‘Then I need to say goodbye!’
He shook his head, sadly. ‘That’s not going to happen.’
I tried phoning, three times. Sent more texts. There was no reply, but I reasoned he wouldn’t be looking at his phone.
When there was the unmistakable sound of people lugging suitcases down the stairs – despite Jonah yelling that he didn’t want any of it, they could burn the lot – I half ran, half stumbled down two flights of stairs to catch up with him.
‘Libby, get back inside,’ Mum ordered from where she stood rigid in the hallway as Dad heaved a bag into the boot of Clare’s car. I ignored her, hurrying onto the drive in my bare feet just as Jonah was about to get into the passenger seat.
‘Jonah!’
He quickly lifted his head to find me, eyes wild, hair a matted mess and an angry red mark across one cheek. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I know. I’m sorry too.’
‘I love you!’
Before I could say anything else, Dad had grabbed hold of my arm and steered me back in the house. By the time I slipped free, the car had gone.
‘Where’s he going?’ I asked, fraught with desperation, following Robin and my parents into the living room.
‘They found a residential unit,’ Robin said. ‘Quite lucky at such short notice.’
‘Where?’
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Fine, I’ll ask him myself.’ I started to flounce off, as if I were the one wronged, rather than the person who’d chucked a petrol bomb into the middle of our family.
‘How about you get ready for your exam, and we can stop off for a KFC on the way there?’ Robin said, although it clearly wasn’t a suggestion.
I looked at my parents, two shell-shocked statues clasping hands on the sofa.
Now probably wasn’t the time to say that I hated KFC. I changed into my uniform, collected my bag and went to stare atan exam paper, tears dripping onto my paltry effort at solving a quadratic equation and plotting points on a graph.
40
NOW
Nicky called me just after ten.
‘She’s gone to bed. Still on French time.’
‘How was it?’
She sighed. ‘I hid in the kitchen sorting dinner while Theo made polite conversation. We had about an hour around the dinner table, her asking tentative questions about my job, Theo’s family. You and the kids. Me replying as neutrally as possible. I’m trying to pretend she doesn’t have the power to upset me, but at the same time I still want her buried in guilt.’
‘What are her plans for tomorrow?’
‘I’m pretty sure she’s hoping to see her grandchildren. No mention of Dad.’
‘Ugh. Isla could really do without more randomers dropping into her life. Toby, Silva and Baby Brayden are enough for one summer.’
There was a brief pause. ‘Maybe it wouldn’t be terrible for the kids to meet her properly. Mum is great with children.’
‘Yeah. Especially seeing as Dad might not be around so much.’
‘What?’
