Unplugged by Lisa Swallow

kitchen table, I go to Louise. The TV flashes pictures of Jem and Dylan, police gathered outside a hotel , and a picture of a young, blonde-haired girl. I stalk all things Blue Phoenix online so I know who this is, Jem’s latest girlfriend.
    “ What happened?” I ask.
    “ Jem’s girlfriend died.”
    “ Wow,” is the best I can manage. “How?”
    Louise tips her head back over the sofa. “Drugs, of course.”
    The Jem I knew from years ago was a mess. He was always closer to Dylan than Liam, but when I was around eleven years old Jem came over to Liam’s place more. He was skinny and nervy but always polite. I heard whispered conversations about his home life, never anything good. From what I understood, he was left alone to look after himself a lot, as his mum would go away for days at a time. Once Jem hit his mid-teens, the attitude switched to self-defence and he retreated from everyone apart from his three friends.
    Sometimes when Jem was high, he ’d talk to me in Liam’s kitchen as he made a snack, but the mix of my awe and discomfort around him saw me scurrying away. Jem was Louise’s crush and after years of walking around after him with puppy-dog eyes, he gave her what she wanted. This was the same night Liam kissed me, although she and Jem didn’t stop at kissing. The reality obviously blew away her rock star dreams because they haven’t spoken since that night.
    “ I’ll call him and see where he is. If this is true, I think he’ll be with the rest of the band somewhere,” Louise says.

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 12
     
     
    CERYS
     
    Liam left four days ago and I ’ve heard nothing. He doesn’t have my number; how would he? We lived in the same house so exchanging details wasn’t needed. I toy with asking Louise for his number but when I hear her on the phone to him and the call ends without him asking to talk to me, I realise there’s no point. What did I expect anyway? Dates? A relationship? I got to indulge my fantasy a second time; at least I stopped with a kiss again.
    Ella stopped asking about him after a couple of days ; she’s used to her dad making promises he doesn’t keep, so she’s filed him away in the ‘don’t expect anything’ box. She submerges herself back in the quiet of TV shows and colouring, with the occasional trip to the park when the weather allows.
    After one trip to the park, cut short by a flurry of snow, we head back to the house. It ’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and this year Ella is fully aware of Santa and presents, able to understand her Advent Calendar countdown. The remaining chocolates behind each day on her Calendar all disappeared around day twenty, and to my amusement Ella blamed Liam. When I refused to believe her, she then blamed Goldie.
    The snow falling on my face and mouth rewinds to the day by the Christmas tree in town, when Liam kissed them away. I shake the snow and memory away, annoyed that I ’m spending time dreaming about what can’t be.
    A familiar car sits on the driveway, the red paintwork of the flashy Ford sedan collecting snow.
    “Daddy’s car!” shouts Ella and pulls her gloved hand from mine.
    As she charges along the path toward the front door, I pause, unsure what I’m facing, or how I’ll cope. Anxiety and anger vie for top spot in my mind. The fact he never called to tell me he was coming isn’t a good sign.
    Goldie greets me like a returning family member as he always does; and I absent-mindedly pat the jumping dog, fighting the tight-chested feeling accompanying me into the kitchen.
    Ella is sitting on Craig ’s knee. He looks up as I enter and smiles. No wariness, no apologetic look, the face of someone who just arrived home after work and didn’t kick his partner and daughter onto the street two weeks ago. Craig’s a good-looking guy, and was always aware how many of the girls at school crushed on him. His mother’s Italian. He’s inherited the dark hair and deep brown eyes, and he spends too much time at the gym