Page 68 of Jackson
I was thankful that the seat beside me remained unoccupied. I raised the arm and curled up with my back against the window. I dozed on and off, I ate, and I listened to music. I played James Bay,Incompleteon repeat. It was the song Jack and I had danced to in the kitchen and every single word resonated with me. It could have been written aboutus.
It was the following day that I arrived home to a cold, soulless apartment in rainy London. I left my case in my bedroom, stripped off my creased clothing, and took a shower. I climbed in bed and buried my face in my pillow. I hadn’t slept properly for over twenty-four hours and my body was totallyfucked.
* * *
It wastwo days later that I had a need to leave the apartment. I had no food and headed to the supermarket. My head was full of Jackson as I placed random items in my basket. I chuckled bitterly at the checkout—my basket was full of the usual break-up crap. I had two tubs of ice cream, a bottle of wine, and chocolate. I had thought to buy milk atleast.
When I arrived home, I unpacked. I’d checked my phone repeatedly and each time felt a pang of disappointment that there was no call or text. I thought long and hard about what Dexter had told me. Dane and Jack had fought; the words swam around myhead.
Jackson had confessed he loved me. He tried to helpDane.
Had he though? How hard had he tried to save Dane? I pushed the thought from my mind. All the questions I had a year previous flooded my brain. Dane and Jack had been on a rare boys’ night out. They hadn’t done that for months. I’d been pleased because I loved them both and to see their friendship so strained had saddened me. I knew Dane was drunk at the time of the accident; I’d had the unhappy experience of sitting through the coroner’s verdict. There had been no witnesses; it was dark. The train driver wasn’t even sure what he’d hit at first. I closed my eyes and my stomach heaved at a memory. I’d overheard an official from the train company that day at theinquest.
‘Thankfully, the train was slowing for the station, otherwise there wouldn’t have been much to identify the poor kidby.’
My stomach lurched; I sprang to my feet and, with my hand over my mouth, ran for the bathroom. I only just made it before I threwup.
* * *
Iseemedto be on autopilot. I went to bed and slept, I got up and ate, and I went to bed again. I’d been at home nearly a week before I got any communication from Dexter. He had sent me a text while I’dslept.
He’s doing better, knows he’s lost you, but he’s determined to turn his life around to win you back. He hasn’t cut atall.
It was good news, I thought, but not enough. Despite what I knew where Dane’s accident was concerned, despite what I saw, I still loved Jackson. I couldn’t switch that off, but the conflict inside held me back from replying immediately. Jackson knew what happened that night and he’d lied to me. His version, and the version given to the police was that Dane was drunk and decided to walk along the wall. He slipped; Jack was too far away to get to him before hefell.
I’d spent the previous few days trying to figure out why Jackson had lied. He wasn’t to blame, if what he had said was true, they’d fought, but Dane had toppled over the wall. So why lie? What else wasn’t I beingtold?
I scrolled through my phone. I had several missed calls from my mum but I didn’t want to call, she’d be able to tell immediately something was wrong, just from the tone of my voice. I wasn’t sure what I would say, I wasn’t sure of anything other than one thing. I needed someone to talk to, someone who knew Jack. My finger hovered over a number I’d never used. I’d met Perri several times, and somehow I’d ended up with her mobile number in my phone. Idialled.
“Hello?” Iheard.
“Perri, this is Summer,Jack’s…”
“Hi, Summer, how nice to hear from you. How are you?” She cut off my sentence obviously rememberingme.
“Erm,I’m…”
“Summer?”
“I just left Jack, he’s notgood.”
“Are you in theUK?”
“Yes, I’m at home,” Isaid.
“Give me your address, can I visit you thisevening?”
“Of course, I need to talk tosomeone.”
I gave her my address and she promised she’d visit. We said goodbye and I laid the phone down on the sofa beside me. I wasn’t sure I had done the right thing; maybe she didn’t know what he did. Maybe she did, and I was about to get an earful for leaving him. I thought back to the last time I’d met her. We had been at mutual friend’s barbecue and it had been wonderful to see her with Jack. She was the big sister: teasing, hugging, and chatting to him and all his friends. She was polite, pleasant company and I’d spent some time chatting with her. She was a lawyer but it was never mentioned that she worked for her father. I often wondered how Jack felt about that. Did he think she supported what her fatherdid?
For the rest of the day I paced, tidied up, paced some more, slept a little and as the hours wore on, I became anxious. By the time I heard the intercom buzz, I was a bundle of nerves. I released the main door and stood by the apartment one, waiting for Perri. She had opted for the stairs and smiled at me as she walked along thecorridor.
“Summer, how are you?” she said, as she pulled me into anembrace.
“I’m okay, sort of.” I led her into the kitchen. “Can I pour you awine?”
“I think I’m going to need it, aren’tI?”
