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“Yeah. Single too.”
I can’t mistake the interest that she shows in them.
Is she staking her claim on Jac?
It wouldn’t surprise me. The girls at school were all after him, and I’d always be the one mocking him for being so clueless.
Now, it’s me who’s the clueless one, with friends and lovers who’d happily stab me in the back.
If my judgement’s that off, it’s possible then that I’ve totally misjudged ‘Jac the Lad’ too?
Claire’s a pretty girl, and Jac’s single. Probably still applying that rule of his. Ending relationships before they get too clingy and messy.
I cringe as Jac sees me. I’ve been about as clingy and messy as it gets.
He comes casually up to our table.
“Wanna join us tonight?”
“No. It’s alright. I’d better get back and see Mam.”
I'm not going to stay to watch him flirting with Claire.
“Earlier on,” I say quietly. "You caught me at a bad time."
“No worries.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“I’m not doing so well on the friends’ front at the moment.” I feel a lump in my throat. “Thanks for being there.”
“Any time,” he rasps.
“What was it you wanted to ask me? Before Seb turned up this afternoon?”
“Nothing,” he says gruffly. “It’ll keep.”
???
When Sion suggested he treat Jac to a meal at The Cross Keys that evening, he thought he’d snap his hand off.
But after Annie left, Jac didn’t seem that keen. Instead, he offered to cook, but Sion insisted they go out. He needed to check his phone; and see Claire.
He’d missed her.
Being away made him realise how much he looked forward to their evening chats. She was chippy with him, but she wasn’t as tough as she pretended to be.
His eyes locked onto hers when they walked into the bar; and seeing him, she got up from the table where she was sitting with Annie, to go and serve them.
Predictably, Jac slunk over to Annie, while Sion stayed at the bar.
He ignored the new piggy-eyed barman who asked him what he wanted to drink. And Claire quickly took charge, serving them their pints.
“Who’s he?” Sion asked her discreetly, leaning over the bar.
“That’s knobhead.”
Sion let out a loud laugh.
The little man shot them a suspicious glare. She had pretty much summed up Sion’s first impression of him too.
“The brewery shipped him in.”
The new manager was now talking to a couple of young men, strangers, who’d just walked in. Taking his cigarette packet off the back bar, he followed them outside.
There was something decidedly dodgy about him, Sion decided. Not a good fit for a rural pub, like this one.
Jac was sitting at the table in deep conversation with Annie, the good-looking blonde who’d been sitting on the sofa when he arrived.
He felt bad about that. He’d clearly interrupted something.
He couldn’t remember ever seeing his old army buddy so doe-eyed. Even though she didn’t realise it, she’d got Jac by the balls, alright.
And he was a goner.
Sion helped himself to a couple of menus and waited for Claire to finish serving a round of drinks to another customer.
Her long raven hair shone under the lights on the bar, and her face was set in concentration as she pulled the pump and got the head of froth just right.
She moved back over to him.
“So, how was the job?”
“Boring. Patched up the network after a virus and got it all working again. Did you miss me?”
“A bit.”
Her mouth curved into a grin.
“Like I missed the verruca I had burned off my foot last week.”
“Aw, come on, Claire. You love our nightly chats.”
“I do. Every time we speak, I make a point of writing it down. Word for word.”
“You do?”
“Uh-huh,” she smiled sweetly. “So as I can use it in the ‘harassment at work’ case I’m filing against you.”
“Oh okay, I’ll leave you alone, then, if that’s what you want?”
Her flirty smile told him that was the last thing she wanted him to do.
“You’re kiddin’ right?”
“P’raps. I haven’t made my mind up about you yet.”
The new landlord called her over to take food out, and Sion took the drinks and menus over to the far table, where Jac now sat alone.
“Scared Annie off, did you?”
“No. I warned her about you, and she took fright.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Truth is, I didn’t want you filling Annie’s head with sordid tall tales about our army days,” Jac half-joked.
“About your army days, you mean. And there’s a fair few tales I could tell about you.”
Sion handed him a menu.
“That weekend in Amsterdam?”
Jac winced.
“Fair enough… Don’t you miss it?”
“Miss what?... Amsterdam? I know you did. What was that Swedish girl’s name again?”
“No, ya prick. Not Amsterdam. Don’t you miss operations? You were always the brains. The action man. I’m not being funny, mate, but this computer stuff you’re doing these days, it ain’t you.”
“What is me? I’d never have fitted you up for a sheep farmer, either… I’m gonna have the steak pie special. How about you?”
Jac’s attention turned to the menu, and Sion was relieved. The less Jac knew about what he did, the better.
His weapons were stored safely under his outdoor gear in the cottage’s little shed. Even though he considered Jac his best and truest friend, it was for his own good that he kept him in the dark. He needed this bolt hole. Now, more than ever.
“I’m gonna do some climbing in Snowdonia next week.”
“Cool.”
“Sorry, about earlier on. I didn’t mean to come across you and Annie.”
“You didn’t. She was upset, that’s all. About her job.”
“Does that mean she’s staying?”
“No idea, mate. But the longer she's here, the more she’s messin’ with my head.”
CHAPTER 11
-----------?----------
Callista’s arriving on the train later; and killing two birds with one stone, Mam and I have come into town to get something to wear for Dad’s funeral. Most of my clothes are back in London, and Mam wants something smart.
She looks exhausted already, as she shuffles slowly around the shopping centre, browsing for something suitably sombre and warm.
“Let’s have a breather.”
We’ve paused outside a large coffee chain.
“Why don’t you have a sit down, while I find us something to wear? How about a turtle-neck jumper and a straight skirt from M
arks?”
Mam smiles at me gratefully.
“Just the job.”
Something’s wrong. She’s only sixty-five, but the weight loss, lack of appetite and energy, together with that constant cough she has, it’s not normal. It’s been gnawing at me for days.
Setting our two lattes on the table, I pluck up the courage to ask her.
She’s a nurse, surely she must have picked up the symptoms. Seen a doctor?
“Mam, what’s up?”
She stares blankly back at me. The look she’s been giving me her whole life.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
My voice catches.
“Stop pretending. We’ve done enough of that. Tell me the truth… Please… Are you ill?”
Mam sniffs and scours her bag.
I reach over to the next table for a crunchy paper serviette, and then hold her hand as she takes it from me. It’s icy cold.
“I didn’t want to worry you, love.”
She clears her throat and tells me.
And it’s bad.
She went to the doctors with her cough before Christmas, and the tests they did confirmed the worst. Primary bladder cancer metastasised with secondaries. They’ve offered her palliative chemo, but she’s refused it.
The irony is, that she's never had so much as a urine infection. She felt perfectly healthy until the weight loss started in the autumn, and then that persistent tickly cough.
I’m reeling. I have to stay strong, but it’s hard.
Callista will be here later. She’ll help me get through to her. We need to make her see sense.
“We’ll go back to the doctors. There must be treatments available? I’ll do some research online. See what’s out there.”
“You’re a good girl. I really will be fine,” she smiles, taking my hand. Not upset at all.
“And when you go back, Jac’ll be here.”
“No way am I going back to London, until you’re sorted.”
“But, Annie! What about your job? You’re a senior manager. You need to get back.”
“Don’t fret about that, they’ll give me a leave of absence, I’m sure.”
I can’t bring myself to tell her the truth.
???
“Cal!”
Jac greets his mother on the yard.
“Jac, my darling. Come here.”
“Cal, I’m not fit.”
