My Husband's Son - Deborah O'Connor Page 0,75

in front of the other. Once I was close enough for him to hear me over the weather, I said his name.

‘Jason?’

Nothing.

The thunder was overhead now and as it boomed there was a whip-crack of lightning that divided the sky in two. My insides rolled. His boots seemed way too heavy to be hanging over the side like that.

I needed to get nearer to him and so I got down on my bottom and shuffled forward until we were side by side.

‘Jay?’ The wind pushed his name back into my mouth and I coughed. ‘Look, I’m sorry about yesterday, about the folder. But I hadn’t gone looking for it on purpose, I promise.’

Still nothing.

I followed his gaze down, to the ground below. Its pull surprised me. There was an inevitability to the drop. It made me feel strangely calm. It would be so easy for us both to surrender to it. So easy for me to unclip my wire, take Jason’s hand and let ourselves fall off the edge. I wondered how the concrete would feel against our skin as we landed. I thought it would probably be like jumping into a cold pool; the way the pain was hardly noticeable if you just dived in without thinking and swam a lap to get warm.

‘I hit him. Did I ever tell you that?’

It took me a while to tune into the fact that he was telling me what was wrong. I rewound his words in my head, tried to process their meaning.

‘If you’re upset we can talk about it. Just not here. It’s not safe.’

‘It only happened the once. I smacked him on the bum.’ He used his thumb to rub at the girder between where we sat. The join in the weld was slightly raised and bumpy, like the keloid flesh of a scar that had healed. ‘We were crossing the road together and he let go of my hand. He almost ran into the traffic.’ He continued to rub at the girder, oblivious to everything but his need to recount what had happened. ‘I grabbed him just in time, but I was so scared. I don’t know why I did it. I was angry, I guess. You should have seen the look on his face. Pure betrayal. He never forgot.’

‘Oh, love,’ I said, wrapping my arm around his shoulders. He rested his head in the crook of my neck.

‘I miss being on-site. The lads. The weather.’

‘You do?’

I’d always been under the impression that the first aid had been a welcome escape. That he was a reluctant participant in the family trade. But then, maybe I’d never asked.

We sat there like that for a while, huddled together for warmth.

‘I don’t want to go on holiday. To Gran Canaria,’ he said eventually. ‘We’ll probably lose our deposit but I can’t face it. Not right now.’

‘Is that what all this is about?’ I said, relieved. ‘Why didn’t you say something sooner? Of course we can cancel. We can go some other time.’

He buried his head deeper into my shoulder and I put my arm around him, trying to shield him from the wind and rain.

‘What if we never find him, Heidi?’ His hair was sodden and as he pressed himself close, some of the droplets dripped onto my neck and down my back. ‘I don’t know how much longer I can do this.’

‘I know,’ I said, holding him close.

We were both soaked through, but we stayed together like that for a while yet, the river ribboning out to the sea below and nothing else around us but the roar of the wind and the constant pellets of rain, clanging hard against the steel.

Chapter Thirty-Six

At home the next morning, I woke to find myself lying on my side, my hands gripping the top of Jason’s arm.

I eased out of bed, tiptoed over to where my suit hung on the back of the door and tested the fabric between my thumb and forefinger. Still damp from the storm we’d sat through. The rain had mingled with my perfume and it smelt bad, like flowers that have been too long in their vase. I’d need something else to wear today. I opened the wardrobe and ran my hand along the line of suits sheathed in dry-cleaning bags, the thin plastic clicking against my nails before shushing back into place. Selecting a navy skirt suit, I set about freeing it from its cover.

All dressed, I went to shut the wardrobe, but the door was caught

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