Midnight

JOSEPHINE COX

Midnight

Copyright

Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright © Josephine Cox 2011

Josephine Cox asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

ISBN: 978-0-00-730146-1

EBook Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780007383825

Version: 2017-08-16

This is for my Ken, as always

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Also by Josephine Cox

About the Publisher

This book is very special to me. During the writing of MIDNIGHT, my darling sister took ill, and never recovered. It was one of the most traumatic times of my life, because a sister is extra-special, a gift to be treasured. And I treasured her far more than I can ever describe. Winifred was my best friend, my confidante and soulmate. We did girlie things and talked naughty as only two women can. We cried together, laughed together, and shared every intimate moment from when we were children.

She was there when I was born, and she will be with me forever, though sadly not in person. My first memory of her was when she was pushing me in my pram and it tipped over. I remember screaming for my ‘Mammy’ and I recall Winifred picking me up in her little chubby arms and rocking me quiet. My Mother never knew where I got the scratches and bumps.

Growing up, we were mostly inseparable. We played tricks and were wonderfully naughty. We laughed and cried and fought anyone who hurt the other. Our Winnie was kind and fierce and gentle and harsh. She did not suffer fools gladly, and she said what she meant. We all loved her without condition; her brothers and sisters; her many lovely children; and the men she gave her heart to; especially dear Mick. We will all miss her. She was a one-off. The like of which we will never see again.

My sincere condolences to all of you who have lost a loved one. Keep the memories close. They will comfort you when you’re low. And for those of you who have fallen out with family, please make up if you possibly can. The family is the most precious gift you could have. Cherish it. Because you never know when it might be snatched away.

Chapter One

DISTURBED FROM HER sleep, Molly shifted across the bed to him. ‘Wake up, Jack. I’m here. You’re safe now.’ Wrapping her arms about him, she kept him close.

Lost in the darkness, Jack heard her faraway call. Beneath his body the earth was soft and pliable. He was not alone, though. Something else was here. Something shocking.

He heard Molly calling, and he knew instinctively she was his only way back. ‘I’ve got you,’ she promised. ‘I won’t let anything hurt you!’

With each crippling nightmare, Molly was there for him. ‘I have you safe, Jack,’ she murmured. ‘I won’t let you go.’

For as long as he could remember, Jack had fought his demons. They were always there, in his sleep, in his dreams. Always in the darkness. Hazy, shifting shadows, hiding in the moonlight. And all around him, a sense of evil and the eyes . . . cold, unmoving.

He could hardly breathe. He needed to get away from here.

He could hear Molly calling. He knew she would save him – but for how long? So many times he’d escaped, only to be drawn back, time and again, to this lonely midnight place.

The darkness and the images had haunted him forever; almost to the edge of madness.

From far away Molly’s insistent voice quietened his heart, ‘Wake up, Jack . . . wake up!’

Desperate to leave, he was instinctively compelled to stay.

Why had the visions plagued him all these years? Why would they not let him be?

‘Ssh now.’ Folding the corner of the bedsheet, Molly wiped away the beads of sweat that poured down his face. ‘Listen to me. It’s just a dream,’ Softly she coaxed him, ‘Open your eyes, Jack. Come away now.’

Most times she could waken him, but this time he resisted. Closing her fingers about his flailing fists, she spoke sternly: ‘Jack! You need to open your eyes and look at me.’

Suddenly, without warning, the fight went from him. His clenched fists fell heavily by his sides and Molly felt his whole body tremble and shiver. He woke up and turned to look at her, his eyes scarred and heavy with what he had seen, back there, in that place.

‘Midnight, ’ he whispered brokenly. The remnants of horror lingered like a cloak over his mind. ‘Where is it, Molly?’ he murmured. ‘What does it mean?’ He gave an involuntary shiver. ‘Why won’t it let me be?’

She searched for an answer. ‘It isn’t real,’ she said finally. ‘It was just a dream – a bad dream – and now it’s over.’

When he slowly shook his head, she placed the palms of her hands either side of his face. ‘Let it go, Jack. Don’t think about it now.’ Like many times before, she saw how deeply it affected him. Tenderly, she kissed him, once on each cheek, much as a mother might kiss her child. ‘It’s gone now,’ she comforted him. ‘Maybe it won’t ever come back.’

‘Maybe.’ He leaned into her embrace. ‘. . . Maybe not.’ He knew it would be back. Molly meant well, but she didn’t know what it was like. How could she?

All his life the nightmare had haunted him, and not only when he slept. Sometimes in the daylight hours, something evil carried him back there. Something urgent. Something deep in his psyche.

As a boy he might be playing in the street with his pals, when the darkness would suddenly come over him and he would creep away to hide in some quiet corner. The other boys began to tease him. They said it was no good having Jack Redmond on your side, because halfway through the match he would suddenly run away to huddle in a dark corner. He never told them the truth. He never told anyone.

If he had, they might have thought he was ‘off his rocker’ and should be locked away – like that poor soul on Tamworth Street who had drowned her newborn twins before killing herself. He heard the cruel talk, about how she should ‘rot in Hell’. The thought of it filled him with a different horror.

Jack Redmond had never betrayed the awful secret he carried with him. He began to believe he must have done a bad thing. If not, then why was he afraid to close his eyes and sleep?

And what about the drawings he’d made at school? Those frightening images that appeared on the paper, almost as though something – or someone – else was making the pictures and not him.

The teachers were annoyed. They took the drawings away. They said he should pay attention and listen to what was asked of him, instead of allowing his imagination to run riot.

They never understood – but it wasn’t their fault. How could they see what he saw, trapped in that lonely hellhole, so real and terrifying? Was it his warped imagination? Or was there really a place like that somewhere?

What a shocking thought . . . that it might actually exist outside of his nightmares. He shuddered. Surely that could never be.

Or could it?

As the years passed, the fragmented images remained, as did the feelings of helplessness. He had so many questions, and no answers. Jack wondered if he would ever know the truth, and more importantly – did he really want to?

All he had ever wanted was for it all to go away, and for him to be normal, like other people. Instead, the nightmares were growing stronger, more persistent. He wanted to know, but he was afraid.

Jack took a deep breath, thrusting the images from his mind. Outside, the early-morning sun in Leighton Buzzard was already spreading a brightness over the day. Soon, the alarm would go off and he would get up and go about his business. For now though, he felt halfway between that place and this. It was a strange, disturbing feeling.

He heard Molly speaking softly in his ear. ‘Feeling better now?’

A quietness came over him as he gazed on that wide, pretty mouth and troubled brown eyes. Molly was everything to him. She was his woman, and she kept him sane.

He had always believed that he and Molly were meant to be. To have her as his wife, settle down and raise a family was his dearest wish. But he dared not make any plans for a future together. At least, not until he was rid of the demons that tormented him.

Drawing her close, he kissed her tenderly. ‘Yes, I’m all right.’ He needed her, but he did not deserve her. ‘Thank you, Molly,’ he murmured. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ssh.’ Running her fingers through his unruly mop of brown hair, Molly thought him to be a fine figure of a man. He had such strength of character in his features, particularly his eyes, which could be very mischievous at times; yet even when he laughed, those eyes were brooding, as though hiding a secret – a cruel, unforgiving secret that haunted the mind.

‘Molly?’ Jack leaned forward, to bury his face in the softness of her neck, ‘I’m sorry.’ He drew away, but kept his arm about her. ‘None of this is fair on you.’

‘No, it isn’t!’ Her quiet anger was fuelled by a pressing desire to get on with their lives. ‘You’re right. What’s happening is not fair – on either of us.’ It was time to say what she felt.

His silence made her feel guilty, but she continued: ‘It’s been going on for too long, and I’m afraid.’

‘Afraid?’ Jack thought it an odd thing for her to say. ‘Of what, exactly?’

‘The nightmares . . . the way they affect you. I’m afraid for you, Jack.’

She was also afraid for herself. Angry too. Why would he never listen to her?!

Jack remained quiet. He was used to her sudden bursts of anger, but this time he believed she was right to speak her mind.

‘You need help,’ she insisted, ‘Surely you can see that?’

Shrugging her off, Jack replied, ‘It was just a bad dream and now it’s gone – maybe for ever.’

Molly grew impatient. ‘You must see what’s happening to us! The nightmares . . . the lack of sleep, and the fear of where it’s all leading. We can’t go on like this – it’s eating into our lives. You have to see someone!’

Impatient, Jack moved away. ‘I’ve heard it all before, Molly. I don’t need to hear it again!’

‘Oh, but you do.’ Clambering up, she stood before him, deliberately blocking his way. ‘I see what it does to you, Jack, and this time it was worse than ever, because this time I was beginning to think I would not be able to bring you back. I was frightened, Jack. I was really frightened!’

‘You needn’t have been.’

Her voice shaking, Molly gave him a warning, ‘I can’t put up with this, Jack. Can’t you see? This thing is taking over! You can’t sleep and when you do, you go to a place where there is no rest, no peace, and sometimes lately when I talk to you, you’re not even listening. You’re back there somewhere . . . lost in a place I can’t go.’

‘Oh, now you really are talking rubbish!’

But Jack knew she was right. Sometimes in the evening, when he sat down after a hard day at work, he felt himself drifting into the darkness. Up until now, he had not realised Molly was aware of it.

‘Jack?’

‘Yes?

In a stern voice Molly told him what was on her mind. ‘These nightmares . . . the lack of proper sleep – it’s only a matter of time before it affects your work, and mine too.’

Jack was adamant. ‘That won’t happen!’

‘But it could!’ Molly was relentless. ‘I mean, it’s definitely beginning to affect our relationship.’

In that moment, a sobering thought came to her. ‘Oh my God! Maybe it’s not the nightmares or lack of sleep that’s taking you from me!’

‘What d’you mean?’ Jack was shaken. ‘Nothing is taking me from you!’

‘Don’t fob me off, Jack! Every time I raise the question of marriage, you’re full of excuses. You need to save more money first, or you want to wait until I’m absolutely sure I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Well, I can tell you now, I’m beginning to think you want rid of me but you don’t have the guts to tell me, so then you worry, and the worry plays on your mind and you have these bad dreams. That’s the truth of it, isn’t it?’

‘No!’ He was genuinely shocked. ‘No, it isn’t, and I can’t believe you’re even thinking that.’

‘So what am I supposed to think? Tell me, Jack. I mean, we don’t talk at any great length, do we? We don’t even go out any more. We don’t have friends back – and we haven’t made love in weeks! Can you blame me for thinking you don’t want me any more?’

Wrapping his capable hands about her small shoulders, he drew her closer, ‘I love you as much as ever. You’re a very special part of my life, and always will be.’ He kissed her full and longingly on the mouth. ‘You and me, we belong together,’ he whispered. ‘I knew it from the start.’

‘Do you really mean that?’

‘You know I do, Molly, and like I say . . . I’m really sorry for putting you through all that – the nightmares and lack of sleep. Making you think I didn’t want you any more.’

Gently moving away from him, she sat on the edge of the bed. ‘It’s not just the nightmares,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s the fact that you won’t do anything about them.’

‘There’s no need. They’ll probably go away in time.’ Deliberately ignoring his protest, Molly went on, ‘The trouble is, you can’t see what I can see.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means that when you’re inside the nightmare, you make these weird little sounds, like you can’t breathe, and you lash out violently, as though fending off some kind of attack – as if there’s something that means to harm you. What is it, Jack? What fills you with such terror?’

Jack looked away. ‘I don’t know.’

‘So, do you want to know?’ Molly’s anger bubbled to the surface. ‘Do you want answers?’

He shrugged. ‘I just want to be rid of the nightmares.’

‘What if they’re not nightmares?’

‘What d’you mean?’

Molly searched for the right words. ‘I’m not sure, but maybe you should get a medical. Maybe it’s something to do with the brain?’

‘No medical.’

Agitated, he got up and went to stand beside her. ‘Listen to me. I know you’re worried for me, and I’m sure the lack of sleep is beginning to affect you too. So I was thinking, maybe the answer is for us to sleep in separate rooms, at least for now?’

‘I don’t want to sleep in separate rooms,’ Molly snapped angrily, ‘unless I was right just now, and you really do want to be rid of me. What’s the plan, Jack? Get me out of your bed then the next move is out the door. Is that it?’

Jack grew agitated. ‘Look, all I’m saying is, we’re both getting ratty, and it’s my fault.’

‘So get checked out.’

‘OK then, yes – I will.’

‘When?’

He gave a shrug, ‘When I find the time.’

‘In other words, never.’

When Molly began to push him further, he backed off. ‘I’d best get ready for work. I don’t want to be late again.’

‘I’m not letting this drop,’ she warned him. ‘I mean it!’

‘I can see that.’

‘So tell me,’ she demanded, ‘why you won’t get help. Explain it to me, because I don’t understand.’

‘Just leave it, Molly. Like I said . . . I’ll deal with it.’

There was no feasible way of explaining to her. How could he describe to anyone else what he experienced when inside the nightmare? The answer was, he couldn’t. There were no words for it. The whole terrible experience was like a part of him, like an arm or a leg. Sometimes, that haunting place really felt like an extension of himself. How could anyone ever understand?

Seeing him looking so lost, Molly’s heart went out to him. ‘I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t mean to be angry,’ she said impatiently. ‘It’s just that I don’t understand how you could suffer for so long, without at least trying to do something about it. There are people out there who might be able to help you. That’s all I’m trying to say.’

‘I don’t want us to row,’ Jack told her. ‘But I don’t believe it’s possible to stop someone having nightmares. It’s not like putting sticking plaster on a cut, or fixing a broken arm, is it? And don’t you think I’d have tried talking to someone years ago, if I really thought it might help?’

‘All right, Jack, I hear what you’re saying, and I know you don’t like the idea of discussing it with a stranger – but talking to someone about it won’t make it any worse than it is. You could explain how long you’ve been having the nightmares and how they’re disrupting your sleep, so much so that you’ve started nodding off behind the wheel of your car. It’s dangerous, Jack. Suppose you crashed? I would never forgive myself for not having tried everything in my power to make you get help.’

In truth, she was growing impatient, even asking herself whether she should bring their relationship to an end. After all, there were plenty of other fish in the sea. Jack came with a lot of baggage, and did she really need that responsibility?

‘Seeing a doctor won’t help.’

‘Oh, and you know that, do you? Without even trying?’ Molly measured her words carefully. ‘We’re not talking about a doctor who mends broken legs or delivers babies. But there are other doctors – who specialise in how the mind works.’

Jack didn’t like the sound of that. ‘You mean a shrink?’

‘If that’s what you want to call them, yes. People who know about troubles of the mind. All I’m asking is that you just go and see. Make enquiries at least.’

‘No!’ Jack had had enough. He escaped to the bathroom, calling as he went, ‘Even if I went to see somebody as you suggest, they can’t tell me any more than I already know. All they can do is ask me questions to which I have no answers. Or, they could drug me and probe my mind. I don’t want that, and I won’t do it, not even for you.’

‘Now you’re just being pig-headed!’ Molly followed him to the bathroom. ‘Look, you could tell them what happens – what you see, what you feel. Explain how it affects you. Tell them how at first it happened maybe once or twice in a month, but lately it’s every week.’ She took a deep breath, then said more calmly, ‘If you make an appointment, then later decide not to go through with it, that’s OK. You can walk away. It’s worth a try through, isn’t it?’

Encouraged when he gave no reply, she went on, ‘Just make an appointment, eh? Will you do it, Jack – for my sake?’

Placing one hand on her shoulder, he absent-mindedly brushed the fringe from her eyes. ‘I don’t like the idea,’ he said. ‘Besides, how could I make them understand, when I don’t even understand myself ?’ Just thinking about it, he could feel the sweat coating the palms of his hands. ‘I’m not sure I can do it, Molly.’

‘So, what are you afraid of ?’

Momentarily taken aback by her direct question, he answered, in a soft voice, almost as though he was speaking to himself, ‘Maybe I’m afraid of what’s lurking there, in the back of my mind. Maybe I’m afraid of releasing some terrible thing that might be even worse than the nightmares.’ He wondered what could ever be worse than his nightmares.

He grew troubled, ‘I don’t want to talk about it any more,’ he told her. ‘Not to you, and certainly not to some stranger.’ Seeing her about to speak, he snapped, ‘Leave me be, Molly! I’ll deal with it in my own way. I’ve told you before – I can handle it!’

A few moments later, he emerged from the bathroom, filled with regret for yelling at her, ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘OK, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll promise to think about it, and that’s as far as I go for now. So, does that satisfy you?’

Molly answered sulkily, ‘Well, it’s a start, at least.’

‘OK, so now let it drop. I don’t want to hear any more about it. No more nagging. No more arguments. Agreed?’

‘All right, then. But if you haven’t done something about it within a week, then I’ll be after you again. I won’t leave it there!’

Jack merely gave a grunt.

‘I mean it,’ Molly went on. ‘I can’t take much more of it – and I certainly don’t want to sleep in separate beds.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘But it might come to that. Just look at us now. We’re almost at each other’s throats again, and I don’t want it to be like this.’

He may be a good catch, she thought, but was he worth the aggravation?

Having washed and shaved, Jack now threw on his shirt and trousers while Molly had a quick shower and got ready for work at Banbury’s estate agents.

Over coffee, Jack was bright and chatty, but he rejected breakfast. ‘I’m not really hungry, ’ he said. ‘The boss is out on some appointment and the other four guys are all tied up with clients, so I’ve been asked to oversee the showrooms. I thought we might meet up for a bite to eat about twelvish My treat, so what do you say?’

Molly liked the idea of that. ‘Great! I’ve got a viewing in Leighton Buzzard at ten-thirty, which should take me up to midday, so yes, I’m up for that.’

Jack was anxious to get away, ‘So, I’ll see you later then?’

After a quick slurp of her coffee, Molly asked him. ‘Can I just say one more thing? Then I promise, I’ll shut up?’

Jack nodded. ‘Go on then,’ he urged. ‘One more thing, but then I’ve got to go.’

Molly spoke with sincerity. ‘I know I’ve been nagging you, but it’s only because I’m worried. It’s been three months since I came to live here with you, and in that time, I’ve seen what these nightmares do to you. Even during the day sometimes, I’ve seen how you glance over your shoulder, almost as though you half expect somebody to be there. It does concern me, Jack, and I’d be so relieved if I knew you were seeing someone about getting help. Before it drives us both crazy.’

Reaching out, she patted his hand. ‘There! That’s all I wanted to say, and now I’ll shut up about it. So, where do you want to meet up? I don’t want to go to that scruffy little café near the showrooms. The last time we went there, I had a hair in my sandwich.’

Jack was easy. ‘OK – what about the pub in Woburn Sands – the one on the corner, called the Drake? They do cracking home-cooked food.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because I’ve had lunch there.’ ‘Oh, really? So how come you didn’t take me?’ ‘Because it was a work thing, booked and paid for by the customer.’ Grabbing his jacket from the back of the door, Jack slipped it on. ‘I’ll see you there then?’

On his way to the car, Jack looked back to see Molly waving him goodbye from the doorway.

‘See you later!’ he called.

Molly gave a curt nod.

A moment later, he was gone.

‘You’d best keep your promise, Jack Redmond!’ she muttered to herself.

En route to work, Jack thought about Molly’s warning. He understood her concern, but she could have no real idea of his fears. Crawling along in the traffic, his mind went back to when he was a child. Strangers had tried before and failed to rid him of the nightmares. ‘They couldn’t help me then,’ he thought, ‘so how can they help me now, when I’m thirty?’ Leaving Leighton Buzzard behind, he swung onto the A5 and headed for Bletchley.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he slowly began to agree that Molly was right. It was only a matter of time before their relationship was damaged beyond repair, and he didn’t want that to happen.

By the time he’d arrived at work and parked the car, the idea was growing on him. Making his way down to the showrooms, he felt more confident with every stride. ‘I suppose I could make an appointment,’ he thought, ‘and like Molly said, I don’t need to stay if I feel uncomfortable about it.’

Pushing open the heavy glass doors, he bade a cheery good morning to his colleagues. ‘Is the boss in?’ he asked the pretty blonde at reception.

Flicking out a handkerchief, the girl, called Jan, discreetly blew her nose. ‘Sorry, Jack, but, Old Branagan called in to say he was heading straight for Bedford.’

‘Dammit!’ Jack was disappointed. ‘I’ve got someone interested in trading his car against our demonstrator. I just need to run the costing by him.’

He gave it a moment’s thought. ‘That’s okay. The customer isn’t due until late morning – plenty of time for me to phone the boss on his mobile. All I need is a quick conversation. I’ve got all the figures, except for the price tag on the demonstrator.’

Placing his folder on the counter, Jack gave her an easy smile. ‘Branagan’s a crafty devil, though! He’s known all week that we’ve got the schedules to work through.’

Jan giggled. ‘You’ll have to sort out the schedules yourself then, won’t you?’ She winked cheekily.

Jack winked back. ‘Ah! But if I do the deal on the demonstrator, it’ll be me who gets the commission.’

Enjoying the banter, Jan asked casually, ‘Have you thought about that offer?’

‘What offer?’

‘You know.’ She tutted. ‘I thought Branagan had already mentioned it – about you running the new showrooms they’re setting up in Lancashire. That’s your neck of the woods, isn’t it?’

‘Oh, yes! I mean no, I haven’t really thought about it, and no, I haven’t actually been offered it yet either.’

‘Yes, you have. I heard him telling you about it only the other day. He asked if you had a hankering to go back north. I heard him say it.’

‘Yes, but he didn’t offer me the job.’

‘In a roundabout way he did.’

Jack smiled, ‘Ah, but asking questions in a roundabout way doesn’t get answers, does it? Besides, what with the recession biting, who knows if they’ll be going through with it? Soon, none of us will be able to afford to buy cars. We’ll be back to our pushbikes, or Shank’s pony.’ He chuckled.

‘So, if you were asked,’ Jan persisted, ‘you’d say yes, would you?’ She hoped not, because Jack was the only really friendly bloke there. All the others treated her like part of the furniture. Car showrooms were truly a man’s world, and didn’t she know it.

Jack gave it a moment’s thought. His answer was a resounding ‘Nope!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I’ve been there, done that.’ He smiled. ‘So, is the inquisition over now, little Miss Nosy?’

‘Don’t you miss the north?’

‘Sometimes.’ He shrugged. ‘I suppose.’

‘What about family and friends – wouldn’t you like to get back amongst them?’

‘I was an only child and my father died when I was sixteen,’ Jack answered. ‘My mother soon remarried and moved to America with her new husband. I heard later that she’d taken on three teenage children, a house the size of Buckingham Palace, and money coming out of their ears.’ He gave a wry little smile. ‘I never heard from her again. But it didn’t matter, because even before she left she never had any time for me. I think she saw me as a waste of space.’

‘Aw, that’s awful!’ The young woman could not imagine life without her own, doting parents.

‘Truth is, I never missed her after she was gone. I’d been left to my own devices for years. So, when Dad died and Mother took off, I sorted myself out, just like I’d always done.’

When she had abandoned him, his mother left him an address, but she must have moved quickly on, because when he wrote to that address, the letter came back, stamped Return to Sender. He was not surprised. In the end, he set about making his own way in the world.

It had not been easy – and there’d been no chance of taking up the place he’d been offered at Manchester University, which he’d regretted for a long time – but he was proud of what he’d achieved.

When he relayed all this to the girl, she tutted. ‘So, your mother turned her back on you. Well, it’s her loss, not yours.’ She quickly regretted her curt, throwaway remark. ‘Oh look, Jack . . . one day she’ll turn up on your doorstep, you’ll see.’

Jack used to think the same, but it had been too long and now he had no desire to ever see her again. ‘I wouldn’t hold your breath,’ he replied with a shrug.

‘What about friends?’ she prompted. ‘You must have made some of those?’

‘Well yes, there were school-friends, of course, but we lived too far apart to become lifelong buddies. We went to school, then we left and got on with our lives.’

‘And neighbours? Did you not make friends with some of the neighbours’ kids?’ She could see he was impatient to be off, but did not want to let him go just yet.

Jack’s mind went back along the years. ‘There were no boys of my age living in the street,’ he recalled. ‘I knew all the neighbours though, because after my father passed on, my mother carried on working for a while. She did shifts on reception at the Kings Hotel, and it seems I was bandied about like a little parcel . . . or so Eileen told me.’

‘Who’s “Eileen”?’ Jealousy sharpened her voice. ‘An old girlfriend?’

Jack laughed at that. ‘Hardly.’ It was all coming back now. ‘Eileen was Libby’s mother.’