The Spark - Jules Wake Page 0,98

all.’

My stomach turned over and over, as I bent over my knees, my face buried in the rich blue silk pooling around my thighs, waiting for the sick, light-headed sensation to pass.

‘Oh, can you pass me that cake-stand in the corner? That should do it. I ordered a hundred cup-cakes and now I’m thinking we’re going to be eating them for weeks.’

‘Perhaps you could give people party bags as they leave,’ suggested the other voice, growing fainter.

I straightened up, conscious of my knickers around my ankles and the sheen of sweat across my forehead. I needed to get out of here quickly before they came back. As fast as I could, I washed my hands, pulled back the lock, and peered the through the gap in the door, just as my phone started to ring, giving me a minor heart attack. Thank God it hadn’t rung a few seconds earlier.

Chapter Twenty-Four

‘Houston, we have a problem,’ drawled Holly’s voice as I scuttled out of the front door to take the call on the doorstep away from earshot.

Holly was on call this weekend, and it was rare for her to phone me unless there was a real emergency.

‘What’s happened?’ I sank onto the doorstep, crossing my fingers that nothing terrible had happened, feeling the kick of my pulse.

‘Jake’s school inadvertently posted a picture of him on Twitter.’

‘Oh shit.’ Social media was one of our biggest enemies. All it took was a picture of a child in a logoed sweatshirt online and it wasn’t difficult to track down the school. To be fair, the schools all got it. They were pretty vigilant about photos and social media; the problem was often other parents.

‘Dad spotted it. Stormed into the school on Friday demanding to see the kid.’

‘And did we know?’ Stupid question, because if we had, we’d have known about it on Friday afternoon before we’d knocked off for the weekend.

‘Nope. The head was out. Deputy head out. Mum told the school she’d let us know. Of course she didn’t because she’s terrified. The school office arranged transport home for her, and they sneaked her and the kid out of the back entrance, so Dad couldn’t follow.’

‘And we’re sure he didn’t?’

‘Well, no one’s come pounding on the door all weekend, so that’s as much as I can hope.’ Holly’s voice sounded resigned. ‘I knew something wasn’t right with Cathy, but you know how quiet she is.’

‘Yes,’ I said, my voice quiet and calm. There was no point getting cross; no one did these things deliberately and Holly and I were not there to judge. There were reasons we had protocols and policies, but every now and then someone slipped up. They were only human.

‘She kept herself to herself all weekend and then about half an hour ago, Jake became hysterical. It all came out. He’s terrified of going to school again.’

‘Oh God, poor boy. Did he see his dad on Friday?’

‘No, but he knew he’d been there.’

That was enough. School was supposed to be the safe place. The refuge was supposed to be a safe place. Beyond the reach of dads who were handy with their fists, loose of temper and purveyors of uncertain moods.

‘Do you want me to come in?’

‘Yes,’ said Holly, no nonsense or prevarication. ‘Everyone’s very twitchy. Cathy’s convinced her ex is going to turn up. I could do with you here to put on a united front and go over our lockdown procedure with everyone to reassure them all. How soon can you get here?’

I looked down at my dress. ‘Give me forty-five minutes. I need to nip home.’

‘Great. I’ll see you then.’

I disconnected the call and sat for a minute, rubbing my face, aware of the odd peal of laughter as I thought about the little boy, Jake. Eight years old, with a black eye that had taken a week to fade. I felt disconnected and separate and had to focus on my blue silk dress, brilliant and bold, to anchor me. Beyond me, the sounds of the party vibrated in the air – amiable chatter and a contented, untroubled atmosphere.

It took me a while to rise to my feet, my knees stiff from crouching and my bottom numb from the stone step. As I made my way back into the dim interior after the blinding sunlight, I stumbled on a step, feeling disorientated and out of touch.

Unaware of anyone else, I headed back to the spot where I’d left Sam. He’d moved and was now in a corner