Page 40 of The Fall I Fell

‘Even if I am just some country bumpkin that has no idea about the world, who can’t keep up with your friends?’

‘I’m sorry, Jacob. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I didn’t mean it.’ I reached out my hand to take hold of his, and the relief when he didn’t pull away settled my anxiety for just a second.

‘I’m not sure what’s worse. You meaning it, or not but still saying it anyway.’

I stayed silent, unable to defend myself, ashamed of myself.

‘I’m sorry too. I was rude. I guess I was just so sure that I knew you better than anyone else in the world, and I was annoyed that I got it wrong.’

‘I promise you, you do know me best.’ I squeezed his hand tighter. ‘I just don’t think even I know who I am these days.’

‘You and me both.’ Jacob looked to me with a sad smile. I could tell from his expression that his thoughts were in as much turmoil as mine.

Perhaps he’s thinking the same now – that we don’t slot together as perfectly as we first thought. Maybe our real lives are just too different, that no summer romance, no treehouse fantasy, is enough to make us anything more than friends.

Chapter 21

Now

I stare at the ceiling of my room. The moonlight sheds just enough light on the Artex for me to follow its swooping patterns, in hopes that with enough time it might lull me into a sleep. I have no idea how long I’ve been lying like this, tracing the crumbling paint with only my eyes, trying not to think about everything, trying not to think about how we used to be before. But in telling myself that, my mind forces all of those thoughts to flood through me. How is it that I can be so exhausted, and yet my body just can’t allow itself to switch off?

It’s been a week since Halloween. A week of sleepless nights, ignoring everyone and all the notifications on my phone, and days crammed with work, just to fill my brain enough to not let me think any more about what happened. I am quite literally haunted by Halloween now. How ironic.

The first tap at the window, I pass off as the noises of an old house, adjusting to the cold of the end of autumn. The second tap, the same. The third, however, makes me stop for a second, listening for a fourth. Right on cue, it comes, and I watch the empty shell of a conker hit the pane of glass softly. Shuffling out of bed, I wrap my dressing gown around me and look down at the garden below.

Jacob stands at the bottom, collecting the softest shells he can find at the foot of the horse chestnut, having not yet seen me. When he turns back and tosses the next one, I catch it in my hand, and fling it straight back at him, watching it as it bounces off his head.

‘What did I tell you about my Granny’s windows?’ I whisper as he rubs the sore spot in his hairline.

‘Sorry,’ he replies, a guilty look crossing his face. ‘It just couldn’t wait.’ His mouth shifts into a grin as he practically vibrates with excitement at the foot of the house.

‘What couldn’t wait?’ I furrow my brows, intrigued, yet still trying to maintain my distance, reminding myself of all of our past meetings of late, my heart still sore from Halloween.

‘Come down and I’ll show you.’ He beckons me, his smile entirely unreserved, his energy so infectious I have to stop myself leaping from the window just to join him faster. But I can’t just act like I would have before. Has he just completely forgotten about our argument? Or is he happy with how we left it – agreeing that we are friends, nothing more?

‘Or you could just tell me?’ I whisper again, but the click of the bathroom light interrupts me and I force a hand over my mouth in hopes that I can dampen some of the noise. I stare at Jacob with wide eyes, putting a finger to my lips. He gets the message rather quickly and ducks behind the trunk of the tree, into the shaded edge of the night.

After a minute, once I’ve heard the footsteps retreat back along the hallway, I finally have the courage to speak again. ‘Fine, just wait there and don’t make a sound.’

Creeping around this old house is almost impossible. It’s as though Granny and Grandad booby-trapped every floorboard and door to creak as loudly as possible to make sneaking out completely hopeless. As they both got older, it had become easier – either their hearing worsened, or they just couldn’t be bothered to jump out of their beds in the middle of the night. But now that Mum is in residence, and she has insane bat-like hearing, I’m going to have to be smart about my escape.

The tree is a no go. My feet, and blood pressure, still haven’t forgiven me from the last time. So, carrying my shoes with me, I shuffle along the landing on the very edge of each floorboard, making it to the stairs with hardly a murmur. Sitting down on the first step, I push myself over each one on my bum, hoping the extra surface area might balance my weight a little better, and I almost make it until the very last step—

The loud creak calls out to my mother like a snitching younger sibling, wanting me to get as far as possible to get into as much trouble as possible. Freezing, I hold my breath, hoping not a single exhale will be enough to push it and send mum’s door flying open. When the yell doesn’t come, or the aggressive footsteps, I race across the kitchen and out of the door before I dare take another breath.

Slipping on my shoes, I find Jacob exactly where I left him. He drags me by the hand out of the garden before either of us can make a sound. Once we are at a safe enough distance from the farm, I find my voice again. ‘So what is all of this about?’

‘Hope.’ He grins, and takes me again by the hand, this time not stopping until we reach the barn on Hope Farm. Sliding open the doors, a small lamp is lit in the corner, casting a warm glow over a pile of hay. And there, in the middle of it all, Hope lies curled up, purring against two kittens that cry and mew through the first moments of their lives.

Turning back to Jacob, he watches me take it all in, my eyes growing hazy with each glance I make at the kittens.

‘I thought she’d just been getting fat,’ he explains. ‘You know her age, coupled with the fact that you’re here all of the time feeding her when you think no one has seen.’ He laughs and I flush. ‘But then she was making a proper racket earlier, and she’s never been a cat to make a fuss, and so I followed her here, she got herself comfy, and then these two arrived not long after.’ Jacob stands beside me now, as we watch the new family from a distance. Hope is unperturbed by visitors, and almost happy to show off her latest creations. ‘I wanted to come and get you straight away, but I didn’t want to leave her.’

‘How long have you been out here?’ I look at him in awe.

‘What time is it?’ he asks, bleary eyed.

‘Just gone one.’