I don’t mean to snap at her. I mean to love her, to calm her, to look after her. But what we mean and what we say are not always the same thing.
‘You never want to talk about it! You treat me like I’m a little kid, like I can’t handle anything, like none of this affects me. But it does affect me. This is my family too. And I just don’t understand it. I’ve been thinking about it ever since we got here. Molly, and Alice and Uncle Jack … They all seem so normal. I always thought they’d be like these crazy, awful people from the way you never wanted to talk about them or for me to meet them. But they’re not. They’re actually pretty amazing.’
I grip the steering wheel hard, focusing on the road ahead. I just need to get us back. I just need to get us home.
‘I used to think we never saw your family because of something they did. But coming here and meeting them, it makes me wonder whether it’s actually because of somethingyoudid.’
We’ve reached Hilly Farm by now. I stop the car. Ella looks at me, waiting for me to say something. But before I do she opens the car door and dashes out through the rain, head down and hugging her coat to her body, disappearing inside the farmhouse. I turn off the engine and sit with my hands gripping the wheel, listening to the rain that falls like shattering glass on the roof. Alone in the car, I place my forehead on the wheel and stay there until my hands have stopped shaking. I stay there for a long time.
Chapter 20
Alice
Jack slumps back against the pile of boxes, his shoulders heaving. The rain pelts against the window.
‘Daddy?’ asks Molly cautiously, stepping towards him. She hasn’t called him that in years. I reach out an arm for her, pulling her back.
‘Sweetheart, why don’t you go and carry on sorting through your room?’
She looks across at Jack, who hasn’t moved and doesn’t look up, and then back at me.
‘Is he OK?’
‘Everything’s going to be fine, darling, don’t you worry.’
I kiss her on the forehead. Uncertainly she glances across at Jack again and then turns and leaves. I close the door softly behind her and join Jack, leaning myself up against the stack of boxes beside him. His body trembles, but I can’t tell whether it’s with tears or anger.
We’d been sorting through the kitchen when he stood suddenly and turned away. I thought nothing of it, imagining he needed a moment to himself, that perhaps being here in the house where he grew up surrounded by his parents’ things was too much for him. I didn’t follow him, instead continued sorting through the cupboards. But then I heard shouting coming from upstairs. Heading up to see what was going on I bumped into Molly and Ella in the corridor, looking anxiously at one another and then down the hall towards the noise. The girls followed behind me. But by the time we arrived in the doorway Jack and Lorna were quiet again, staring at one another as though across a great distance. And then Lorna had left, taking Ella with her. Last night I was sure they’d taken a small step closer to one another, but now this … Lorna must have taken the keys for our car because I heard the rumble of an engine over the rain and the sound of tyres spinning on the damp track.
I place a hand gently on Jack’s knee.
‘Darling? What happened?’
He shakes his head, his chin dropped to his chest, hands clenched by his sides. But he says nothing.
‘Sweetheart, please. Talk to me.’
I twist my head, trying to meet his eye. But it’s like I’m not there.
‘Please,’ I say again, feeling desperate now. I perch next to him in this room full of boxes thinking about all the things we’re both shutting away.
‘We should get back home too,’ I say eventually, when it becomes clear he’s not going to say anything. ‘You’re clearly not up to doing any more here today. We’ll come another time.’
For a moment I wonder if he’s not going to move but when I stand and head to the doorway he follows silently. I gather a bewildered Molly, leading her downstairs with my arm around her as Jack follows behind. She doesn’t say anything either but her face is washed out. I try to reassure her by pulling her slightly closer to me.
I climb into the driver’s side of the Land Rover and Jack steps in silently beside me. The rain has stopped now but there are still dark clouds on the horizon, the threat of more rain in the air. Outside, the island is damp and green. Inside the car the air is stale and silent.
When we reach the farm, our car parked up out front, Jack strides quickly away towards the fields. I slam my door and run a few paces after him.
‘Jack, please,’ I shout, my voice lifting on the breeze coming in from the sea, the same breeze that tangles my hair and lifts the edges of my jacket like a sail. ‘You can’t keep running away from your problems.’
He turns back now.
‘Running away? I’m not the one who ran away.’
‘I know, but …’
Before I can continue he walks away again.
