
And Cass had changed too. She’d created a comforting world for Ellie, and it was one that all three of them could share. They hadn’t been together like this since he and Cass had slept with Ellie, on his bed, weeks ago.
‘I used to have a tent, when I was little.’ He smiled at Ellie. ‘Grandma used to make burgers and chips, and she’d bring them out to the tent for Grandad and Auntie Sarah and me.’
Two pairs of round eyes gazed at him, Ellie’s filled with interest and Cass’s with astonishment.
‘Auntie Sarah says that my grandad is the same as Ethan’s grandad.’ Jack realised that Sarah must have talked to Ellie about their father but that he never had, and she was struggling with the concept. It was an omission that he should have rectified by now.
‘Yes, that’s right. Do you want to see a picture of him? With me and Auntie Sarah when we were little.’
Ellie nodded vigorously.
‘Okay. We’ll have supper first, though.’
‘I’ll come and give you a hand.’ Cass moved in the cramped space, trying not to knock any of the dolls over.
‘It’s okay. Stay here.’ They didn’t need to talk about this. Tonight might be as terrifying in its own way as today had been, but it was long overdue.
* * *
They were having fun. The tent that Cass had intended as something to cheer Ellie up with, and would fit only two people and a line of dolls, had turned into a tent for three. Just like a proper family.
Jack had gone to fetch the photograph, disappearing for some time, and Cass supposed it was hidden away somewhere and he’d had to look for it. Ellie had drawn her own version, and Jack had watched thoughtfully.
‘He looks like you, Daddy.’
‘Yeah. He does, doesn’t he?’ There was no trace of the anger that surfaced whenever Jack talked about his father. He ran his fingers lightly over the photograph, as if he too were re-drawing it.
‘Okay?’ Ellie was busy with another picture and Cass ventured the question.
‘Yeah. I think so.’ Jack still seemed unsure about this, but he’d hidden the tremor in his hands from Ellie. ‘You?’
It was nothing to do with her. It was Jack’s father, his child, and his conflict...
But when she’d passed Ellie out of the window and seen Jack waiting at the bottom of the ladder, it had felt for a moment as if Ellie was her own child. As if all the pressure and fear were gone, swamped by their shared instincts to keep the little girl safe. Maybe...just maybe...there was some way forward for her and Jack.
‘You?’ He repeated the question, more pointedly this time.
‘Yes. Fine.’ Cass turned to the picture that Ellie was drawing, trying to avoid his gaze. ‘That’s beautiful...’
She’d spoken before she had even looked at the picture. And when she did look, it was beautiful. A house. A red crayoned figure who she’d come to recognise as herself, along with a tall figure who could only be Jack. Between them stood four small figures.
‘That’s me.’ Ellie planted her finger on one of the smaller images. ‘And Daddy and Cassandra, and my brothers. And that’s my sister.’
‘Sweetheart...’ Jack’s voice was strained and Cass couldn’t look at him. Didn’t dare let him see the tears as her own picture of her perfect family suddenly imploded, smashing itself into pieces.
‘That’s very nice, Ellie.’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m...’
What? Living next door? Coming to rescue Jack and his family? For a moment she couldn’t think of any other reason for her to be in the picture than the one that Ellie so obviously intended.
‘Okay...’ When Jack pulled the picture out from in front of her, she almost cried out with loss. His other arm curled around Ellie and he took her on to his lap for a hug. ‘I think it’s nearly bedtime, don’t you, Ellie?’
‘No.’ Ellie’s voice was indignant.
‘I think it is...’
Suddenly Cass couldn’t take it. The nightly debate, which Jack always managed to win one way or another. The kiss, before Ellie ran to her father to go up to bed. She squeezed past Jack, almost knocking the tent down in her haste to get out.
‘Cass...?’
‘I’m going to stack the dishwasher.’ She didn’t wait for Jack’s reply but ran downstairs, turning on the kitchen tap to splash cool water on her face. She’d done the one thing that she’d promised herself she’d never do again. She’d fallen for Jack, and dared to dream about a happy ending. One that could never come true.
* * *
Jack tried to get Ellie into bed as fast as he could, but hurrying always seemed to have the same effect. The more he tried to rush, the slower Ellie went. He read Ellie’s favourite story, hoping she wouldn’t mind that he’d missed a few bits out, listening for any sign of movement downstairs. When he finally kissed Ellie goodnight, the house had been silent for a while.
She was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea. Cass didn’t need to look at him for Jack to know she’d been crying.
‘I’m so sorry. She didn’t mean it...’ The words tumbled out. It was all his fault. If he hadn’t talked about his own father, then Ellie would probably never have drawn the picture. Jack had broken his own rule, dared to include Cass in his and Ellie’s tiny family unit. And he’d hurt her.
She shrugged. ‘I know.’
‘She draws whatever happens to be going on in her head at the time. It doesn’t mean anything.’ He was protesting far too much. Trying to deny the truth. It hadn’t just been going on in Ellie’s head; it had be
en going on in his. And, from the look in her eyes, it had been going on in Cass’s too.
She shook her head. ‘It’s what she wants.’
Jack almost choked. ‘Ellie has what she needs; this isn’t about her.’ On that level it wasn’t. On another, deeper level, the thought of hurting her the way he’d been hurt, deliberately putting her at risk of losing a parent again, still terrified him.
‘No? Then make it about you and me then. How would you feel, knowing that there was no possibility of having any more children?’ The intensity in her quiet words made it very clear that they would have been shouted if there wasn’t a sleeping child in the house.
‘Honestly...?’
She looked up at him suddenly. Such pain in her eyes. ‘That would be good. Honesty always is.’
‘Honestly, I think it’s you that needs to face that, not me.’
‘My problem, you mean?’ she flared angrily.
‘No, I didn’t mean that at all. I meant that you’re the one who thinks it’s a problem in our relationship, not me.’
‘We weren’t going to have this conversation, Jack. You said you’d keep me safe.’
The words stung because they were true. And wanting to change didn’t mean that it was easy.
‘It’s been a hell of a day. Perhaps we should sleep on it.’
She nodded, her face impassive. ‘Yes. I need to be up early tomorrow. I’m seeing the electrician at my house in the morning.’
Jack nodded. ‘Are you coming to bed, then?’
He’d never had to ask before. Always known that Cass would go to her own room, to get ready for bed, and then come to his. The moments of waiting, which had seemed like hours in his impatience to hold her, were almost the best part of his day. Second only to when he actually did hold her.
‘I don’t want to disturb you in the morning. And I could do with some sleep tonight.’
Jack nodded. Saying it out loud had broken the spell. ‘I’ll see you for supper then. Tomorrow.’
‘Yes.’ She stood up, bending to kiss his cheek. That, somehow, seemed the most damning thing of all. That she still wanted him, maybe even loved him a little, but there was a gap between them which neither of them could bridge.
* * *
He didn’t see her again until the following evening. She arrived home late, her face expressionless, and sat down with him in the lounge. Separate chairs, the way they always did, even if there would be no one to see if they curled up together on the sofa. It seemed almost normal, and strangely comforting after having brooded over the possibility that Cass might do what they’d agreed to do all along and take it into her head to call time on their relationship.
‘How are things?’
‘Fine. Good, actually. The electrician reckons it’s safe to restore part of the power supply now, and that means I can get heaters in there to help dry the ground floor out a bit. The motorway’s open again.’
One by one, the things that kept her here were disappearing. It was only a matter of time...
‘I’m going to move back in.’
Jack swallowed. ‘Already?’
‘It’s easier for me to be there. As long as I have somewhere to sleep, they’re still doing lunches and an evening meal up at the church hall.’ She pressed her lips together. Clearly she didn’t want to talk about it.
‘You have somewhere to sleep here.’ His bed. In his arms.
‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘But...’
Jack could feel it all slipping away. Protected by secrecy and the four walls of his bedroom, their love affair had blossomed, but as soon as they took it outside that, into the real world, it seemed unbearably fragile.
But maybe, with a little care, it could survive. ‘Will you come out with me? One evening. A meal, perhaps.’
She blinked at him. ‘You’re asking me out on a date?’
‘Yeah. I am. Sarah will look after Ellie...’
‘I don’t think that’s a very good idea.’
‘Why not?’ Okay, so he knew the reasons. Had struggled with the reasons, and Jack still wasn’t sure that they weren’t valid ones. But surely Cass could give it a try?
‘Because...’ She stared at him for a moment, her gaze searching his face. ‘Because there’s no future in it, Jack. I know what it’s like to want a child so badly that your whole life seems shattered every time your body tells you that you’re not pregnant. I can’t go through that again.’
‘I’m not asking you to. All I’m asking is that we give it a little time. Find a way to work things out.’
She shook her head, her face suddenly impassive. ‘No. That would be too cruel.’
She got to her feet, leaving the room without even looking at him and closing the door behind her in a clear sign that he wasn’t to follow her. He heard her soft footsteps on the stairs and the sound of her bedroom door close. Then silence.
Jack stared into the gathering gloom, which had once been a thrilling first hint of the darkness ahead. Now all he could feel was anger. He’d risked everything for Cass, his own heart, and Ellie’s. He’d trusted her enough to try to let her into his life but she was still too fearful to even make the effort, and now she was going to leave him.
Maybe she was right and it would never have worked out. And, if that was the case, then he needed to think of Ellie. He needed to protect her.
He sat for a long time, brooding into the darkness, then slumped round on the sofa, fatigue taking over from the what-ifs that were filling his mind. No point in going up to bed. He knew that Cass wouldn’t be coming.
* * *
Cass was up and packed before there was any sound from Ellie’s bedroom. By the time she heard the tinkle of wind chimes heralding the fact that the little girl was awake, she was sitting on the bed in the spare room, staring at the wall.
It was all for the best. This had never been anything other than something temporary, something that couldn’t touch their real lives. It had been three weeks since their first night together. Just about the duration of a holiday romance.
The sounds of Jack and Ellie in the bathroom. The smell of breakfast. Everyday things, now tainted with sadness. She waited until she heard Ellie running around in the sitting room, ready to jump on the new day with her customary glee, and went downstairs.
Jack was drowsy and tight-lipped. He closed the kitchen door and turned to her, his face unreadable.
‘You’re going today?’
‘Yeah.’
He nodded. ‘Okay. I’m taking Ellie out to the petting zoo this morning. They’ve just opened up again after the floods.’ His eyes softened suddenly and a thrill of hope ran through her veins. ‘Take your time packing.’
Even Jack couldn’t fix this. Neither could she. All they could do was to act as if nothing had happened, and that was easy enough. They’d been acting as if nothing was happening practically since they’d first laid eyes on each other.
‘I’m ready to go now.’
He nodded abruptly. ‘We’ll be going soon. Then you can go.’
He couldn’t help it. However much he was trying to come to terms with the past, he couldn’t do it yet. Jack was cutting her out of his life, another casualty of loss, just like his father and Sal.
‘May I...’ Cass almost choked on the words. Surely he couldn’t be that cruel. ‘May I say goodbye to her?’
‘Of course.’ A glimmer of warmth again in his eyes and then he turned, opening the kitchen door. ‘Take whatever time you need.’
It was cold comfort. Cass explained to Ellie that she was going back home today and the little girl nodded, taking it in her stride.
‘You’re not going far.’
‘No, sweetie, not far. You know where I live.’
‘That’s all right, then.’
Cass hugged her tight, squeezing her eyes closed to stop the tears. Jack called to her from the hallway, persuading her into her coat and wellingtons, and Ellie shouted a goodbye. When Cass went to the front door to wave them off, he didn’t even look at her. If Ellie required a hug and a kiss goodbye, Jack obviously required neither.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE CLOCK RADIO blared into life and Cass cursed it, reaching out to shut it off. The sudden movement prompted a twinge in her shoulder.
Well it might. She’d been up until midnight last night, putting flat-pack kitchen units together, and they’d been heavier than she’d expected. Today, she might take some time to reflect on the considerable amount of work she’d done on the house in the last two months. Take a few ‘work in progress’ photographs to compare with the devastation of the ‘before’ photos and spur her on to the distant date when ‘after’ photos would be in order.
She took a long shower, still revelling in the fact that she had hot water again. Then padded back to her bedroom, sorting through her wardrobe and on a whim pulling out a skirt. Being able to wear something pretty in the house instead of muddying up her jeans yet again was novelty enough to smack of yet another new achievement.
She made coffee and then went back upstairs to her bedroom, sitting cross-legged on the bed and switching on the television. This was the one room in the house which didn’t bear some signs of the devastation the flood had brought with it; downstairs was still a work in progress and the spare room was full of furniture. But here she could relax.
A film maybe. Watching TV on a Sunday morning seemed like the ultimate luxury. Cass picked up the remote from the bedside cabinet and switched to streaming, flipping through the films on offer. No, not that one. Or that one. Definitely not that; she’d heard it was a weepie. Or that—it was a love story.
The only thing that seemed to drive Jack from her mind was hard work. And the only thing which drove him from her dreams was physical and mental exhaustion. Cass hesitated, looking at her jeans, folded neatly on a chair. Maybe she should put them on and get on with the kitchen cabinets.
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