Another grim laugh, but she heard something else in the laugh. Fear maybe?
After that the conversation fizzled out and there was a long silence. He held her close, and she could feel his heart beating. While out in the storm she had felt the wind behind her back driving her. Propelling her. She had felt terrified that she was about to die. But now all that was making her think, making her feel, forcing her to speak her mind.
‘You shut yourself off from me, Jack, from life,’ she suddenly burst out. ‘Why?’
‘What?’
He sounded irritated. Nevertheless, she continued. ‘After what we both just went through, I must ask. Weare connected. Be honest. You know we are and yet you keep denying it.’
‘I haven’t said a word.’
‘Does it need words?’
‘I don’t understand you.’
‘Oh, but you do. You keep me at arm’s length. What are you so frightened of?’
‘That was a confrontation with death today,’ he said, sounding exasperated. ‘That’s what I was frightened of.’
‘No, that isn’t true, you aren’t scared of dying. It isn’t that. What you’re scared of is living.’
He drew away from her in silence, the atmosphere tense. He didn’t reply immediately, then he said, ‘Can we just drop it, Florence?’
‘What are you avoiding, Jack?’
He snorted. ‘You have no idea.’
‘Then tell me,’ she said, raising her voice.
She heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘Very well. You’re right. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was scared ofyoudying.’
‘Me?’
‘You are my responsibility,’ he said, his voice catching.
That’s it, she thought. That’s it. ‘You’re still holding so much pain inside you,’ she said almost to herself.
He didn’t speak for a moment. When he did his voice was ragged and deep. ‘I didn’t keep my little boy safe. And I didn’t keep you safe from the BNA men who raped you.’
She heard the anguish and longed to make him feel better, but sensing he was on the verge of telling her everything, she kept quiet.
‘The loss of a child is indescribable.’ He paused for amoment and when he spoke again there was a tremor in his voice. ‘It was my job … but I couldn’t protect him.’
Her heart twisted and she ached to reach out to him but he carried on speaking so she simply listened.
‘I can’t allow myself to love, Florence, do you see? I did not deserve the child I lost. When Charlie died, I reached the end of the line. I could never endure grief like that again.’
‘Oh Jack.’
She heard him sob and then suddenly he was weeping and taking great gulping breaths. She did not try to stop him and felt her own eyes grow damp. Had he ever cried about the loss like this? She doubted it. Men like Jack rarely cried.
She stroked his back and after a while, still shuddering, he ran a hand over his wet cheeks. ‘Sorry.’
She didn’t speak but reached for his hand.
‘Hélène once asked me if I wanted a family,’ he said.
‘What did you tell her?’
