Dad harrumphed and sat down to help himself to a piece of cake.
Glancing at Jack, I saw him scuffing the toe of his boot against the wooden floor, his ears burning red. I didn’t care about presents. It only mattered that Jack was here.
Once the cake had been eaten, my father announced that he was going into the market to sell some of the vegetables we had grown over the last few months. Giving me and my mother a kiss on the cheek, and glancing in Jack’s direction, my father picked up his satchel and proceeded to the front lawn, where his crates of vegetables waited for him. We heard him grunting and crunching down the garden path.
My mother decided to busy herself that morning by tending to the garden. I knew it took her mind off other matters.
Hawthorne lumbered off to catch himself some breakfast. I wasn’t sure if I was imagining things, but Hawthorne had become increasingly distant over the last few weeks.
Jack and I were alone together for the first time in days. The only other person in the house was my sister Helena, who was currently restricted to bed-rest.
Turning to Jack, I knew I had to apologise for my father’s behavior.
‘I’m sorry about Dad,’ I said as soon as I was sure everyone was out of earshot.
Jack smiled and placed his hands on my shoulders, looking down at me. ‘Well, I couldn’t give you your present with everyone watching, now could I?’
I cocked my head to the side. ‘You have a present for me?’
Jack nodded to the hallway. ‘Let’s go to your room.’
I followed Jack as he led the way to my own bedroom. He pointed to my single bed and told me to sit. Confused, I did as I was told, perching myself on the edge, hands on my knees.
Closing the door quietly, Jack leaned against the frame, a smirk playing on his lips.
‘You know perfectly well that we aren’t allowed in my room with the door closed,’ I said, trying to hide my smile. My father had made the rules of the house very clear indeed. Jack was welcome to stay with us as long as he didn’t lay a finger upon me. I felt that this was exceedingly overprotective. Jack and I had been alone together on numerous occasions.
‘Well, no one is here now, are they?’ he said, crossing the room and towering over me. ‘And it is your nineteenth birthday.’
Leaning down, Jack cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply as his scent washed over me. Jack always smelled nice. His aftershave was natural; a little bit spicy, yet sweet, like cinnamon.
It had been weeks since our lips had met, and I knew he missed it. We hadn’t spoken of ‘us’ since we’d returned to Mortlock two months ago. So many unsaid things had passed between us in that time. Electricity flew through the air every time our skin brushed.
He pulled away and started rummaging in the pockets of his trousers, pulling out a clumsily wrapped parcel no bigger than a few inches long.
‘You really did get me something?’ I asked, shocked.
‘You seem surprised.’ He handed me the small package.
‘You didn’t have to-’ I began.
‘I didn’t spend a cent,’ he promised, sitting down next to me.
Warily, I unwrapped the parcel to reveal a small, felt pouch. Giving Jack a suspicious glance, I pulled the drawstring of the pouch and shook the contents into my palm.
I couldn’t help but gasp. ‘Jack!’
‘Don’t you like it?’ he asked at once.
It was a necklace. Hanging from a fine gold chain was a heart-shaped locket featuring a blood red ruby in it’s centre.
‘Did you steal this?’ I asked, dreading the answer.
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Jack. ‘Here.’
He took the necklace from me and indicated that I should turn around. I did so, holding up my long hair so Jack could fasten it around my neck. I looked down at the locket, which lay against my chest perfectly, glinting up at me.
‘You said you didn’t spend a cent-’ I began, turning to face Jack.
‘I didn’t spend anything,’ he interrupted. ‘I inherited it when I was young.’
‘You don’t mean …’ I trailed off, fingering the locket.
‘It belonged to my mother,’ Jack confirmed. ‘Now, I know what you’re going to say, but before you do, I need to tell you that it’s okay. I want you to have it.’
How could I accept this gift?
‘It usually stays hidden at the bottom of my rucksack,’ he said, glad that I had not interjected. ‘It hasn’t been worn for twenty-one years, and I don’t want it to go to waste.’
‘Jack, I don’t know if I can-’
He held up a hand to silence me, before taking the locket between his thumb and forefinger and holding it in a beam of sunlight that cascaded through the open window. The rays reflected on the encrusted ruby, lighting it up like a tiny flame.
‘It reminds me of you,’ he said.
I chewed my bottom lip. ‘Are you sure you want to part with it? I mean, it belonged to your mother.’