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“They need stability. They don’t need a father who spends his life with his pants round his ankles.”
“They’re not going to know unless you tell them.” His gaze challenged her. “They’re having the perfect childhood. Are you going to take that away from them?”
She thought about what it had been like growing up without her father.
At best they’d resent her. Maybe they’d even hate her.
Nancy couldn’t bear the thought.
As she was contemplating the horror of that scenario, Tom delivered the final blow.
“If you send me away, they’ll blame you.” And she knew that what he was really saying was I’ll make sure they blame you.
It gradually dawned on her that to keep any sort of relationship with her daughters and protect them from being hurt, she was going to have to keep her husband.
It felt as if she was making a deal with the devil.
17
Mack
Pressure: trying to persuade or force someone
to do something
Mack slammed her locker shut and wished for the millionth time that they’d never left London. The other kids streamed past her in the opposite direction, leaving her feeling like a lone salmon swimming downstream.
If she could have picked a superpower, it would have been invisibility.
It was her third week at her new school and so far it had been a disaster. In London she’d managed to blend, chameleon-like, into her surroundings but here she didn’t know the people or the rules well enough to do that. She was terrified of doing something wrong and making herself a target.
They were studying totally different stuff, and the other kids were already in friendship groups. She knew from experience that breaking into those groups and being accepted would be a nightmare. The girl who had been assigned to show her round and support her had vanished back to her friends as soon as her job was done.
The worst thing was lunch in the cafeteria. It was a huge open space where the strong flourished and the weak and vulnerable were exposed. Mack felt like a lone gazelle grazing on the savannah in full view of a pride of lions.
Her mother had encouraged her to join after-school clubs to meet people, but so far she hadn’t spoken more than a few words to anyone and all she wanted to do at the end of the day was go home and escape to her bedroom. The thought of extending the torture wasn’t appealing
.
Across from her a lanky dark-haired boy was pinning up a poster advertising the Coding Club.
Tuesdays and Thursdays from 2:30 to 4:00 p.m.
She felt a thrill of excitement. In London, the focus had all been on traditional subjects and cramming for exams. There was no coding club.
Mack checked no one was looking and glanced again at the poster.
Could she go?
No. Excitement gave way to gloom. She knew from experience that to express interest in computer coding would be social suicide, especially when she was so new.
First impressions counted.
She turned back to her locker, ignoring the yearning inside her. Whatever label she managed to earn in these early days would stick. She didn’t want it to be nerd or geek. Bad things happened to nerds and geeks.
She dragged her heels to English. She loved reading, but the essays they were set were so boring.
If she’d been a teacher she would have made it more fun.
