Pete smiled as he remembered Jake’s words earlier. It had been such a strange thing to say, but it was funny. He was a funny kid. A nice kid. He was creative. He was a character. Probably a handful to deal with too, just like Tom had been at times.
Pete allowed himself to think about Jake for a few moments more. He could imagine sitting down and talking to the boy. Playing with him, the same way he might—and should—have done with Tom when he had been a child. It was foolish, of course. There was nothing there. In a couple of days, his involvement with the pair of them would be over, and he’d probably never see them again.
But even so, he decided that he wasn’t going to drink.
Not tonight.
Easy to throw the glass, of course. Always easy to do that. Instead, he stood up, walked through to the kitchen, and poured it slowly away into the sink. He watched the liquid trailing away down the drain, and alongside the urge in his chest he thought about Jake again and felt something he hadn’t experienced in years. There was no reason to it. No sense. And yet there it was.
Hope.
Part Four
Thirty-six
The next morning, when I dropped Jake off at school, I was still quietly amazed by how well he’d adapted to our new circumstances. Last night in the safe house, he had dropped off to sleep without complaint, leaving me to sit alone in the living room afterward with my laptop and my thoughts. When I’d finally gone to bed, I’d gazed down at him, and his face had looked so serene that I’d wondered if he was actually more at peace here than he was in our new home. I’d wondered what, if anything, he was dreaming.
But then, I often thought that.
For myself, even as tired as I was, the unfamiliar surroundings had made it harder to sleep than ever, so it was a relief when he was well behaved and easy to manage that morning. Perhaps he was treating this all as some kind of exciting adventure. Whatever the reason, I was grateful for it. I was so exhausted, and my nerves so on edge, that I wasn’t sure I’d have been up to any real challenges.
We drove to the school, and then I walked him to the playground.
“Are you okay, mate?”
“I’m fine, Daddy.”
“All right, then. Here you go.” I handed him his water bottle and book bag. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He walked off to the door, the bag swinging beside his leg. Mrs. Shelley was waiting there. I hadn’t had the conversation with Jake that I’d promised I would. I’d just have to hope that today was a little easier for him, or at least that he didn’t punch anyone.
“You still look like shit.”
Karen fell into step beside me as I walked back out through the gates. She was still dressed up in her huge coat, despite the warmth of the morning.
“Yesterday, you were worried about offending me when you said that.”
“Yeah, but it didn’t, did it?” She shrugged. “I slept on it and figured it was probably okay.”
“Then you slept a lot better than I did.”
“That I can see.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “What are you up to now? Fancy grabbing a coffee, or do you have to run off and be tired somewhere else?”
I hesitated. I had nothing to do. I’d told my father I needed my laptop for work, but the likelihood of me accomplishing anything in this state was pretty minimal. Today was likely to be a case of treading water and hoping some kind of land would eventually appear—killing time, basically—and looking at Karen now, I figured there were worse ways to do that.
“Sure,” I said. “That would be nice.”
We walked down to the main road, where she led me past the small corner shop and village post office to a delicatessen called the Happy Pig. There were meadow scenes painted on the windowed front, and the inside was rustic and crammed with wooden tables, like a farmhouse kitchen.
“Bit pretentious.” She pushed open the door and a bell tinkled. “But the coffee’s acceptable.”
“As long as it’s got caffeine in it.”
It certainly smelled good. We ordered at the counter, standing beside each other a little awkwardly while we waited and not speaking for the moment. Then we took our drinks over to