Page 98 of Jackson
I studied his face, trying to work out if I could see anything to indicate a meltdown on the horizon. There was nothing, other than sadness, which surprised me. I wasn’t expectingthat.
“How do you feel?” Iasked.
“I don’t know. I feel a little confused right now. I know what I should feel, I should be fucking over the moon, jumping for joy, but I’mnot.”
“When do you want to flyhome?”
“I need a day or so to think about this. I feel like a shit leaving it all to Perri, but I’d be a hypocrite if I went to his funeral. And I don’t want to sit here any longer talking aboutit.”
He swung his legs from the daybed and stood. He held out his hand for me. “Let’s take a walk,” hesaid.
We walked, hand in hand, along the beach. He was silent for most of the way and I just let him be. The sun had started to set as we made our way back to the house. Dexter was standing on the balcony when wearrived.
“Hey, Perri called,” hesaid.
“I wondered if she would,” Jackreplied.
“Need totalk?”
“No, I need to eat though. What has Alfie got ontonight?”
“Some mad concoction, I imagine, want to go findout?”
Jackson nodded his head before heading inside to collect his phone and carkeys.
“How is he?” Dexasked.
“I’m not sure. He hasn’t said too much, other than he doesn’t feel overjoyed and he thinks heshould.”
“He needs to understand that it’s okay to be sad. His father, good or bad, has been a powerful influence on his life, so I imagine he’ll feelconflicted.”
“He wants to fly home for a few days, although I don’t know if he wants to go to his funeral ornot.”
“Might help him to find closure if hedoes.”
Jackson joined us back on the balcony, and after locking up, we walked around the house to where the cars wereparked.
“Meet you there,” Jack said as Dexter walked to hiscar.
Jack opened the car door for me and I climbed in. He didn’t have his usual bounce as he walked around the car to the driver’s side. He wound down his window and started theengine.
“I don’t know what to say, to make you feel any better,” Isaid.
“What can you say? He’s dead. I just need to figure out how I feel aboutit.”
I took his hand as we drove along the coastal road. I was at a complete loss as to what to say or do. Perhaps an evening with his friends was needed, the distraction of being aroundthe misfits, as he called them, might help to settle hismind.
The beach was heaving, a queue had formed around the shack, which Jack ignored as he strode straight to the counter. I expected to hear grumbles but the crowd parted to let him through. It was only then that I realised how highly regarded he was. He collected a couple of bowls of food and two bottles of beer, and we found a spot near a bonfire someone hadlit.
D-J came and sat with us. He didn’t speak, just clinked his bottle against Jack’s in a silent toast. We sat and watched the night draw in and the party ramp up alittle.
We didn’t stay late, and I was glad. Jackson had knocked back a few too many beers, I thought, and I wanted him to have a clear head for the morning. He had arranged with Dexter that we’d travel to the airport and get the first flights out we could. I’d offered to go online and book but that wasn’t Jack. Everything he did was spur of the moment. And I wondered if, by turning up at the airport, there was that chance there wouldn’t be available flights. That gave him a get out if he neededone.
