Lucky git. Has she got a sister?Jason typed.
I’ll ask.
Jason smiled ruefully.Fill me in tomorrow, he texted back.Cheers for your efforts, mate. I owe you.
Muting his phone, Jason sighed in frustration and acknowledged he was possibly a touch jealous of his friend’s freedom. What he’d give to be that carefree occasionally. Was he truly envious though? His marriage had hit a rough patch, but it could be fixed, given they could relearn how to communicate. He would quite like someone to be listening when he tried to. Judging by the profile photo, though, he doubted if the woman in it would be up for a night’s not-so-scintillating verbal intercourse. She might well be a complete nutjob, and probably didn’t look anything like her profile. Attempting to console himself with that thought, he climbed the stairs, swallowing back his guilt at even entertaining the idea as he bypassed his kids’ bedroom doors.
Five
KARLA
As it’s Saturday, and Jason was so late to bed after seeing to Josh, I left him to lie in for a while. Hearing him stirring now overhead, I flick the coffee machine on. I make it strong, thinking we could both use it after a stressful night.
‘Holly, Josh!’ I call, hoping to entice the kids to eat something rather than squabble about CBBC’sThe Playlistand which episode was cool.
‘I’m not watching that one.’ Holly’s voice drifts huffily from the lounge. ‘Alessia Cara’s playlist is way cooler.’
‘Well, go and watch it on your iPad then,’ Josh retorts. ‘I bagsied the TV first.’
‘No, youdid not, you little toad. I’ve been down here ages.You’renot even dressed yet. And anyway, I’m older than you, so I get to choose.’
‘No, you do not.Geddoff!Mum, tell her,’ Josh cries. ‘She’s snatching the remote off me again.’
‘Telltale,’ Holly mutters. ‘Weedy little—’
‘Holly!’ I cut her short, skidding into the hall. ‘Kitchen.Now!Both of you.’ Wearing my no-nonsense face, I wait while my little darlings slope past me – Josh sulkily, Holly mumbling and looking po-faced.
‘Stop picking on him, Holly,’ I say, behind her. ‘Repeating what the other children say at school is not clever.’
‘What? I’m not.’ Holly splays her hands innocently. ‘Anyway, he started it.’
‘Did not,’ Josh mumbles from the kitchen. ‘Youdid.’
‘Enough, you two,’ I warn them, ‘or no more TV today andnoallowance.’ Sighing exasperatedly, I follow them, and almost collide with Jason, who’s hurrying down the stairs, wearing his work clothes and carrying his laptop bag and mobile, I notice, surprised.
‘You’re going into the office?’ I ask him, trying not to sound peeved that he’s working again at the weekend. I feel awful about him sleeping in the spare room. And, judging by the shadows under his eyes, which seem to grow darker every day, he doesn’t look as if he’s actually slept much. I wish I hadn’t turned him down in bed last night. That would have been so humiliating for him, given how dejected he must already have been feeling. He probably assumed I was upset about his refusal to approach my father for financial help. I was, but it was more the things he’d said about Dad that got to me. I just couldn’t push them away this time – the memories, the empty loneliness I’d felt after Sarah had gone. My mother hardly ever talks about her, and my father… It’s as if he’s forgotten she existed. How does a person do that? Forget about their own flesh and blood?
I watched him as a child sometimes, willing him to look at me with some acknowledgement of the unbearable guilt I was carrying. He did occasionally, but his eyes always held a warning. As time went on, I stopped believing his threats that terrible things would happen if I told what had happened on the day Sarah died. But I never did tell, for my Mum’s sake. I tried to bury it instead. As I watch my father through adult eyes, though, I wonder, does he realise the psychological damage he’s caused me? I don’t think I’ll ever sleep soundly again. I will always have this knot of anger curled tight inside me. Sometimes, when something reminds me and my mind plays it over, I want to scream, to release the anger – and shut out Sarah’s voice, which is always there, constantly whispering in my head. I never do. My acting skills allow me to switch off, to be somewhere else.
Last night at the party, I channelled my emotions into the dance, feeling blissfully carefree for a while. I still can’t quite believe Jason was jealous of the toy boy, though I understand why he would have been, having been made to feel useless by my father. I feel bad for him. Yet, when we came home, I turned on him. Or that’s how it must have seemed to Jason. I wish he would believe that my loyalties lie with him, that I believe in him. If only he could believe in himself. Yes, I want him to do something that goes against his principles, but only because accepting a loan from my father will allow his business to survive; allow us to move house eventually, and get him out of our lives.
Jason doesn’t appear to have heard me speaking to him. Looking preoccupied, he dumps his computer bag and his mobile on the hall table and searches through his pockets. ‘Haven’t seen my wallet, have you?’ he asks, a frown crossing his face.
‘On the dressing table,’ I supply. ‘I found it in the bathroom this morning. You must have left it in there last night.’
‘Oh, right. Cheers,’ Jason says distractedly, and turns back to the stairs.
‘Are you going into the office?’ I ask him again, as he bounds up them.
‘Yes, sorry,’ Jason calls back. ‘Mark’s made some headway with the software problem. I’m hoping we’ll be able to video link with the client later. Are you okay with that?’
‘Yes, fine,’ I assure him, hiding my disappointment and mentally crossing my fingers for him. ‘You did say you would go to the park and play football with the kids, but I’m sure they won’t mind me as a substitute.’
‘Damn!’ Jason turns at the top of the stairs. ‘I forgot.’ He shrugs guiltily. ‘Do you mind?’
‘No problem.’ I smile. I’m determined to make sure Holly and Josh do stuff that doesn’t involve looking at a screen: outdoor things, preferably – everything from planting a bulb and watching it grow to flying a kite. Jason will probably be glad to be off the hook. As the park backs onto Mum and Dad’s house, I usually drop in whenever we go, and I know Jason would hate every minute.
‘Apart from the fact that Mum can’t play football,’ Holly pipes up from the kitchen.
