‘Of course!’ he said, sticking out his chest.
‘Then you have parental responsibility. Hazel’s social worker will want to make sure she’s safe, and being cared for, but that should be obvious.’
‘I’m living with a parenting teacher. They can’t ask for more than that.’ He let out a nervous laugh.
‘Have you thought about childcare for Hazel when you’re at college?’ I asked.
‘They’ve got a nursery. I could see if they have space. We break up in two weeks, anyway.’
‘Perfect.’ I nearly added something about how I could look after her for the next two Fridays. A week ago I’d have offered without even thinking about it. But a week ago I’d not been making plans with my new housemate while prepping a salad to take to a busy family gathering, wondering whether the playsuit I’d found in a forgotten heap at the back of the wardrobe would work for my dinner with Jonah –Jonah! –in a few days’ time. So, I kept quiet for now. If there was no space at the nursery, then maybe I’d think about offering. The key being the thinking part. I was done with knee-jerk reactions. Time for some proactive positive choices. Small yet significant.
The barbecue was okay. More than okay. Maybe even nice. I spent most of it too tense to eat, nervous that no one would speak to me, equally anxious that they would and I’d have to think of a reply that didn’t make me sound as much of a lost, lonely loser as I felt.
It made my throat clench to see Finn and Isla running about with Theo’s younger brother, chattering to his mum and playing peekaboo with his sister’s toddler. Isla cried, once, when a fly landed on her sausage, but, before I could swoop in, the people nearest to her gently laughed it off in a way that defused the situation perfectly.
Nicky was gobsmacked when I told her that Toby and Hazel were staying at the cottage.
‘How long for?’ she demanded to know, along with a heap of other questions like where would they sleep, would I charge them any keep, did I trust Toby and what if he also did a runner and left me with Hazel?
I smiled, shrugged, said not to worry, I was a grown woman and we’d figure it out.
‘Who are you and what have you done with my baby sister?’ She laughed, eyes round with amazement.
The only stumble in the afternoon was when I noticed the postcard, tucked under a pile of letters on the hall table. I wouldn’t have thought much of it, except that I’d had that same postcard a couple of weeks ago. I resisted the urge to flip it over, instead going to find Nicky, Hazel on her lap.
‘You got a postcard?’
She stopped, her grimace confirming who it was from before she answered. ‘She’s having a fabulous time in wherever she is now, but even the longest roads must come to an end. Home and hearth calls, or some BS like that.’
‘Do you think she’s serious?’ Despite the June sunshine, my bare arms had broken out in goosebumps. ‘And what does she mean by home? Is she expecting Dad to welcome her back?’
Nicky shrugged. ‘It’s a horrible stunt to pull if she doesn’t turn up. But then, since when did our feelings come into it?’
She screwed up her eyes, cuddling Hazel closer. ‘Part of me really wants her not to come, to just be making throwaway comments that never become a reality. But if she is, then what? We never see her again? Never get to explain how awful it was for Dad to have no proper closure? How hard it can be waiting for her to contact us, or how we created a stupid Facebook account just so she’d know we were still alive?’
‘And then we get a call one day to say she’s sunk in the middle of the ocean?’ I shook my head. ‘I hate myself for feeling so angry about how she controlled all contact, even if I can sort of understand why. The only way to deal with her not being around is to get on without her. But she owes us the chance to forgive her. Or at least to ask why she needed to leave us as well as Dad.’
‘You’ve always been so much kinder than me, Libby. I want the chance to shout in her face. To show her what she’s missing and then decide whether she gets to not miss it any more.’
I wrapped my arm around her, grateful to be able to share this pain with someone else who understood. ‘Either way, then, we’re sort of hoping she shows up at some point.’
‘Ugh. It would seem so.’ She buried her nose in Hazel’s fluff of hair. ‘Would be nice if she had the courtesy to let us know when.’
‘Another couple of postcards, first?’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘My guess is three.’
My sister always was the smart one.
19
THEN
‘Is Bronah sending you messages?’
It was nearly a week after my study session with Jonah. There’d been more secretive smiles, the odd stilted sentences at dinner – or rather, I was stilted; Jonah just sounded uninterested. I’d skulked downstairs and into the garden late one evening, but it had been empty. I’d barely seen him at school. I’d not even told Alicia and Katie that he was living with us, because we were meant to keep these things confidential, and I didn’t want to discuss Jonah King with people who had pronounced him to be either creepy-hot or just plain creepy. Only my journal knew the truth about how I felt about him.
I’d tried to convince myself that it was better – vital – that we maintained a safe distance, giving my crush the time to fizzle out before I did something awful. But then I’d remember leaning back against him as we stood by the kitchen sink, the flash of something deeper in his eyes when we’d laughed together. It was terrible and thrilling all twisted up together. Indulging in forbidden fantasies about Jonah might have seemed harmless when I was certain that was all they’d ever be. It had become dangerous the second his hand rested on my hip.
