Authors: Jane Casey
Awkward …
Seb’s dad was carrying on, blithely unaware of what I was thinking. “I’ll make sure you get some time together. I’ll keep guard on the door so no one interrupts you.”
“Oh.” I’d gone red. “There’s no need. I mean, I just wanted a word with him in private.”
“Of course. But you don’t need any interruptions.” I could tell he didn’t believe we were just going to talk. He actually winked. “Don’t tire him out.”
I shot into Seb’s room and shut the door. Even if I’d been nervous about talking to him, prolonging the conversation with his dad was unthinkable.
If I’d been worried about interrupting a tender scene, I needn’t have bothered. Mrs. Dawson was sitting in a chair a long way from the bed, the ever-present magazine open on her lap. Seb was leaning against a stack of pillows. His face had healed a lot since I’d seen him on Monday but it was still pretty dramatically swollen and covered in stitches. It was hard to read his expression but I thought he looked surprised. “Hello.”
“Hi.” I walked over to the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?”
“Like crap. Jess, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“I thought you two were going out,” Mrs. Dawson said, suddenly suspicious.
“And I thought you two weren’t having an affair,” I said. “But then I saw Seb’s phone.”
Mrs. Dawson put her hand to her mouth. Seb sat up. “What do you want?”
“Straight to the point. I like it.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Not to blackmail you, if that’s what’s worrying you. But for the record, I think what you did was disgusting and you should both be ashamed of yourselves. Especially you, Mrs. Dawson.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” she said. “Please.”
“I don’t want Beth to know about it so I won’t. But I think it was completely grim.”
“It was a one-time thing. Bad judgment. It’ll never happen again.”
“Damn right it won’t,” Seb said, glowering at his stepmother. So the hostility wasn’t faked, after all. At least Mrs. Dawson had been honest about that.
“I saw your husband outside,” I said to her. “I think he’s waiting for you.”
She jumped up and hurried to the door. She didn’t look at me or Seb as she left the room, but I saw her rearranging her face into a brittle smile for Mr. Dawson’s benefit. I wasn’t sure if I felt more sorry for him or for her.
“What do you want?” Seb asked again.
“Your little sister asked me to find out why all this happened to you.”
“Did she?” He looked wary. “Did you?”
“I’ve been talking to lots of people about you this week. People you upset. People you hurt. People who had every reason to want to get back at you for the things you did to them. You ended up in here because of the way you behaved, and it’s time for that to change.”
“Is this going to be a lecture? Should I take notes?”
“Whatever helps you to remember it.” I folded my arms. “I came to one conclusion, Seb. You are a really unpleasant person. You take advantage of people for your own fun. You started all this. If you hadn’t been blackmailing Harry Knowles instead of reporting him to the cops, he wouldn’t have tried to kill you. And me, for that matter.”
“They told me he’s dead.”
“That’s on your conscience too. I’d think twice about talking to the police about why he attacked you. You don’t come out of it well.”
Seb shook his head, but he wasn’t looking me in the eye any more.
“Do you know what most people said to me? They said you had it coming. How does that make you feel?”
“I don’t care.”
“If I was in hospital, in intensive care, I’d like to think someone would worry about me.” I looked around. “No
Get Well Soon
cards, Seb. You’ve been here for almost a week.”
“Have you just come here to make me feel worse about myself? Seriously?”
“Pretty much. The things you’ve done are unforgivable.”
“So?”
“So now would be the perfect time for you to pretend that knock on the head has changed your personality. You get a second chance.” I stood up. “I used the word
unforgivable
, but other people are nicer than me. You might find they’re prepared to accept your apologies, if you really mean them.”
“I’ve got nothing to apologize for,” he said.
“Just everything you did and everything you said.” I shook my head. “You must be such an unhappy person to behave the way you do. Why don’t you try doing things differently for a change? See how it goes.”
He didn’t answer me. I stood up and went to the door, then stopped. “You know, I was wrong. There was one person who was genuinely upset you were in here. Beth loves you. Even when I had to tell her you had done some terrible things, she still felt the same way. She’s your sister and she cares about you, even knowing what the real you is like. It might not even change her mind if she knew what you’d done with her mother, but I’m not going to test her and I suggest you don’t either.”
He put a hand up to cover his eyes, struggling not to cry.
“You don’t deserve to have a sister like her at the moment,” I said. “But one day, you might.”
He gave a proper sob. I felt a glow of satisfaction that evaporated as I remembered one more thing I needed to mention. I stopped at the door.
“By the way—if your dad says anything to you about me, just play along with it, OK?”
“What sort of thing?” Seb looked at me, red-eyed.
“He thinks I’m your girlfriend.”
“What?”
“Long story. Anyway, for the avoidance of doubt, we just broke up.”
I left without waiting for a fond good-bye. I’d said what I could. It was up to him to decide what to do. I didn’t know if he could change, even if he wanted to.
I really hoped he would try.
I couldn’t see a thing. I blinked, and it made no difference.
“Mum?”
“Is the door closed behind you?”
“Completely.”
“Are you sure?”
I know how to close a door
. “Yes,” I said sweetly. “All closed.”
There was a rattle and the door to the darkroom opened. Red light spilled out into the little space where I stood.
“Come in, quickly.”
I did as I was told, fitting myself into the very small space beside Mum. As darkrooms go, it wasn’t the most lavish or spacious arrangement. Jack had made it in one of the sheds behind Sandhayes. The windowless outer room had storage space for prints, but nothing else. It was basically just where you waited to be allowed into the darkroom itself, so you didn’t let any daylight in. The darkroom wasn’t much bigger than the outer room. Mum didn’t mind puttering around in the dim, cluttered space, but I always felt as if I was going to knock something over or brush against a drying print or spill some chemicals or cause some sort of disaster. Mum sent most of her pictures away to be printed, but she liked to experiment with different techniques, for fun, and she was always happy in the red glow of the darkroom lamp.
“How is it going?”
“Fine.” She checked the time. “I have about five more minutes before I have to go to work. It’s going to be busy. Saturdays are always hectic and the tourists will be heading home tomorrow, so they’ll shop today.”
“I’m glad you’re going back to the gallery.”
“Me too.”
“Nick must have been very persuasive.”
She looked sideways at me. “What are you getting at?”
“Well, he got you to come out of your room.”
“I meant to talk to you about that. I can’t believe you told him I was hiding.”
“You were. So what did he say?”
“Nothing.” In the red light I couldn’t see if she was blushing or not.
“Nothing,” I repeated.
“Just that he wanted me to come back to work and he thought I was doing a good enough job.”
“I see.”
“Stop, Jess.”
“I didn’t say anything. It’s your guilty conscience that makes you think I’m implying something.”
“Too complicated for me,” Mum said, shaking her head. “There. I’m done.”
“Speaking of guilty consciences…”
“Go on?” She was tidying up and I watched her hands, waiting to see if they stilled.
“About Dan.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “What about him?”
“I keep getting the impression that you’ve been sneaking around with him.”
“Sneaking around.” She looked at me, her expression ironic. “Does that sound like me?”
“No, but—”
“No. Your impression is wrong.”
“Have you see him? Alone?”
“Once or twice. We talk.” She was washing her hands, the water running loudly into the sink. “We have a lot to talk about. I like spending time with him. But not in the way you’re thinking.”
“What way is that?”
“Romantically. That’s all over.” She sounded definite.
“I don’t think it’s over for him.”
A one-shouldered shrug. “You can’t control other people’s feelings. You know that.”
I did. “But you were madly in love.”
“Once upon a time. It was very intense and short-lived. That sort of thing doesn’t last forever.”
And yet I couldn’t imagine ever thinking about Will without the sharp twist of regret that we couldn’t be together.
“Have you told Dan that’s how you feel?”
“What I’ve told him is none of your business.” Mum dried her hands and pointed to the door. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“But if he thinks you might be interested—” I walked backward so I could watch her expression.
“He doesn’t. He knows exactly how I feel, believe me. I know you’re just doing your best to look after me, but you can stop with the moral panic. I haven’t done anything wrong, and neither has Dan. We were friends before we were involved with one another, and we’re friends now. That’s all.”
I felt reassured. I didn’t think Mum would ever lie to me. And if she tried, she could never be that convincing.
Outside the shed, there was a battered garden bench. I sat down on it, and after another look at her watch Mum joined me. It was a beautiful morning, cold and clear, and the dew made every cobweb look like strings of pearls.
“What about Dad?”
“What about him?” Her tone was much less encouraging.
“You know he wants you back.”
“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. “As if.”
“OK,” I said. “Good.”
“Is that everything?” Mum ticked it off on her fingers. “Nick, Dan, your father. Anyone else?”
“You tell me.”
“I hope not,” she said seriously. “That’s enough for anyone.”
“And you thought we were going to have a quiet life down here.”
“I should have known
you
wouldn’t. Can we stop with the near-death experiences, by the way? Two is too many.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised.
“In other news of remarkable resurrections, your coat came back from the cleaner’s while you were in hospital.”
“Seriously? How is it?”
“Good as new.” She corrected herself. “Good as vintage, anyway. It’s hanging up in my room. I forgot to say.”
“Brilliant.” I stretched. “I love your leather jacket but it stinks of smoke.”
“To high heaven,” Mum agreed. “And it’s covered in scratches. I’m never lending you anything again.”
“It saved my skin.”
“Did you ever find out who stole your coat in the first place?”
“I didn’t bother.” I was almost certain it had been Claudia, or Immy, or both of them, showing off so everyone would remember seeing them at the disco. There was no point in asking them about it now. We’d moved on. I’d seen enough that week to think seeking revenge was a bad idea. “I’ve got it back now. No harm done.”
She checked the time again, clicked her tongue and stood up. “I’d better go. I don’t want to be late.”
“Mum, can I ask you something?”
She sat back down because she was that sort of mother. “Of course.”
“Will said he had a picture you took in his locker at school. Which one is it?”
She tilted her head to one side, considering. “Why?”
“I don’t know. I just—I didn’t know he had one. I suppose I want to see it to know what makes him happy.”
Mum nodded. “Because you care about him.”
“He just seems so far away at school. I want to know what he looks at when he thinks of home.”
“Wait there.” She got up and went into the shed, reappearing a minute later with a cardboard folder. “This is the one.”
I opened the folder and caught my breath from sheer surprise. It was a picture from the summer, a close-up of me. I was looking past the camera rather than at it, and I’d never seen myself look quite like that—happy and sad and full of love and longing at the same time. I didn’t get the shiver of self-consciousness that usually came with seeing a photograph of myself. It was less a picture of me than of what I was feeling. Apparently, I had been feeling all the feelings in the world.
“I’ve never seen this before. Why have I never seen this before?”
“You don’t usually like seeing pictures of yourself.”
“How did Will know about it?”
“I got it printed with lots of others I took in the summer. I had the prints all spread out on the kitchen table, and you know how slippery they are. Some of them fell off the edge. Will helped me pick them up.” She smiled, remembering. “He picked this one up and he just stopped. He kept looking at it. In the end I asked him if he’d like to keep it, and he said he’d thought I was never going to ask.”
“I don’t remember you taking my picture at all.”
“You didn’t know I’d taken it.”
“What was I doing?”
“You were in the garden. That’s evening light.” She tilted the picture to look at it, with a technical eye rather than a mother’s. “Not bad.”
“What was I looking at?”
“Do you need to ask?” She smiled. “The reason you didn’t notice me was because you only had eyes for Will.”
I handed it back to her. “Thank you.”
She put it on the bench beside her. “You know, Jess, if you want to be with Will, you should be.”
“You are literally the only person who doesn’t think it’s a terrible idea.”
“And you two are literally the only people who count in all this.” Mum put her arm around my shoulders. “Forget about Will’s parents, and your dad, and anyone else who has a view. If you want to be with each other, be together.”