the cups. ‘Two sugars, right?’ she said, still not facing him.
‘Yeah.’
Helen finished stirring and brought the tea over, placing the cup down and sitting across from him.
‘Thanks.’
‘That’s okay.’
Rob took a sip without thinking, the hot tea burning his mouth a little. He bit back on a yawn, the feeling of exhaustion creeping up on him. He set the cup back down on the table. He needed to smoke. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
‘When Jemma’s dad died, she took it hard,’ Helen began, her eyes on a coaster she was fiddling with on the table. ‘She was fifteen, in her final year of school. She had plans to go on and do her A-levels, then uni. But her dad died, and she shut down. They were close, a proper pair. He got her a season ticket when she was six, and she went to the match with him every time they were at home. I wouldn’t let him take her to away matches, too tribal. He never called her Jemma, it was always LP. Little Princess. She was at school when he died. Massive heart attack; he was dead by the time he hit the floor the doctors told me. She never got to say goodbye. At the funeral, she didn’t cry. She stood there with a confused look on her face, as if she didn’t know where she was or why. I didn’t want her to go the cemetery, but my sister talked me into it. Said it would be good for her. Not sure I’d agree with her now. Anyway, after that, Jemma wasn’t the same. I caught her sneaking money out my purse, she’d be out all hours, coming home smelling of drink. I tried talking to her, but it was pointless. Her exams were a wash out. She never did her A-levels.’ She dropped the coaster and picked up the cup. She brought it to her lips, blew on the tea softly before taking a sip. Rob watched her, the clock ticking in the background the only sound.
‘The first time she left, she was gone three days,’ Helen continued, ‘she was only sixteen. She left a note saying she was going away for a while and not to worry.’ She snorted quietly. ‘Being a parent, that’s your main job, to worry about your kids. Anyway, the police weren’t really interested, said she’d turn up when she ran out of money. I was sick with worry, had my sister’s husband driving me all round Liverpool trying to find her. Then, three days later, she walked through the door like nothing had happened. You can’t imagine how I felt those three days. I was lost, imagining everything that could have been happening to her.’ She shuddered as the memories came back to her. Rob sat in silence, taking in the very different version of the woman he’d shared his life with.
‘I screamed at her, called her everything, but she didn’t listen. She wouldn’t even tell me where she’d been. For the next few years, she’d take off every month or so. Sometimes a couple of days, sometimes weeks. When she met Mark, I thought she was settled. She was happy again, her old self.’ Helen shrugged her shoulders. ‘But it didn’t last. She’d tell me about the arguments they would have, that kind of thing. And then she left. Six months she was gone. Not a phone call, email, nothing. After a month or so, I started to worry. Phoned everyone in the family, her friends, no one knew where she was. I called the police, but she was twenty, she could do what she liked. They put her on a list, questioned Mark a little, but nothing came of it.’
She paused, tracing a finger over the rim of her cup. ‘She’d been at my sister’s. She lives in Boston. Over on the east coast.’
‘In America?’ Rob asked, surprised Jemma had never mentioned it.
‘No, it’s in this country. Funny, I know. It’s nice over there, but we don’t talk much, me and my sister. Especially since then. Not once did she tell me Jemma was there. The worst thing was what my sister said when Jemma came home and told me where she’d been. Said she’d do it again if Jemma asked.’ Helen muttered something under her breath which Rob
‘Yeah.’
Helen finished stirring and brought the tea over, placing the cup down and sitting across from him.
‘Thanks.’
‘That’s okay.’
Rob took a sip without thinking, the hot tea burning his mouth a little. He bit back on a yawn, the feeling of exhaustion creeping up on him. He set the cup back down on the table. He needed to smoke. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
‘When Jemma’s dad died, she took it hard,’ Helen began, her eyes on a coaster she was fiddling with on the table. ‘She was fifteen, in her final year of school. She had plans to go on and do her A-levels, then uni. But her dad died, and she shut down. They were close, a proper pair. He got her a season ticket when she was six, and she went to the match with him every time they were at home. I wouldn’t let him take her to away matches, too tribal. He never called her Jemma, it was always LP. Little Princess. She was at school when he died. Massive heart attack; he was dead by the time he hit the floor the doctors told me. She never got to say goodbye. At the funeral, she didn’t cry. She stood there with a confused look on her face, as if she didn’t know where she was or why. I didn’t want her to go the cemetery, but my sister talked me into it. Said it would be good for her. Not sure I’d agree with her now. Anyway, after that, Jemma wasn’t the same. I caught her sneaking money out my purse, she’d be out all hours, coming home smelling of drink. I tried talking to her, but it was pointless. Her exams were a wash out. She never did her A-levels.’ She dropped the coaster and picked up the cup. She brought it to her lips, blew on the tea softly before taking a sip. Rob watched her, the clock ticking in the background the only sound.
‘The first time she left, she was gone three days,’ Helen continued, ‘she was only sixteen. She left a note saying she was going away for a while and not to worry.’ She snorted quietly. ‘Being a parent, that’s your main job, to worry about your kids. Anyway, the police weren’t really interested, said she’d turn up when she ran out of money. I was sick with worry, had my sister’s husband driving me all round Liverpool trying to find her. Then, three days later, she walked through the door like nothing had happened. You can’t imagine how I felt those three days. I was lost, imagining everything that could have been happening to her.’ She shuddered as the memories came back to her. Rob sat in silence, taking in the very different version of the woman he’d shared his life with.
‘I screamed at her, called her everything, but she didn’t listen. She wouldn’t even tell me where she’d been. For the next few years, she’d take off every month or so. Sometimes a couple of days, sometimes weeks. When she met Mark, I thought she was settled. She was happy again, her old self.’ Helen shrugged her shoulders. ‘But it didn’t last. She’d tell me about the arguments they would have, that kind of thing. And then she left. Six months she was gone. Not a phone call, email, nothing. After a month or so, I started to worry. Phoned everyone in the family, her friends, no one knew where she was. I called the police, but she was twenty, she could do what she liked. They put her on a list, questioned Mark a little, but nothing came of it.’
She paused, tracing a finger over the rim of her cup. ‘She’d been at my sister’s. She lives in Boston. Over on the east coast.’
‘In America?’ Rob asked, surprised Jemma had never mentioned it.
‘No, it’s in this country. Funny, I know. It’s nice over there, but we don’t talk much, me and my sister. Especially since then. Not once did she tell me Jemma was there. The worst thing was what my sister said when Jemma came home and told me where she’d been. Said she’d do it again if Jemma asked.’ Helen muttered something under her breath which Rob
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