Page 56 of The Spark

The following afternoon, Jamie popped out for some bread and milk. He left his phone on the coffee table in the living room. I only glanced at it when it flashed with a call. Probably his mum.

But it wasn’t his mum. Heather was the name on the screen.

To this day, I have no idea why I picked it up. Why I thought it was even remotely my place to answer.

‘Hello?’

A held note of hesitation. If slipping up had a sound, I felt sure this was it.

Then she asked for Jamie, in a voice as cool and smooth as cream.

‘Sorry. He’s out right now. Can I take a message?’

‘No, that’s okay. Thanks.’ And then she rang off.

I don’t know why the call made me feel so uneasy. I stayed where I was on the sofa, the phone a mudweight in my hand.

Jamie had never mentioned anyone called Heather.

‘Heather rang,’ I said, when he got back. I don’t know why I said it like she was someone we both knew. The words were out of my mouth before he’d even shut the back door.

I listened to him sling his keys onto the kitchen worktop, put away the bread and milk. Then he called out, ‘Oh, really? Okay. Cheers.’

‘I picked it up... because I thought it might be important.’

He wandered through to the living room, set his wallet on the coffee table. He nodded, but didn’t seem bothered about retrieving the phone from my hand. He didn’t pass further comment, appeared completely unconcerned.

‘She didn’t want to leave a message.’

He nodded again. I noticed his cheeks were ruddy from the walk. Or was he slightly flustered? ‘Fancy the pub?’

‘Okay.’ I took a breath, passed him the phone. ‘Who...? Who is she? Heather.’

He started scrolling, I couldn’t tell on what. ‘Oh, just someone from A&L.’

Archibald & Leicester, the firm in London where he’d spent the summer.

I waited.

He looked up. ‘You okay?’

‘Yeah, I was just... wondering who Heather is, that’s all.’

He frowned. ‘I told you. Someone I worked with at A&L.’

‘You never mentioned her.’

A beat. Tension clung like sweat to the space between us. ‘Why would I?’

‘I don’t know... because you have her number in your phone?’

‘Well, she was my mentor, so she gave it to me.’

I could feel my skin prickling. I wasn’t the jealous type, never had been. I wouldn’t have dreamed of policing Jamie’s calls, or his friendships, or anything. In the last days with my dad, we’d all lived on a boiling tide of my mother’s accusations, each one wilder and more devastating than the last. It was hard to witness, and I’d sworn to myself I would never be like that.

Still, some new reflex was compelling me to dig deeper. ‘But how come... you never mentioned her? If she was your mentor, I mean.’

Jamie shrugged. ‘I hardly had anything to do with her. She didn’t take the role of mentor that seriously, if I’m honest.’

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