Someone was going to die.
As the fist tightens on my chest, I snatch up Jack’s phone. Why did I push away my concerns? My instincts warned me. I didn’t listen. I desperately wish I had. I grasp at the mobile and flick through the deathly texts, already aware of the content, but I need to see with my own eyes. I keep scrolling until I locate your stored number, saved under the name of HATE. I brace myself as I prepare to re-enter this last week of Jack’s world. If I had the energy, I’d be sick. The screen illuminates, as I read.
Leave us alone. I hate U.
Is that you, Jack?
Kill yourself!
Jack, it’s Jack isn’t it? I knew you’d make contact. You’re different from her. After all, I’m your father. I’ve lost everything. I need your help. Your mother has lied to you about me. I want to see you.
Jack?
I need to see you. Please.???
Why? I hate U.
I need your help. Your mother has stolen something of mine. If you only do this one thing for me, I will leave again. Promise, I will leave you be.
What is it?
She has my flash-drive. It has all my contacts and files on. I need to rebuild, start afresh. Please Jack. Then, I’ll leave. Promise.
??? Please Jack, I am your father.
Answer me Jack. I will not leave you alone, until I have it.
You owe me. Jack?
I will not leave without it!
Answer me, Jack. Come to me, or I’ll come to you both???
I’ll meet U.
I knew I could count on you! When? Where? Do you know where the flash-drive is?
Yeah. Trevellas Porth. No one will see us.
Good boy. Just let me know when. Then, I will leave you alone, I promise.
Yeah. U will.
I delete the evidence and shut down the mobile, every muscle in my tired body tingling with regret. In trying to protect Jack from you, I left him exposed. What was I thinking? Why didn’t I tell the truth in the beginning? Whatever truth is: yours, mine, his, hers, theirs? All pointless. Subjective poppycock. Holding so much power.
I stare emptily out of Jack’s closed window as I allow myself to fall back to the night I assumed we would gain closure. One last time before I set it away in a box at the back of my mind. I place myself back to a week ago, in my mind’s eye. I had it all planned, was so sure of how I would rid us of you. It all fell apart with the missing rucksack. Why were you not at home, Jack?
I ran back down the stairs, frantically trying to locate my mobile. Jack was missing. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I saw the handwritten note on the table.
Mum
Have gone rock jumping, Trevellas P. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful, promise! Yep, I have wetsuit, dry towel, drink, food. No signal there, see you when get home.
Jack x
Trevellas Porth? He hadn’t mentioned it that morning? Please, God. Putting aside the dangerous conditions of night-time rock jumping. I’d already sent the text to you. Jack, what had you done? What had I done? A revolting thought hurtled through my mind as shivers crept one by one over my soul. I’d sent the text for you to meet me at Trevellas Porth. I’d flung Jack straight into your open arms.
I frantically called Jack’s mobile; each time it diverted immediately to voicemail. I tried Billy’s mobile and waited for what felt an eternity for it to connect, remembering his text to me, advising me his number would cease working that day. It was probably too late in the day to hope for it to connect. But a transient moment of relief rolled over me at the sound of his voice.
‘Eve? You okay?’ I heard.
‘Billy, where are you? Jack’s gone to Trevellas Porth and…’ Did I want to tell him this? I had to. Jack was in danger. ‘He’s there too. Gregg. They’re both heading for Trevellas Porth.’
‘What the…?’
‘Where are you?’ I asked.
‘The old bomb factory, Perranporth head.’ Billy’s intentions dawned on me at the sheepish tone of his voice. Nobody went to the bomb factory at that time of the day. Derelict and deserted. ‘Gregg’s supposed to be here, now. Meeting me. He’s late.’
‘Jack left me a note, said he’s gone rock jumping at Trevellas. Oh, Jesus, Billy, he’s on his own with Gregg!’
‘Eve, calm yourself a minute. Gregg’s supposed to be meeting me here. He thinks I have the flash-drive. Maybe you’re jumping to conclusions. Jack’s probably with one of his mates. Gregg’s coming here, I’ve made sure – he’d be scared not to…’
‘You don’t understand. I sent Gregg a text. He was supposed to be meeting me tonight with the flash-drive. At Trevellas, where Jack is. I’ve got to go; I need to find him.’
‘Eve. Wait. I’m on my way. Wait for me. Eve? Wait at yours.’
I didn’t wait. I didn’t answer. I chucked the phone down, before charging out into the back garden. When we moved in, Jack and I had planted a holly shrub together, to celebrate our new life; new beginnings. A mark of where we’d come from; but most importantly where we’d wanted to be. It had also been a personal marker for me. I hadn’t thought that Jack had seen. For underneath the woody shrub, a foot to the left, was a small metal trunk in which I had buried my weapons. The flash-drive and the gun.
I fell to my knees, and began to pull frenziedly at sodden craggy soil. It was only seconds before my worst fears were realized: the trunk had gone. Jack, oh, dear God, Jack! Where were you? What were you doing? What had you done? Slipping and sliding, scrambling back through the back door, as best I could on jellied legs; I grabbed my car keys and mobile. Storming through the house and out through the front door, hurtling down the cobbled path to my car.
I sped down to the seafront car park and leapt out. The winding path was just about visible but was fading away with the natural light. I dashed for it. The sea beneath me lashed rhythmically at the rocks as the tide drew in. My feet, feeling disconnected from my legs, urgent but unsteady as smaller rocks moved under my pressure. Pure dread surged me forward. The shadowy light was against me and I hit a rutted rock, obscured in shingle and plunged forward. Pain daggered my left wrist, shooting up to my elbow as it hit the ground to break my descent. My ankle twisted jammed behind the rock, to the sound of a rubbery crack. I needed to get to Jack. I could just about make out the cliff top. I was nearly there. I pushed myself up to my feet, brushing my bleeding gritted palms on my pale grey trousers.
I pressed on aware yet oblivious of the ascending coastal wind, eerie looming shadows cast by dense shrub high like heathers, following me. My heart pounded through my ears as I forgot to breathe. Still, surging forward, wrapping my pointless cotton jacket around me tightly as it attempted to escape. I was nearly there. I strained my eyes to the top and allowed them to follow the fall of the cliff. Nothing. Just a murky unnerving ocean, scattered with sinister daggered rocks. A total divergence from its exquisite daytime form. My legs burning with numbness as I made what I thought was my final perilous climb.
As I reached the plateau of the top, I mechanically ground to a halt to hold my breath. In front of me, just a few steps to the edge of the cliff top, stood a dark shadow. Jack. Facing away from me. Before him was another obscure shadow; merely a sigh from the edge. Facing down to murky waters. It was Billy. Thank God, it was Billy. I released my breath, allowing my hands to fall to my knees, and bent over. But wait – how did Billy get here so quickly? And what are they both staring at? Why is Billy standing so dangerously close to the edge?
‘Jack? Billy?’ I desperately called.