How dare he do this? How dare he put these thoughts in my head? I don’t need this right now, with everything else going on.
Kiss him? ‘Arghh! Not likely,’ I mutter, stabbing his number into my phone. I press send on the text before I can think too much about it. Before I can admit I’m being irrational, hurtful, and unfair.
Harding, thanks for the card but get on with your own life instead of trying to run mine. Jones.
P.S. It’s a no thanks to giving the kiss another try
The irritation spurs me on to race down the stairs and bring all my stuff up, unpacking in a white-hot rush of frustration and adrenaline. When I’m done, I sit down, make a list, and pin it to the cork-board above my dressing table so I can see it every day.
1) Get a job
2) Help Dad pay the bills
3) Clean, cook and look after Dad
4) Paint
5) See El & Co
For the next few hours, I put an ache in my wrist and give myself burning eyes squinting at the drawing of fire and flames I sketch across my pad in charcoal. When I sit back, satisfied, my fingers are black and my head’s pounding but my annoyance with Jake is spent, the emotions channelled onto the paper.
Three weeks later, after pounding the pavements and unable to find any job connected with my degree, I accept a role in an office-supply company, co-ordinating stock. I’ve also caught up with El, Shell, and Chloe – surprisingly, she’s dating Jake’s friend Owen – and have folded neatly back into our friendship group. In some ways I feel more grown up, but in other ways it feels like I never left.
I comfort myself that at least there is one thing that remains uncomplicated, as I spin the bracelet around my wrist and run my finger over each of my precious charms.
Jake
August 2012
The Music Charm
‘Man, it’s been so long since I last saw you. Welcome home.’ Owen slaps Jake’s shoulder, before opening the van’s side door. ‘After you.’
‘Thanks. Great to be back, even if only for a few weeks.’ He grins at his shaggy-haired friend as he takes a seat, and for the first time in ages his smile feels genuine. That saying about a weight being lifted is true. He can’t believe his dad’s gone. The fucker has left, taken away in the middle of the night by the police for his involvement in some dodgy deal, and then warned off by his mum’s cousin Doug with threats of violence hanging over him if he ever returns to Bournemouth. Jake seriously doubts he’ll come back now his mum’s got Doug involved, given his reputation up north. So the guilt, worry, and creeping sense of doom have all vanished. His mum’s back in the house where she belongs, after a protracted absence, and has finally explained Leila’s original part in it all, breaking the promise she’d made not to tell. About a generous gesture almost three years ago that gave her the opportunity to be somewhere safe for a while, to break free of her husband’s hold. He’ll always be grateful, and can’t wait to see Leila today to thank her in person. The annoyance he felt at the lack of reply to his postcards, and the harsh text she sent after his graduation card, are forgotten.
Glancing at his watch, he sees they’re set to leave in five minutes. Is she going to make it?
Owen climbs in behind the wheel, and Chloe snuggles in next to him, squealing with excitement. ‘Road trip to Cardiff! Coldplay here we come!’ Jake remembers her as a bit of a grumbler, but being in a relationship with laid-back Owen has mellowed her. Maybe it’s true that being with the right person makes you a better one.
Jake cranes his head to look out of the open van door as Owen starts the engine, and sees her come running up.
‘Sorry, sorry,’ she pants, climbing into the van and sliding in next to him. Her long, tanned legs are bare in a short black skirt, and she’s wearing totally impractical high wedges. ‘I got caught up. But I’m here now, and I’m worth the wait, right?’ Leaning forward, she plants a mushy kiss on him.
Owen chortles in the background and Chloe lets out a snort, but Jake’s eyes are open and as Simone presses her lips harder against his, he sees movement from the corner of his eye and detaches himself.
‘Oh.’ Leila halts in the act of hoisting herself into the back of the van. ‘Jake, I didn’t see you there.’ Her expression is wary.
‘Hi.’ Jake smiles to put Leila at ease, ‘Long time, no see.’
Leila looks confused, nodding once as she clambers in.
Simone turns to look down her nose at the new arrival. ‘Who’s she?’ Curling her nails around Jake’s wrist and digging in.
With a frown, he eases her hand away. They’ve only dated a few times, and he doesn’t like how territorial she is. The only reason she’s here is because Owen unthinkingly mentioned in front of her that they had a spare ticket because someone dropped out. ‘This is Leila; she lives down the road. Jones, meet Simone.’
‘Hello,’ Leila mutters, sitting on the bench on the other side of the minibus.
She’s in cut-off denim shorts and a plain white V-neck T-shirt. The outfit is simple but it suits her, showcasing her lithe body and dark eyes. She’s wearing her charm bracelet, and a platinum pendant hangs down between her breasts. As she crosses her legs, Jake sees a thin chain around her ankle too. His eyes sweep over her, and he notices a new tattoo on the back of her right hand, a scattering of stars and swirls. She looks sexy and carefree. He’s missed her. It’s been years with all his tours and time in Africa, and trying to stay away from his dad, who was living in the house alone while his mum was in hiding.
Leila knocks on the window to someone outside. ‘Come on!’
‘Sorry, almost birthday girl!’ A tall guy with stark red hair and bright blue eyes swings into the back of the van. Jake’s irritated just looking at him. He’s like a male model off some cheesy aftershave ad.
‘Hi, Craig,’ Owen and Chloe chorus from the front seat.
Simone puffs her chest out and simpers, ‘Hello.’ Jake simply nods in greeting.
Craig bends his head to fit into the minibus before claiming his place beside Leila.
Owen puts the vehicle in gear. ‘Right, let’s get going. We’ve got nearly three hours ahead of us.’
Chloe lets out a whoop and Leila joins in laughingly, but her expression is strained. She’s had a blunt fringe cut in, and Jake thinks it makes her look older than she is. Craig wraps his arm around her shoulder and tucks her long silvery-blonde hair behind her ear. She smiles, her expression easing, and turns to gaze out of the window.
Jake’s stomach lurches and he grabs hold of Simone’s hand, squeezing hard.
***
The Millennium Stadium is teeming with lines and crowds of people, pulsing with energy and anticipation, and the noise level makes Jake wonder if his hearing will ever be okay again. The atmosphere is dense, the heat stifling, and Jake’s weather antennae – something you develop when you spend so much time at sea – are twitching. Owen, Craig, and Jake are standing in line for beer while the support act plays.
The girls have gone to the toilets together, although the way Leila and Chloe linked arms and walked ahead of Simone made Jake feel a bit sorry for her. He promises himself he’ll make more of an effort with his date when she returns. It doesn’t help that he slept the whole way here, partly to avoid seeing Craig and Leila snuggled up together and partly because he’s knackered. He’s learnt to sleep anywhere during his years with the Navy.
The way Simone’s eyes were rolling in her head and the amount of empty cans of wine she’d discarded in the bin on arrival don’t bode well for the rest of the evening.
‘So, how long have you and Jones been dating?’ Jake turns to Craig, keeping his tone casual.
‘A few months.’ Craig raises one perfectly arched eyebrow. ‘Jones?’
‘I’ve been calling her that since we were teenagers.’
‘You’ve known her that long?’
‘Yeah. I lived on her road, in her old house.’
‘She never mentioned you. Sorry, mate,’ he says condesc
endingly, slapping a hand on Jake’s shoulder, enough strength behind it to be a warning.
It doesn’t sting as much as Leila’s omission does. ‘It’s fine, mate.’ Jake’s voice is light, but he uses the full force of his arm muscles to return the gesture. ‘I’m away a lot for work.’
Craig stumbles forward then looks at Jake warily before righting himself. Owen stifles a snigger beside them.
‘Our turn.’ Jake motions to the serving window. ‘I’ll be back in a minute, get me a beer?’
‘Sure,’ Owen nods. Craig simply scowls.
Coming out of the toilets a few minutes later, Jake sees Leila a few steps ahead of him, making her way back to the others. Reaching out, he touches her left shoulder blade, his fingers accidentally tangling in her long pale hair.
Frowning, she stops and spins around. ‘Oh. Hi.’
‘Sorry, didn’t mean to try and lasso you.’
‘Are you comparing me to a wild horse?’ she asks, while being jostled by passers-by.
‘Nah, they’re too headstrong and untameable. You’re not that bad.’
‘Hah! Thanks. What would you compare me to then?’ she asks watchfully, grey eyes dark as she moves closer to hear him speak.
‘A unicorn. They’re pretty magical.’ Jesus, he sounds like a ten-year-old, which is pretty much the way he always feels around her. The twenty-three-year-old guy who travels around the world on ships, carries a gun most days, and commands troops ceases to exist. It’s like the man haunted by his father and scarred by his upbringing disappears, leaving behind someone fresh, whole, and full of hope.
She throws back her head and laughs. ‘A unicorn? Oh, brilliant. Thanks, Jake. You’ve made my day.’
‘Glad to be of service.’ He bends over in a mock bow, covering up his embarrassment.
‘So, how are you? You seem … different. Lighter somehow.’
‘I’m good. I am lighter. And it’s thanks to you.’
‘Oh?’ she responds warily, pushing her hair back behind one ear to reveal a dangling silver multi-earring of stars and moons.
He moves nearer, edging her over to lean against the wall and out of the path of the crowd. He lowers his voice. ‘Mum told me what you did for her, with the money, helping her get out back then. She also thinks you had something to do with the police appearing last week. You know she’s back home now?’
‘It wasn’t hard to call in an anonymous tip, seeing vans coming and going at all hours. And I’m glad she’s back, but she wasn’t supposed to say anything.’ Crossing her arms, she drops her voice to a whisper. ‘I didn’t want you to know.’
Jake has to lean forward to hear her. ‘Why?’
‘I wanted to help her because it was the right thing to do, and because I could. Plus, I didn’t want you feeling you owed me anything. And as much as you annoy me at times, it was partly in thanks for your letter, and the rainbow charm. They really helped me through a tough time.’ She hesitates, then says, ‘I hate to admit it because you can be a bit big-headed, but when I’m having a shitty day, your letter reconnects me to what’s important. It reminds me not to let the day-to-day stresses become everything, to remember there’s a bigger picture and that I have a lot to be grateful for.’
‘I’m glad.’ He feels emotion swell in his throat but chooses not to make her uncomfortable with any further comment. ‘And as for Mum, she kept your secret for years, but was feeling emotional being back in Bournemouth in our house, with me turning up for a visit. She accidentally spilled, but wouldn’t share the details. So tell me, how did you manage it? All I knew at the time was that she was somewhere safe.’
Leila bites her lip. ‘I was home from uni for a weekend and waited until your dad went out one day. I took a chance he wouldn’t be back for a bit. I went to her with a rucksack full of banknotes and said she had five minutes to pack up anything she couldn’t live without, and then we were going. She was shocked, but I held the front door open and told her she had this one chance to walk through it. I’d spoken with a refuge beforehand, near Woking, and arranged it all. She was really scared, but I somehow convinced her to be brave. And she was.’
‘That’s pretty impressive, and courageous. A bit Daenerys really.’ He refers to the Mother of Dragons from Game of Thrones, who most of his troop have a massive crush on.
‘Cavorting around half naked with Drogo?’ she jokes. ‘It’s funny because Eloise calls me that sometimes.’
‘Well, you have got the silvery hair, and you’re both small …’
She slaps him lightly on the arm. ‘Oi!’
He grins, then becomes sombre. ‘Look, in all seriousness, thank you for everything you did for Mum. I mean it. Are we friends now? Even if I annoy you sometimes? You did more or less tell me to bugger off in that text …’
She winces, ‘Sorry about that. I wasn’t in a good place after graduating. I shouldn’t have been so harsh. It just annoyed me that you seemed to get exactly how I was feeling.’ She smiles, raising her eyebrows. ‘No one likes a know-it-all.’
‘Touché.’ Jake smiles back.
‘I was also annoyed that your postcards were so … cold.’ She raises her voice above the increasing volume, excitement thrumming down the hallway as the crowd surges towards the doors leading to the stage, the supporting act nearing the end of their set.
He stares at her. ‘They weren’t meant to be, but I often wrote them in a rush and –’ he pushes a hand through his black hair ‘– you have to be careful what you put in written correspondence. Both for security reasons and because the lads will rip you to shreds if they see anything too soppy. Sorry.’
‘Oh,’ she mutters, looking away and playing with her charm bracelet, spinning it around her wrist. ‘I didn’t think of that. Not that you’d write anything soppy to me anyway. We’re just friends.’
‘Yes,’ he states firmly, wanting the acknowledgement, ‘we are.’
‘Cool.’ She smiles faintly but a frown lingers on her forehead.
He thinks about her earlier comment. ‘You really think I’m big-headed?’
‘Cocky is the word I’ve always used.’
‘Hmmm. Well, just remember there’s a difference between bolshiness as a teenager to cover up your inadequacies, and cockiness because you think you’re God’s gift.’
‘Pfft! What have you possibly got to be inadequate about? You’re one of the most confident people I know. I mean, you spent six months in Africa helping dig wells and build villages, right? And your day job is as responsible and worthy as it gets.’
‘Maybe I’m confident now because I’ve found my place in the world, but not back then.’ He realises the food and drink stands are nearly empty and the crowd is dissipating. ‘We’d better get going.’
‘Wait. I’ve been wondering … You looked pleased to see me earlier but Owen said you’d been back a week. Is there a reason you haven’t dropped round to say hello?’
‘The last time we actually spoke was after the mis— After the baby,’ he murmurs. ‘You were angry because I kissed you, and made out we weren’t friends. You also never replied to my postcards. So, I wasn’t sure whether to come around or not.’ Straightening up, he shakes his head. ‘Look, I fucked up on the beach. I’m really sorry.’
She acknowledges his words with a nod. ‘So, you weren’t sure about what kind of welcome you’d get?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Look, it was a horrible time, but I understand you were trying to do a good thing coming to find me at Durdle Door. I took my frustrations out on you. I won’t deny your timing sucked, but I’m willing to let it go if you are. Life’s too short, right? All we have is time.’ Her face softens.
The phrasing chimes a bell in Jake’s mind. A letter he wrote years ago. ‘Is that … Are you …? Is that a quote from something you read?’ He asks, his back stiffening.
‘I, uh …’ She closes her eyes, then opens them again, and takes a deep breath. ‘Yes. It’s from a letter you sent Ray. After he die
d –’ she flinches, eyes pained ‘– Dad gave me a box of letters you wrote him.’
‘They may have become your property, but you didn’t have any right to read them. They were private.’ It feels like an invasion; the letters are so deeply personal, so full of his thoughts and fears.
‘I know, I’m sorry.’ She holds her hands up, palms out. ‘I only read one after the funeral, I promise. Dad was so disappointed with how I treated you and wanted me to understand how close the two of you were, how important you were to each other, and how –’ she nods ‘– you had every right to grieve for him. I came to see you, but you’d already left. You can have the letters back if you want?’
‘Yes, please. Mum can store them at the house.’
‘Okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘You haven’t. Don’t worry.’ He rubs his top lip, where his scar is aching. The weather is quickly closing in. ‘Come on,’ he yells above a sudden wave of noise from the stage, ‘they’re on, let’s go.’ The powerful, beautiful, and distinctive opening notes of ‘The Scientist’ echo through a nearby archway and he grabs her hand, pulling her through into the main arena. Scanning the crowds, the standing room in front of the stage which he and his friends have bought tickets for, he knows they’ve got no hope of finding them, at least until they have a break in the set later. Pulling Leila in front of him so he can keep an eye on her, he nudges her forward until they find a tiny space in the crowd to stand.
‘I can’t see!’ She jumps around trying to catch a glimpse above people’s heads. But she’s still happy, singing along with Chris Martin as he tells a story about going back to the start.
The Last Charm Page 16