Heart

“Text me if you need anything. Anything. I won’t be far. Okay?”


“Okay,” she hiccups through fresh tears. Prolonging this isn’t going to make it any easier and I really don’t want to see Dickhead. I don’t trust myself.

After one last hug, I get in the van and pull away.

Back at the park, I lock the van and take a walk, hoping the fresh air will give me inspiration. I’ve got enough cash for a cheap B&B tonight but that’s not an option in the long run. All I want is to go to Neve.

To hug her and have her tell me it’s all going to be okay.

To be loved.





After eating breakfast with the other residents of the B&B, each of whom appears to have his own mental health issues, I face the facts. I can’t live like this. I can’t afford to live like this, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. And, having looked through the local papers last night, I also know I can’t afford to rent anything more than a bedsit. My hope of finding somewhere for me, Grace and Josh rests on two things: time and money. So I need to find some of both.

Faced with this reality, I make a decision I’m not happy with but know is probably the only option I have: to go back home and apologise. As much as my fists burn at the mere idea of apologising to Dickhead, there is no other choice. Not if I’m going to still be able to look after Grace and Josh. I send Mum a text asking to meet her later and go to work.

I’m glad today’s job means I’m working with Bill for the day. Too much time by myself will mean too much thinking time, and I’ve had enough of that in the last twenty-four hours. We’re landscaping the garden for a new house and working alongside Bill, creating something from scratch, reminds me of working with Dad when I was a kid. Even the groans of Bill’s aching body have a welcome familiarity to them.

“You all right, kid?” Bill asks when we sit down for lunch: his a box prepared by his wife, mine a sandwich and packet of crisps from the garage down the road.

“Yeah, ta.”

“Bullshit.” My head turns at the word; I’ve never heard Bill swear. “Come on, you can tell me. Girl trouble? Mum trouble?” Bill knows the basics about my home life. He knew Dad and had given me a part-time job as soon as I was old enough for it to be legal. That job had turned into this apprenticeship and I was thankful for it.

“I’m fine.” Yeah, sure I am.

“I’ve known you long enough, Jake, to know when you’re not telling the truth. I’ve also known you long enough to care when it looks like you don’t know what to do next. What’s up? I’m old enough, if not wise enough, that I might be able to see an answer you can’t.” What have I got to lose?

I tell Bill everything that has gone on. I start with the recent events and then go back in time, starting with Dad. When he prompts me, I also reveal how I dumped Neve. As I listen to the tale I’m telling, I can’t believe how I thought that ending things with Neve would make the rest of the sorry situation any better.

Bill leans back and crosses his ankles. I wait for advice. Words of wisdom. Words of comfort. Anything.

Nothing.

“So, what do you think I should do?” I eventually ask, desperate for a response to my outpouring.

“I think you should come round for tea tonight. Sophie’s making cottage pie. You don’t want to miss out on that. Come on, let’s get back to it.” Heaving himself up, Bill closes his lunchbox and moves back over to the area we were working on before lunch.

Still waiting on a reply from Mum at the end of work, I haven’t got anything better to do than go to Bill’s. I pop into the toilets at the supermarket and give myself a quick tidy-up. I pick up a box of chocolates for Sophie to say thank you for tea, knowing Bill would kill me if I took her a bunch of flowers.

Bill was right: Sophie’s cottage pie is amazing. The second and third helpings reflect how long it is since I’ve had a home-cooked meal like it. I manage to squeeze in a couple of slices of apple pie and ice cream before sitting on the sofa, my offer to wash up having been loudly turned down by Sophie. Bill sits on the chair next to me and switches off the TV.

“You ready for that chat now?” I only need to nod before he continues. “Me and Sophie have had a good talk about it tonight, before you came round, and we’d like to offer you a room here, Jake. For as long as you need it.” I thought I was going to get advice, not this level of help.

“Really? You mean it?”

Nicola Hudson's books