‘So, when I had the opportunity to help you in return,’ he continues, ‘at the same time as helping myself, I took it. Happy now?’ Before I can answer, the moon reappears, lighting the beach around us. I glance around. While we’ve been talking, the party has broken up, the music’s been turned off and a few kids are drifting towards us, heading for the steps carved into the grassy cliff. As he notices them, Jake shifts away, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘Anyway, enough of all that,’ he says, breaking the mood. ‘You’ve had your explanation.’
I stare at him, confused at his abrupt turnaround, my mouth open as I search for the right thing to say. ‘Well, thanks for telling me,’ I reply, uncomfortable. The moonlight catches my bracelet with a glimmer as I move my arm, and I spin it around my left wrist, rubbing the dog charm between two fingers. To fill the silence, I start babbling. ‘My dad finally bought me a puppy as a reward for taking all my exams,’ I blurt. ‘I’ve been on at him to get me a dog for years. As an only child I always wanted company growing up. Anyway, I got her the other day and her name’s Fleur. She’s really cute. She keeps following me around and wanting to play.’
‘That’s nice.’ Tilting his head to the side, he asks, ‘After the character in Harry Potter?’
‘Yes,’ I say, surprised by his observation. ‘The charm arrived this morning. Grandad found it in an envelope that came through the door.’ I press on, wanting another answer from him. ‘You know him, right? The day you left he wanted to go after you, to stop your dad taking you.’
‘He didn’t need to; he knows that.’
‘What?’ I glance at him sharply. ‘How does he know? Have you been in touch with him?’ Hot jealousy shoots though me. I’m not sure whether that’s about Grandad, or Jake.
‘You don’t need to worry about that. Jones, look, there’s something I need to—’
‘Jake!’ A voice shouts above us on the stairs, and I recognise Owen’s lanky frame and shaggy hair. ‘We need to go,’ he hollers. ‘We’ve got a problem. Your dad—’
‘Coming,’ Jake calls back, interrupting his friend. He starts backing away and I go to follow, but he holds his hands up, palms out, to stop me. ‘Don’t. If it’s about my dad, I’ve gotta go now.’
‘Jake, wait—’
‘I can’t.’
‘But what did you mean about my grandad?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ He darts off to the side, grabbing a black rucksack from a pile of bags. Slinging it on his shoulder, he lopes up the steps. ‘Just for the record,’ he says in a rush, ‘I would have been okay without you. There was no need to help me. I’m a strong swimmer and I know my way around the sea. Really.’ As he starts climbing, he gives me a half-salute, touching a hand to his forehead. ‘But thank you. Not bad for a feminist,’ he smirks. ‘And by the way, Jones, I’m glad you grew your hair.’ He points at the sodden ropes hanging almost to my waist. Before I can reply, he nods to the screwed-up T-shirt I’m clutching in front of me. ‘And nice top, but I preferred it on. It definitely looked better on.’ Spinning, he leaps up the steps, taking two at a time without once glancing back.
‘What?’ I stare after him, embarrassment colouring my face. Why did I ever think we were friends?
Jake
November 2007
The Car Charm & The Sea Charm
‘Holy Fuck, what the hell?’ Jake stomps his trainer on the brake pedal, the BMW juddering to a stop.
Whipping his head round, he glares between the head rests, a green car filling his rear-view window. He yanks the handbrake on and leaps out of the door. Racing to the rear end of what he sees now is an old VW Beetle, he slaps an open palm against the back window. ‘Stop. Stop moving, for God’s sake.’
The car halts and the driver’s window is rolled down, a blonde head emerging. The hair is so pale it’s almost silver. ‘Huh?’ Turning her head, she flinches, ‘Oh, Jake. It’s you.’
Jake’s heart jolts in his chest. Leila. He figured she’d have gone to college in town to study art by now. The last time they’d seen each other was eighteen months before, when she’d dragged him from the sea. After he’d made an idiot of himself laying into her friend, and she’d accused him of being like his dad. Not his finest hour, but he’d been embarrassed and, to his shame, his pride had got in the way of manners.
The shock of seeing her now unexpectedly, unprepared for the emotions it causes, adds to his anger. ‘Yep, it’s me.’ His voice rises, a slight northern lilt coating it. ‘And don’t play the innocent. You backed into my car and were trying to drive off. We need to exchange insurance details. Also, it looks like the bumpers are caught on each other, so you’re only doing more damage trying to pull them apart.’
‘Okay, calm down.’ Her head disappears, and she rolls the window up. She clambers from the car as he comes around the front bonnet of the VW to meet her. ‘Actually, you backed into me. The spaces are opposite each other and there’s no right of way, but I started reversing first—’
‘I don’t think so, Jones,’ he drawls.
Her eyes narrow. ‘Don’t patronise me, Jake, and don’t be an arse.’ Her tone is mild, but the comment stings. ‘Oh no, I’d better be careful in case you think I’m being a feminist again.’ She raises both eyebrows, more confident than before. ‘And how was I supposed to know the bumpers were caught on each other? I don’t have Supergirl’s x-ray vision.’
‘That’s a shame, because if you did, it might improve your driving skills. I clearly had the right of way because contrary to what you think, I was reversing first. I checked my mirror twice.’ But even as he says it, he knows he was distracted by the visit to his friend Owen, by all the things that’ve changed but not changed while he’s been away.
Inhaling deeply through her nose, which is sporting a tiny diamond stud these days, she draws herself up to her full height – which is still a good few inches below his chin – before steadily releasing the air from her mouth. If he had to guess, he’d say she was praying for patience. ‘Well, the insurance companies can argue it out.’ She nods. ‘The main thing is no one got hurt.’
‘Until I get home,’ Jake mutters.
‘Huh?’
‘Nothing. Don’t worry about it.’ It’s not her fault his dad’s how he is. Still, at least now he’s the same size as his father.
He studies Leila. She’s short and slender, although the grey fake fur jacket with black jeans and ankle boots bulks her out. There are three earrings in her left lobe. A star, a moon, and a garnet. ‘Nice outfit,’ he says.
‘Right.’ She blinks. ‘Are you trying to be funny?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘About my outfit,’ she replies coolly. ‘Last summer you were pretty clear that my body should be covered up.’
He barks out a laugh. ‘You misunderstood me. I thought the wet T-shirt suited you.’ She’d been gorgeous that night, all big dark eyes and pale, moonlit skin.
‘Oh.’ She steps back, a frown pulling her eyebrows together. ‘Oh,’ she says in an odd tone, blushing.
Now her pale hair rests on her shoulders, the tips dyed lilac. It’s just like her to do something different, something outside the mainstream, but with her blonde eyebrows, light complexion, and petal-patterned grey irises, the overall effect is curiously bland. She needs a brighter colour. He always thinks of her as so vivid. Plus, he can’t believe she cut her hair. It was so amazing.
‘Jake?’ She’s watching him, cheeks reddening further as he stares at her. When she brushes her hair back from her face with a small graceful hand, tucking it behind one ear, the scent of strawberries fills the air. He also notices charcoal smudges on her index finger and thumb, and is glad she still draws.
Feeling self-conscious, he rubs a finger over his scar and forces a twisted smile. ‘Sorry. I was just thinking. You’ve cut all your hair off.’
‘Not all of it. But yeah, I needed a change.’ She gazes at his face, ‘Your scar’s a bit more pronounced than it used to be, because you’re so tanned.’
‘And?’ he queries, self-conscious and wishing she hadn’t brought attention to it.
She frowns. ‘Nothing. It’s very Pirates of the Caribbean. It’s quirky, and you know I don’t have a problem with quirky.’ Holding her arms out to point at her outfit.
In the distance, a high-pitched bell lets out three sharp shrills. ‘Oh, shit. I need to get to class.’ She throws a panicky look at the redbrick buildings behind them. ‘We should sort the cars out. Do you want me to try and drive forward again or—?’
‘No. Let’s take a proper look first.’ Striding to the back of her car, he leans over to inspect where it’s attached to the rear end of his.
As Jake is running his hands along the hooked bumpers, a member of school staff appears, shooing away all the gossiping students scattered across the car park. ‘Haven’t you all got lessons to get to? Come on, clear off, the bell’s gone,’ he barks. ‘Are you both all right?’ he asks, marching over to them. ‘Do I need to call an ambulance or inform the police?’
Jake shakes his head. ‘It’s under control. Give me five minutes and it’ll be sorted.’ Glancing up, he straightens to full height. ‘Bloody hell. Mr Strickland.’ He pauses, then adds, ‘I thought you’d be retired by now.’
Leila snorts, before turning it into a cough.
‘How do you—’ The teacher’s eyes squint as he concentrates. ‘Jake Harding. I remember you.’
‘Yes, Sir.’ Jake grins. He can’t help it. The man looks horrified.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Oh, I was thinking of coming back to do my A-levels. I know it’s a bit delayed, but still, it’s always worth a shot. I thought I’d try English. You’d enjoy that, right?’
‘I … ah …’ Mr Strickland’s face whitens.
‘Stop torturing him, Jake,’ Leila admonishes, ‘we both know that’s rubbish. You couldn’t wait to get out of here.’ She gives him a sideways look.
Jake shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. ‘She’s right. I was just here to see a friend for lunch. Owen Plaitford? We’d just said goodbye and I was leaving when Leila and I bumped cars. I’m not applying to come back, don’t worry.’
Mr Strickland relaxes, his chest puffing out as the anxiety slips away. ‘So, what are you doing these days? I can’t imagine you’ve made anything of yourself, after the way you behaved at school.’
Jake’s grin falls away at the derisive tone, and he stares at the older man. ‘You haven’t changed much, have you?’ He stands straighter. ‘But actually, I have. I got the basic qualifications I needed, left school, and joined the Marines. I was in officer training last year, all five phases, and went on my first mission a couple of months ago. So, whatever you might think of me or who I was back then, these days I’m proud to serve my Queen and country, and help keep others safe.’
Leila’s eyebrows rise, but she says nothing.
‘Oh.’ Mr Strickland’s mouth opens and closes like a vacant goldfish before he pulls himself together. ‘In that case, if I’m right to believe you, then well done.’
Jake’s face goes blank, but he manages a nod and then his chin tilts up, just by an extra millimetre. ‘Thank you,’ he replies in a low voice. He steps away. ‘Anyway, we’d better separate these cars and exchange details. We won’t be long; I’ll be gone soon.’
‘All right,’ the teacher agrees, ‘as you were then. Try not to be too late for English,’ he shoots at Leila, before hurrying from the car park.
‘Well, that was weird,’ she remarks, watching the man’s departing back. ‘It’s not like him to be nice.’ Jake’s already crouched down by the bumpers as she turns around. ‘Don’t you think, Jake? It was nice of him to say that to you, right?’
‘Whatever,’ he mutters. Bending back a piece of metal with a grunt, he stands and moves around to the driver’s side of his car, wiping his dirty hands on his jeans.
‘Whatever?’ She looks perplexed. ‘He said well done; he acted like he was proud of you. What’s not to like about that?’
‘It’s not him who should be proud of me. Look, just forget it.’
‘Oh. Right, I see. It’s about your dad.’ A beat of silence. ‘Look, Jake, what I said about you being like your dad at the beach party. I shouldn’t have. I never got the chance to say sorry properly. And I am sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he says, looking over her shoulder, but his voice is terse, betraying him.
‘But, I really didn’t—’
‘I said, let it go.’
She sucks in a breath. ‘Okay, if that’s what you want.’
‘It is.’ Getting into the BMW, he slams the car door and starts the engine. Reversing it carefully by a couple of centimetres, he slams it into first gear and shoots forward a metre or so. With a shearing sound, the cars break apart. He climbs back out and comes around to inspect the damage, wincing. After a moment, he shrugs. ‘It could be worse, I guess.’
Leila studies the buckled chrome bumper, her lips twisting. ‘Grandad’s not going to be happy with me. I’ve only had it a few weeks.’
‘I’m sure he’ll forgive you.’
‘Hopefully. Anyway –’ she changes the subject abruptly, spinning round to face him ‘– it doesn’t matter, does it? About what Mr Strickland said. Because you were making it up, right? You’re not in the Marines. It was a load of rubbish.’
He frowns. ‘Why would you say that?’
‘You’re the most rebellious person I know, Jake. Answering back and getting into fights. Jumping off Durdle Door. Getting thrown out of school. Plus, you’re here, not halfway across the world. So come on, stop being stupid, what have you actually been up to?’
For a second, his frown deepens but then he laughs and crosses his arms across his broad chest. ‘Yeah, you’re right. You got me. I’ve actually been in a youth offending detention centre for the last eighteen months.’
‘What … what for?’ Her eyes widen.
‘You’re unbelievable.’ He chuckles. ‘You’d rather believe I broke the law and was sent away than believe I might’ve found something worth doing with my life. Because of course people can never change, and there’s no way the rebellious stuff could’ve been a phase I was going through, or a reaction to an unhappy home life, could it?’ Her mouth drops open, but he carries on. ‘There’s no way that talking to someone I looked up to and respected as I was growing up, someone who’d served in the Navy and said it was the making of him, inspired me to want to do something better, to be someone better than my dad. And of course, leaving home, finding a purpose and something I’m good at and a family I belong in, isn’t a possibility you’d consider for me.’
‘Woah. Quite the soliloquy. Okay, I apologise if I got it wrong.’ She cocks her head, studying his face. ‘You do look different. More grown up.’ Then her gaze drifts down to his muscular forearms. Even though it’s a crisp November day, he’s wearing a black T-shirt. She shivers in the breeze whipping brown and auburn leaves around them, the wind sending them whistling along the concrete to form in damp piles in corners of the car park.
‘I believe you –’ her expression smooths out ‘– about the Navy, I mean. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. I was just surprised. How come the visit?’
‘We’re allowed shore leave. I wanted to see my mum, and my old stomping ground.’ He clears his throat. ‘You seem irritated with me sometimes. Why is that?’
‘Well, you can be pretty annoying. Cocky, and overprotective.’
‘Please,’ he says wryly, ‘you’ll give me a big head if you’re not careful.’
‘Sorry, but it’s just the way you can come across.’
‘I don’t mean to. I guess cheekiness can edge into cockiness, and as for overprotective, I’m just looking out for you.’
‘I appreciate that, Jake,’ she says, nodding, ‘but I find it a bit much, especially when it’s done without asking.’
‘Okay, noted. I’ll try not to do that,’ he says stiffly.
‘Don’t b
e like that. But you also called me spoilt at the party, and I didn’t really get it.’
Flushing, he shoves his hands in his pockets. ‘Sorry. Heat of the moment. I didn’t mean it. It’s just that I don’t always think you realise how lucky you are, and maybe sometimes you take things for granted.’
‘In what way?’ She frowns.
‘You’ve got a family—’
‘With a mum who buggered off, pretty much on my birthday,’ she replies flatly.
‘Maybe, but the family you do have protect, love, and care for you. Whereas I have both my parents but—’
‘You don’t have what I have,’ she finishes slowly. ‘Oh. I see. I never thought of it like that. I’m sorry. It must be hard.’ She looks sympathetic, reaching a hand out towards him.
Jake waves her words, and comfort, away. ‘Let’s not get into that.’ He can’t bear her pity. Besides, he’s not that beaten little boy anymore. ‘You were talking about all my worst traits?’
She laughs, casting him a wry smile. ‘Honestly? It’s not even that. This isn’t easy for me to say, but I’ve been annoyed at you for years for another reason.’
‘Really?’ He moves closer. ‘Why?’
‘I guess I was just surprised and disappointed that after you left town you never got in touch again. I never got to say thank you for returning Pandora and leaving me the book charm –’ she looks discomfited, and softens her voice kindly ‘– which, by the way, was really nice, but it’s mine and Mum’s thing so I’d rather you didn’t, thank you.’ Her voice hardens, ‘You stayed in touch with Owen after you left and hinted that you did with Grandad too. Then we just ran into each other by chance at the beach party. It’s not like you were looking for me.’
‘But I—’ he blurts, before grinding to a halt.
‘What?’ she leaps in.
How can he tell her that all the charms bar one have been from him, when he knows it will break her heart? For the last six years he’s bought her charms based on what Ray’s dropped into conversation about her life, whereas she’s believed her mum sends them. She draws comfort and hope from that belief.
The Last Charm Page 7