I watch from the doorway as she settles him back down and sets his twinkle mobile playing.
She eases the door closed when he’s asleep.
“Thanks,” she says. “Sometimes it takes hours.”
I don’t have hours.
I don’t even have minutes.
Every breath takes me closer to disaster.
So I say it. I have to.
“Come with me,” I say. “Both of you.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “But I can’t… you said you don’t even know me, and you don’t know Joe, and what about Dean? Dean’s been so good to us, and he has nobody. His parents are assholes.”
I know that feeling.
“Then I guess we get to know each other, Lissa. You, me, Joseph. Dean, too. We’ll all go. Fresh start.”
She shakes her head, and it’s not a refusal it’s disbelief. She crumples to the floor and I head down there with her, and it feels so nice to be back in her arms.
“It’ll be scary for the first few months,” I say. “We may need to keep moving.”
“I don’t care,” she says. “We’ll go wherever you go, all of us.”
I hear the key in the front door, and kiss Lissa’s forehead before Dean comes through.
“I need to pack,” I say. “You do, too. Come over this afternoon when you’re ready. Pack as light as you can. We’ll leave from mine.”
She nods. “We’ll be there.”
And I know she will be.
I’ll be waiting.Chapter Forty-SixAlexanderI cab it back to mine with my heart in my hands.
Make or break.
Life or death.
And I’m excited.
This rollercoaster isn’t done yet.
We’ll leave under darkness, when anyone watching thinks I’m all tucked up for the evening.
I’ll organise a hire car and get it delivered before midnight, and we’ll take off for somewhere far away. Anywhere.
Maybe the coast. Brutus will like it there. So would Joseph, I’m sure.
Brutus wags his tail as I step on in. I bolt the doors up tight and get to work.
I sort through my paperwork and take the few pieces of documentation I need.
I pack my photos and the few of my gemstones that made it through my rage unscathed.
I choose my favourite suits from the sea of black in my wardrobe, and contemplate whether I’ll still be wearing them in a few months’ time.
Choosing the things from my boys’ old bedrooms takes the longest. It’s a ladder into the loft job, rooting through boxes I’d packed in a hurry. Some finger paintings, and their first teddy bears and Matthew’s reward chart that I pulled down from the kitchen door.
Two cases is all I need. My whole life packed in two cases.
The second of them is mainly filled with the contents of my safe.
My father tries to call at seven a.m. and again at eight and nine on the dot.
He leaves a voicemail at eleven, but I don’t listen.
It’s when I get a text from an unknown number that I know the rumour mill has started.
Ronald bastard Robertson.
I wish I could give him the scoop before I go. One last confession of my father’s seedy business for his tabloid.
He attempts to call me at lunchtime. Pings an email to my work address asking for a puppet master exclusive.
I ignore that, too.
There are only two things I have left to do.
Order a hire car, and wait for Melissa.
I get to work ordering the hire car.Melissa“We’re really gonna do this?” Dean asks and I nod.
“We’re really doing this.”
He helps me with Joe’s things, packing them into one of Mum and Dad’s old suitcases as Joe tries to pull them back out again. It’s a slow process but a happy one.
Dean hardly has anything for himself. One single rucksack stuffed with clothes and his phone charger.
I hardly take any care with mine, just throw in the clothes fit for purpose and my crystals along with them. It’s when I get to my parents’ room that things become a bit harder.
Photos and memories. Too many to pack.
But I guess I can send for them when we’re settled.
Months, Alexander said.
“You’re sure he’s down with me coming?” Dean asks and I nod.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“And things won’t be… weird?”
“Not if we don’t let them be. Fresh start, right? This place is so full of memories. Good and bad.”
“A fresh start sounds real good.” he says. “For all of us.”
Yes, it does.
The cash is the last thing I pack, wedges of notes that I was waiting to deposit into Joseph’s account when I got the chance.
It feels weird to pile it in amongst my clothes.
I’ll give it back to Alexander. He can take care of it, for Joe.
I hope he can take care of all of us.
I hope he lets me take care of him right back.
Our things are piled up in the hallway when I call a cab. We’re out of breath when we’ve lugged it downstairs, but I fasten Joe in with a smile.
“Wave goodbye to our old house,” I say and he does. He waves b-bye.