lighter somehow, as if he’d put down a heavy backpack that he’d been dragging around with him for months. ‘So now you know everything,’ he
said. ‘You’re not saying anything, which isn’t like you. Are you OK? What are you thinking?’
What was I thinking? I wasn’t sure: all the thoughts in my head were jumbled up and knotted together. People say they collect their thoughts, as if they’re collecting stamps, but for
me it’s always more like trying to sort a jar of hundreds and thousands into its constituent colours.
Jack had always seemed to me to be an equation which didn’t make sense, like an x without a value. Now he added up. All my questions and frustrations had been justified; he
had
been hiding something from me, something which was an obstacle to getting to know him properly. What he’d told me wasn’t what I’d been expecting – although I can’t
tell you exactly what I had expected. The truth wasn’t glamorous or funny or outrageous, like the possibilities Katie and I had discussed, it was sad and grimy. If only he could have trusted
me with it a little sooner, when I was still to be trusted.
I was also thinking how strong Jack was, and how brave, and how I was so much luckier than him because I’d never had to deal with anything really bad in my life. No one had ever hurt me,
not really.
I was remembering all the times I’d moaned to Jack about my dad because he wouldn’t let me stay out late or because he was a bit of a fusspot, and how he’d sympathised, when
inside he must have been thinking I was blessed, and that made me cringe.
I was thinking how weird it was that I hadn’t known Jack’s real name and had simply accepted that he was called Parmiter, just as Alex hadn’t thought to question whether I was
christened Laura. The big difference was, of course, that Jack had changed his name to help keep him safe, while I’d changed mine because I was playing a game, because I was a nosy, impatient
sneak.
And, most of all, I was thinking about confessing every last detail of what I’d done, so that absolutely everything was out in the open, so that there were no more lies and no more
secrets. If there was a time for revelations, surely this was it.
In the end, what I said was: ‘I’m just thinking how amazing you are, Jack’, and the moment, the opportunity to confess, was lost. It was a cop-out, I know, but I didn’t
have a clue where to start. Jack seemed so fragile and I couldn’t bear to break him. He didn’t need to know what I’d done. I’d find another way of making things right.
He held me, tightly. ‘I’m surprised, but I’m actually really glad I told you,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ I said.
He smiled. ‘It’s good that you know. I feel much closer to you now.’
‘So do I,’ I said, because I felt it was what he wanted to hear. And I wanted it to be true, I really did. But, if I’m honest, I felt more distant from Jack than ever before.
Laura was no longer hovering in the corner of the room, she’d marched over and wedged herself right in between us.
Chapter 13
As soon as my parents had arrived home and Jack had left, I went into my bedroom, shut the door and texted Katie, asking her to call urgently. It was after eleven-thirty but I
was sure she wouldn’t be asleep. Not on a Saturday night. She’d mentioned something about going to the cinema with one of our friends, although, to be honest, I’d been so caught
up in the dramas of my own day that I hadn’t really listened.
There was a short delay and then my phone began to purr.
‘What’s up?’ she slurred, drowsily, when I answered.
‘You weren’t asleep, were you?’
‘Not really. Not any more,’ she said, irritated. ‘I told you, I decided not to go out tonight because I was feeling a bit dead. Has something happened? Does Jack know you went
to the football?’
‘No, it’s not that.’
‘Oh,’ she said, in a voice which suggested I could have waited
said. ‘You’re not saying anything, which isn’t like you. Are you OK? What are you thinking?’
What was I thinking? I wasn’t sure: all the thoughts in my head were jumbled up and knotted together. People say they collect their thoughts, as if they’re collecting stamps, but for
me it’s always more like trying to sort a jar of hundreds and thousands into its constituent colours.
Jack had always seemed to me to be an equation which didn’t make sense, like an x without a value. Now he added up. All my questions and frustrations had been justified; he
had
been hiding something from me, something which was an obstacle to getting to know him properly. What he’d told me wasn’t what I’d been expecting – although I can’t
tell you exactly what I had expected. The truth wasn’t glamorous or funny or outrageous, like the possibilities Katie and I had discussed, it was sad and grimy. If only he could have trusted
me with it a little sooner, when I was still to be trusted.
I was also thinking how strong Jack was, and how brave, and how I was so much luckier than him because I’d never had to deal with anything really bad in my life. No one had ever hurt me,
not really.
I was remembering all the times I’d moaned to Jack about my dad because he wouldn’t let me stay out late or because he was a bit of a fusspot, and how he’d sympathised, when
inside he must have been thinking I was blessed, and that made me cringe.
I was thinking how weird it was that I hadn’t known Jack’s real name and had simply accepted that he was called Parmiter, just as Alex hadn’t thought to question whether I was
christened Laura. The big difference was, of course, that Jack had changed his name to help keep him safe, while I’d changed mine because I was playing a game, because I was a nosy, impatient
sneak.
And, most of all, I was thinking about confessing every last detail of what I’d done, so that absolutely everything was out in the open, so that there were no more lies and no more
secrets. If there was a time for revelations, surely this was it.
In the end, what I said was: ‘I’m just thinking how amazing you are, Jack’, and the moment, the opportunity to confess, was lost. It was a cop-out, I know, but I didn’t
have a clue where to start. Jack seemed so fragile and I couldn’t bear to break him. He didn’t need to know what I’d done. I’d find another way of making things right.
He held me, tightly. ‘I’m surprised, but I’m actually really glad I told you,’ he said.
‘Me too,’ I said.
He smiled. ‘It’s good that you know. I feel much closer to you now.’
‘So do I,’ I said, because I felt it was what he wanted to hear. And I wanted it to be true, I really did. But, if I’m honest, I felt more distant from Jack than ever before.
Laura was no longer hovering in the corner of the room, she’d marched over and wedged herself right in between us.
Chapter 13
As soon as my parents had arrived home and Jack had left, I went into my bedroom, shut the door and texted Katie, asking her to call urgently. It was after eleven-thirty but I
was sure she wouldn’t be asleep. Not on a Saturday night. She’d mentioned something about going to the cinema with one of our friends, although, to be honest, I’d been so caught
up in the dramas of my own day that I hadn’t really listened.
There was a short delay and then my phone began to purr.
‘What’s up?’ she slurred, drowsily, when I answered.
‘You weren’t asleep, were you?’
‘Not really. Not any more,’ she said, irritated. ‘I told you, I decided not to go out tonight because I was feeling a bit dead. Has something happened? Does Jack know you went
to the football?’
‘No, it’s not that.’
‘Oh,’ she said, in a voice which suggested I could have waited
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