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“I don’t like it but okay,” she took a brief second to afford me a brief smile, albeit a forced one. “Scarlett, if he doesn’t answer I am going over there and I will camp outside that door until he opens it.” With steely determination, Pat flicked the indicator on and turned left down the road that would take us home.

There was nothing I could do now except pray he answered his damn phone.

CHAPTER 12

JAMIE

The sight that greeted me as I stood in the doorway to my bedroom was sickening. The noose that hung from the loft hatch and my dress uniform laid out neatly on the bed were a stark reminder of how low I’d sunk. Moving toward the bed, I picked up Tom’s dog tags that lay beside mine and ran my fingertips across the embossed details.

WOOD T. 0 POS.

My fist closes tightly around the cool metal as I take a moment to remember that day. The heat, the smell and the fear shroud me as I collapse backwards on the mattress. I allow myself to cry freely, something I’ve avoided doing since that day. The light sobs quickly turn into something more guttural and gut-wrenching. How does life go on without him? I let the enormity of it all engulf me; breathed it in, and blew it out. I know I have to acknowledge it before I can begin to piece everything back together, before I can even think about the future, I have to accept what’s passed. That Tom has gone, and I have to navigate this world without him now. With the heal of my palms pressed against my eyes, I try to stem the tears as I rise to sit on the edge of the bed again. Lifting the tags to my mouth, I hold them against my lips and mutter an almost silent promiseto my best friend, “For you, mate. Only for you.” I slipped the chain around my neck and tucked the tags inside my T-shirt, the feel of the cool metal against my chest, next to my heart, helped to ground me. As I left the bedroom, I took a glance back at the rope and chair I’d carefully placed hours ago, they’d stay for now as a reminder.

The shrill ringtone of my phone drowned out the click of the bedroom door closing firmly behind me, I knew who it was without checking the screen. Pulling it from my back pocket, I contemplated not answering it but I knew if I didn’t, she’d only come and break down the door. My thumb slid across the screen to accept Mum’s call.

“I’m amazed you’re not on the doorstep trying to break down the door,” my fingertips squeezed the bridge of my nose as I spoke.

“You have Scarlett to thank for that. She convinced me to leave you be this afternoon, but let me tell you, if you hadn’t answered you’d be living out that nightmare within the hour,” the tone of her voice was a dead giveaway to how much I’d hurt her. I’d never be able to take that back, that was something else I’d need to learn to live with now. “Do you want me to come over? I can be there in five minutes, if that’s what you want. Or Scarlett, or both of us. Just tell me what you need, love.” A small sob escaped from her as she waited for me to answer.

I could hear Scarlett in the background, offering words of comfort, but I couldn’t quite make out what she was saying. “Maybe tomorrow, Mum. I just need some time, I’m alright but I can’t deal with anything else today,” my eyes searched the ceiling as I waited for her to argue, and insist she’d be over with home-cooked food but, surprisingly, she agreed.

On a less shaky breath, she replied, “Okay, I’ll give you the rest of today, on one condition,” I knew there would be some caveat attached. “If I ring, you answer. If you don’t answer I willcall the police. Tomorrow is a different matter. Are we clear?” The tearful, wobbly voice replaced now with a tone far more defiant. Parent mode had been firmly engaged.

“Okay, I’ll speak to you soon then,” no doubt the first call would be within the hour, but who could blame her. I’d almost destroyed her life along with my own.

Just as I was about to end the call, she said, “I love you, son.” And then the line went dead, leaving me staring at the blank screen. It took me a minute or two to pull myself together again. I refused to cry again today. Of course, she’d told me she loved me a million times over. More often than not, she told me several times a day, but this time it hit differently. This time, it almost shattered me.

Surprisingly, it was Scarlett who texted me before my mother had a chance to call. The text had come precisely thirty-five minutes later.

Hey, I’m heading home from your mum’s. She seems okay, for now. If you need anything, drop me a message and I can drop it off on my way.

The three little dots bounced on the screen, indicating she was typing out another message. I waited patiently, but the dots disappeared. I clicked the screen to reply minutes later but the dots reappeared, quickly followed by a second text message.

I know you’ve read my message so I’m guessing you’re still alive. Speak soon, Scar x.

Dropping my phone on the kitchen counter, I pulled open the fridge. My stomach rumbled as I perused the last slice of curled up ham in the packet and a stale piece of cheese that taunted me. Cereal it was then. I dragged a bowl from the draining board andthe box of Shreddies from the cupboard, as I poured the milk over the top, ensuring each piece had its fair share of the creamy liquid, my phone rang out and bounced along the countertop. Mum’s name lit up the screen. I let it ring a few times before I accepted the call and placed it on speakerphone. “Hey Mum, I’m okay. Just having some cereal can we talk later?”

“At least you’re eating, even if it is only cereal. Do you not have any proper food? Shall I bring something over? I’ve made a shepherd’s pie, your favourite. There’s plenty, I can’t get used to just cooking for me now. I always make too much. It’s no trouble for me to bring you a plate to heat up.”

The cold milk slid down my throat as I spooned another mouthful of cereal in. “No thanks, I’m happy with my Shreddies. Look, I’m going to try sleep in a bit, I’m tired. So, if I don’t answer, that’s why. No need to call the cavalry.” I knew making light of the situation was not the best idea but I didn’t want to sound too harsh and tell her not to call again.

“Jamie, I told you earlier you have a couple of options. You answer the phone when I call; you let me come over and stay with you or I call the police. It’s your decision.” Her steely determination more than evident. “Which is it?” she prompted me to answer.

“Alright, alright, I get it. Speak soon,” I ended the call before she had time to reply and lifted the bowl to my lips, tipping the remainder of the milk into my mouth. The back of my hand served as a napkin as I wiped away any residual mild from my chin.

The only thing I was sure of now was that it was going to be a long night.

CHAPTER 13

SCARLETT

Three hours have passed since I last texted him. Sleep evades me tonight, every time I close my eyes, all I can see was Jamie, flat out on his couch and non-responsive. The paramedics calmly treating him as I look on, horrified that I might lose the only person that meant almost as much to me as Tom did. Picking up my phone, I check the time; it won’t be long until the birds wake and start their dawn chorus. I open up the messaging app and pull up my last conversation with Jamie. Frustratingly, there are no new messages but it shows me he’s online right now. My heart rate spikes a little as I tap out a text.

Can’t you sleep? Me neither.

Nothing too intrusive, no begging for him to call, just a nice and quick checking-in type of message. Avidly, I watch the screen, waiting for the three little dots to appear. Nothing. Okay, so maybe he’s gone to the loo or is grabbing a drink. Give him a minute, Scarlett. I readjust my position in bed, turning on the bedside light after I’ve punched the pillows into submission and nestled myself comfortably underneath the duvet. Still no response, but the little blue ticks have appeared beside mymessage. At least he’s read it. Switching from the messaging app to Instagram, I flicked through the random cat videos people have posted, pausing briefly to chuckle as one fell into the bath with its owner. The scramble to get it out before it maimed her was real. Ten minutes have passed, and still no response from Jamie. As I revert back to WhatsApp, I curse him for putting me through this, “If Tom were here, he wouldn’t let you get away with this shit.” I almost shout at my phone as if it would answer me instead of Jamie. My fingers fly across the screen tapping out a message to convey my anger, spilling out every emotion via my fingertips. How dare he make me feel this helpless. I hover over the send button, my head telling me to let him know exactly what a dick he’s being, but my heart overrules it as I huff out a breath and delete the words, sweeping my feelings aside, again.

Try to get some rest.

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