"Ten minutes ago."
"What? You mean we missed it?"
"Yep."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you needed feeding first."
"But what do we do now?"
"We'll get the next one."
"When's that?"
"Half an hour. Just enough time to settle the bill and take a walk, if you're up for it."
The guesthouse looked completely different in the daylight. The car park was surrounded by trees that looked appealing rather than threatening. A thin path headed into the woodland and it was along this track that he led me.
"I found this when I went out earlier," he said, stepping into a clearing.
In the middle was a pond and the morning mist floating above it made it look magical, as if fairies might come out and skit across the surface at any moment. "So you had time to get my clothes cleaned, order breakfast, and go on a hike? What time did you get up?"
"Early," he replied. "I had a lot to think about."
"Like what?"
"Come on, the bus'll be here soon."
We walked back to the car park just as a bus turned in off the road. There was a queue of people waiting to get on and we stood behind them, waiting our turn. I stepped onto the bus and turned in time to see him just standing there on the tarmac. "Aren't you getting on?" I asked as the driver coughed behind me.
"Nope."
"What? Why not?"
You're going to go see Ben and I'm going home."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Come on," the driver snapped. "I haven't got all day."
"All right," I replied. "Just give me a sec. Get on the bus, Jake."
He shook his head. "You don't need me."
"But what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to tell your father that I couldn't find you."
He turned and walked away as the bus doors closed. "Wait," I snapped at the driver. "Let me off."
"Oh, for crying out loud," he said, pressing a button next to him.
The doors hissed open again and I jumped down, running after Jake. I grabbed hold of him and he spun round. "What are you doing?" he asked. "Why aren't you on the bus?"
"Because I'm not going to let you get killed over me."
"I'll be fine."
"Then you can come with me."
"Listen, Izzy, I don't know what you think you know about me but you're wrong. You shouldn't be around me. You'll get hurt. Just go and be with Ben."
"I'm not going to leave you get killed over me."
"Whatever you think I am, I'm not. I'm not a good person, Izzy. You should just go."
"You are a good person."
"You don't know a thing about me."
"Don't I? I know you cleaned my clothes for me. You made me breakfast. You let me sleep with the light on. Would a bad person do that?"
He looked uncomfortable, his arms folding as he refused to look me in the eye. "You should go," he said but his voice had lost its vehemence.
"Not without my Daddy."
"Please, don't call me that."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"Because why?"
"Because you just shouldn't," he snapped, his face angry all of a sudden.
"What the hell's the matter?" I asked. "What's so wrong about calling you Daddy?"
He sighed, rubbing his eyes before fixing me in stare so intense, I felt myself wilting before it. "I can't do this," he said. "This isn't me."
"What isn't you?"
"Being a Daddy, looking after you. You should go before I have to take you home."
"So take me home."
"What?"
"If it matters to you so much, take me home, watch me marry Kingsley."
"Is that what you want?"
"Is it what you want?"
He was silent for a second before answering. "No," he said at last. "No it isn't."
NINETEEN
JAKE
We got on the next bus together. It took an hour of waiting for it to arrive and when it did I had to make a decision. I could either force her onto it and walk away or take her home and be done with all this.
In the end I did neither and we sat together, both of us silent in contrast to the time we'd spent waiting for it to arrive. I'd tried to walk away from her but she hadn't let me go.
It didn't make any sense to me. If all she cared about was getting to her childhood sweetheart, why didn't she just leave? I asked her as much as we sat in the car park, waiting for the next bus.
"Why don't you just take me back like you're supposed to?" she said, answering my question with one of her own.
"You are infuriating," I said.
She grinned in response. "Don't avoid the question. You don't think I should marry Kingsley, do you?"
"It's not my place to decide that."
"But you don't, do you? I can tell just by looking at you."
"I've told you, you don't know anything about me. If you did, you'd be on that bus right now, not looking back."
"I know you're not taking me home, that's enough for me."
"So why'd you stay here instead of going on without me?"
"Because if you're as scared of Tony Matteo as my father is, then you're going to need my help to stay safe."
I almost laughed. "I'm going to need your help?"
"When this all blows over, I'll have a word with Tony, make sure he leaves you alone."
"I don't think you know what type of man he is."
"I know exactly what type of man he is. He's a crook and so's his son."
"And so am I."
"You're not a crook."
"You'd be surprised."
"If you were a crook, you'd be in a more expensive suit."
"What's wrong with this?"
"Nothing at all. I'm sure it fits in perfectly at the Men in Black conventions."
"The what?"
"It's a film, never mind." She was silent for a moment before sighing. "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know," I replied. "What do you want to do?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure. I want to go see Ben but I don't at the same time. I want my father to be a decent human being but I doubt that's going to happen anytime soon. I want to go home and lead a normal life, not have to run away like this. Will I always be running now? Is this it for me?"
"Things will blow over," I lied. "I'm sure it'll work out one way or another."
"I wish I had your optimism."
"What choice have you got?"
"Run or marry? Great options. What if Ben hasn't got any feelings for me? What if he throws me off his doorstep?"
"I doubt he will."
"What makes you so sure?"
"I saw what he wrote in those letters."
"Oh my goodness, Mr Icy Cold has a heart after all." She smiled and my heart melted at the sight. She really was adorable. "Have you ever been in love?" she asked.
"Once," I replied, lapsing into silence.
"Do tell."
"I'm not sure you want to hear it."
"I do, I really do."
I sighed. Could I tell her? I'd never told anyone since it happened. "Fuck it," I said out loud. "Why not? I loved my daughter."
"You have a daughter? How old is she?"
"She was six when she died."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."
"It's fine." She was in my mind already, her face just as it had looked that day, cold, lifeless. "I came home to find my wife telling me there'd been an accident. Abigail was at the bottom of the stairs, not moving."
It all came back to me as if it had happened seconds before. My Abbey, stone cold. She'd clearly been there for hours. "What happened? Where's the ambulance?"
"I didn't know what to do. She's dead, Jake." Sarah not even sounding upset.
"What? No, she can't be."
It all became snapshots after that. Me calling the ambulance. The trip to the hospital. The doctor pronouncing her dead. Me heartbroken and raging as if it was his fault when he was only confirming what was obvious. The police arriving. The questions they asked me, so many questions. Me in handcuffs, taken to the station.
The interviews that seemed to go on for days, finding out Sarah had told them I'd done it, being unable to prove I'd found her there. Them asking me again and again, why did you do it? Like they'd already made their minds up.
Being locked up and not even being allowed out for the funeral. That was what broke me. I could have handled everything, all the lies she told, the fact that she was completely insane and I hadn't noticed a thing, the trial, the conviction, the sentence. I could have handled it all if I'd only been allowed to say goodbye.
It was years before I was allowed out. They'd got the truth out of her at last but it was too late for me. Everyone we knew still believed her, thought I'd coerced her into confessing somehow, into lying to get me out. I couldn't stay around there any longer so I vanished, moved somewhere no one knew me and ended up on the streets with a bottle for a companion. A lot of bottles.