The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,69

glanced across the car.

‘That’s quite unequivocal.’

‘Unequivocal is such a teachery word.’

Sam ignored my pathetic attempt at deflection.

‘An unequivocal “no” says there’s more to it than that.’

‘You’re a mind reader, now?’ I quirked a wasted eyebrow because his eyes were still on the road, both hands competently guiding the steering wheel, putting me in mind of a captain at the helm of his ship. Sam was good at steering through choppy seas.

‘I know you, Jess.’

I sighed, part of me a little pleased at his insight and another part knowing that it was time to let some of this out. It had been bottled up inside me for so long.

‘My dad left out of the blue – or at least it felt like that. I don’t remember any rows or arguments. Just, one day he wasn’t there.’

‘Ouch, that’s tough. Were you close to him?’

I lifted my head suddenly like a deer scenting danger.

‘No.’ I spat the word out so quickly that Sam whipped round to look at me, inquiry in his eyes. No one had ever asked that question before.

I gave him a quick, shifty glance before I added in a quiet voice, ‘Maybe?’

There was silence. It took me a minute to sift through ancient images in my head before I could elaborate. ‘I think I might have been. I’ve kind of shut it out but I remembered today, he used to take me to the park a lot. And he read stories.’ Unbidden, a memory popped into my head, fully formed with no wispy elusive tails that I had to chase after. Me in the crook of Dad’s arm, snuggled into the sofa as he read the first Harry Potter. He’d gone to town on the Dursleys’ voices. A flood of happiness washed over me with the realisation that he’d taken as much pleasure from reading the book as I’d had listening. The memory crystallised with startling clarity. It could have been yesterday. Reading together had been our thing.

‘He walked away and it was … it was the worst thing.’ Except had he walked away? What if Mum, like Victoria today, had driven him away? What if she’d been less emotional? Might he have come to see me?

‘Things at home were … Mum had, I suppose now you’d call it a complete mental breakdown, except then it was called “not coping”.’ I winced. ‘Sure you want to hear this?’

‘I think you need to talk about it,’ said Sam as he glanced at the slip road coming up. ‘Why don’t we pull off here, park up at the reservoir and take a walk?’

It gave me time to gather up the loose ends of all the memories and put them into a narrative order. They’d been so chaotic and jumbled in my head for so long, now it was like smoothing out a piece of rolled-up wallpaper.

The sun sparkled on the water as we walked along the parched brown grass of the retreating reservoir. It was ringed by a wide muddy band, illustrating just how much the unseasonably hot summer had shrunk the water’s boundaries.

Sam took my hand. ‘Your mum. You said she wasn’t coping.’

‘That’s an understatement. At first, just after Dad had gone, she was angry, shouty and she cried a lot. I was at school then so it wasn’t quite so bad. But then school broke up and suddenly we didn’t have a routine. We didn’t need to be anywhere or do anything and she just stopped. Stopped getting out of bed. Stopped talking. Stopped washing. Just stopped doing anything. We didn’t leave the house. We didn’t see anyone. She fell out with Aunty Lynn. I don’t know what about, but it meant that if Aunty Lynn phoned, Mum just wouldn’t answer the phone. I guess Aunty Lynn assumed she still wasn’t talking to her. She and Mum have never got on well. Aunty Lynn had no idea how bad things had got.’

‘What about you? What did you do?’

I pulled a face. ‘Tried to fend for myself. I sort of went feral. Prowling around the house. Opening cupboards and drawers, looking at things I wasn’t supposed to touch. Watching television all the time. Going to bed when I felt like it. At first I ate whatever I could find and whatever I wanted. Biscuits, sweets. When those ran out, I ate cereal – dry because there was no milk. I worked my way through the cupboards. Then, when the readily accessible stuff ran out, I raided Mum’s purse. Took her money