53. Present Day – February
53
PRESENT DAY – FEbrUARY
SCOTT
I wait until David reaches out for the art shop door before I step out of the shadows and into the pool of light under a street lamp.
‘I wouldn’t go in just yet. She’s still in session.’
Eyes wide, he jerks towards me with a cough, probably to disguise a yelp of surprise, his fingers still grasped around the handle.
Stepping closer, I add, ‘I’m sure she’ll be pleased to see you here after class, though.’
Through the window, Josie moves around a circle of people, all with an easel in front of them. She’s nodding and listening to one student, completely confident and in control, a beautiful beam curled to her lips.
‘She told me to meet her here at twenty past. Said she wanted to talk.’ It’s not a question but he sounds unsure of himself.
‘That was me.’
He straightens at that.
‘Well, I asked Jamie to send that message from her phone. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d agree to meet me otherwise.’
It’s true. Josie has no idea I’d invited her dad here. I figured I needed to get things straight with him before even thinking of inviting the Clarkes on the expedition, so I explained the situation to Jamie. The lad was already more than a little invested in Josie’s art, and in Josie and me getting together, so he didn’t mind an extra assignment. Although he’s still none the wiser about the trail.
Deep grooves furrow David’s forehead. ‘Well, that’s?—’
‘I know, being underhanded is hardly going to do me any favours, but I wanted you to see this.’ I gesture through the window towards his stunning daughter. ‘Josie, in her element. She is …’ I scramble for the right words. I couldn’t get them straight in my head earlier. ‘Phenomenal.’
‘Everyone enjoys their hobbies,’ he starts to argue, and I can see him building up to dismiss her.
I quickly add, ‘Did you know she has nineteen thousand followers on Instagram?’
A burble of discontent rumbles out of his chest. ‘Social media rubbish.’
‘When I checked a month ago, she had eighteen thousand. She gained a thousand followers in a month and it’s only going up. And that’s thousands of potential customers she’s reaching every day.’
David grumbles on about a waste of time, so I change tack. ‘Originals in her Etsy store are sold out. She’s in such high demand.’
‘I don’t know what the meaning of all this is. What you’re trying to say.’
‘She’s not a little girl anymore.’ I hold my hand up as he starts to argue again. ‘She will always be your little girl. But she’s also a successful adult. An entrepreneur.’ I follow her movements as she tends to her group. ‘And I think she’s incredible.’ Looking back to David, I add, ‘I know you don’t like me much.’
His face twitches like he wants to say you can say that again, but when he doesn’t interrupt, I continue. ‘But if your daughter chooses to give me just a minute of her time, then I am going to cling onto it. I know I don’t deserve it, but I am going to cherish every second. And now, I don’t understand this either, but it just so happens I’m lucky enough for her to choose me to share her experience of travelling, of seeing the world . And there is nothing you can say, nothing in the world that can stop me. Unless of course, Josie changes her mind.’
‘She won’t.’ Janet’s voice cuts across us and David flinches.
I hadn’t noticed her approach, being too absorbed in watching Josie, in pleading with David.
‘I thought I should bring reinforcements,’ murmurs Jamie, stepping up next to her. ‘I went renegade.’
The four of us stand in an uneasy half-moon on the pavement, looking into the art shop from the night outside. The lights from the windows and the Craftisan sign cast a glow across our faces. Inside, Josie gesticulates a shape in the air to her students, a motley crew of all ages.
‘I’ve done a lot of thinking since Sunday. I owe Josie an apology.’ Janet’s voice is quiet but firm.
David snuffs and shifts his feet.
‘You know what she’s like when she gets an idea.’ She bumps her shoulder into David’s as she watches Josie.
‘Nonsense.’ David shakes his head. ‘All those frivolous hobbies. She never sticks at anything.’
‘David,’ she turns to him, ‘she has always painted, she has always sketched and doodled. And when she gets an idea in her head, she gives it a bloody good go whether she sticks with it or not. Look at her moving out. Look at how she’s driven Jamie to and from work every week: she said she would and she has. She’s tenacious. She’s … Josie.’
We stand in silence for a moment as I build myself up to say what I should have said eight years ago. And what I’ve only recently realised to be true.
‘I’m sorry for what happened to Marcus.’
The air grows thick around us. It feels like the world has stopped. There’s no traffic around, no noise. Not even the sound of my own breathing.
‘I wish I’d told him not to ride.’ I shut my eyes for a long second. ‘I wish we hadn’t got on our bikes. But we did.’ I let out a harsh breath. ‘And he died.’ I shake my head, still not okay with saying it out loud. ‘And I have carried the guilt of that being my fault for the last eight years.’ I tense my jaw; here goes. ‘It’s only recently, thanks to Jamie, actually, and Josie, I’ve started to realise I’m not to blame for it. It was an accident.’
‘You’re not to blame for it,’ Janet repeats, agreeing.
My head snaps up to look at her. Stunned that she agrees.
‘No one is.’ Her eyes widen. ‘But if anyone is to blame,’ she softens her tone, ‘it’s Marcus.’
‘Janet,’ David’s voice catches, rough like his throat is cut up.
‘He was the only one who could choose if he got on that bike or not, David. He was the one who chose not to give way at the junction.’ She throws her hand up as if she could physically bat away his protests. ‘And it’s not only Scottie we put this on.’
‘Scott,’ Jamie interjects.
Janet disregards him and continues. ‘I’ve always blamed that other driver. But I was wrong. It was dark and raining and,’ she shakes her head, words quickening, ‘Marcus didn’t stop.’
‘And how is Jamie involved in all this?’ David asks, as if seizing his one last chance to be right — or for me to be wrong.
‘He returned some flash drives with videos of mine and Marcus’s …’ I pause to pick my words, ‘… antics.’
‘Jacklads, you mean?’ Janet cocks an eyebrow and deliberately scans between Jamie and I.
My gaze flicks to Jamie. ‘You showed her?’ A horrifying montage flashes through my head of the videos where I looked less than stellar; being bound like a Christmas tree, the football game.
Jeez.
‘Only enough to get her to see my point,’ he hisses through gritted teeth.
I let out a huffed laugh of relief. That could have got real awkward real quick.
‘Yes, and David, you need to see these, too.’ Janet motions to Jamie while she takes David’s arm. ‘I was already regretting being so … overbearing.’ Janet winces. ‘And these videos reminded me how Marcus really … was .’
David’s head shakes repeatedly, as if he’s short-circuited with protest-mode on.
‘ Look. Look at how much fun he squeezed from life.’ Janet takes Jamie’s phone and taps it.
Jamie must have uploaded some of the videos, because a familiar image of Marcus laughing suddenly fills the screen.
‘I c… can’t.’ David swallows, blinking.
‘Please try,’ I say. ‘Discovering these videos was … a gift.’
David shuts his eyes but I persist.
‘They made me remember what he was really like.’
‘He was a force of nature,’ says Janet.
‘I couldn’t control him.’ I let out a shaky breath. ‘Nor should I have had to. And expecting teenage me to rein him in was … incredibly unfair. And,’ I add quickly, ‘I put that on myself, this idea that I could have stopped him. I’ve only recently come to terms with that.’ I drag my fingers through my hair and frown, not getting my words right. ‘I mean, I wanted to look after him, obviously. He was my best friend. But I put an unfair task on my young shoulders.’
‘It was unfair of us to put that on you, too.’ Janet rubs my arm and I offer her a small smile. ‘David, we only knew where he was most of the time because Scottie looked after him and brought him home.’
‘It’s Scott, ’ gasps Jamie.
‘I will never get used to that.’ Janet shakes her head. ‘Scott …’ she tails off, uncertain. Looking between David and I she takes a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry we took so much of our grief out on you.’
‘Grief does weird sh— er, stuff.’ I hurry to correct myself. ‘It put me in a pretty messed-up headspace.’
‘Probably inhibited grief because it was so traumatic,’ Jamie says with an air of authority. ‘And survivor’s guilt.’
We all turn to him and stare.
‘What? You guys have Google, don’t you?’ Jamie shakes his head. ‘I swear this whole family needs counselling,’ he mutters under his breath. ‘Please look, Dad,’ he adds solemnly. ‘We never talk about him.’
Almost robotically, jerkily, like he’s fighting it, David takes the phone. As his eyes settle on the picture, his legs buckle, and I ease him down to sit on the curb.
Janet and Jamie sit on either side of him, me next to Jamie, and we watch the tiny screen showing Marcus singing on helium. Tears stream silently down our faces.
David’s shoulders shake and Janet soothes his back.
Jamie takes the phone from his father’s grip and says, ‘There’s more, Dad. We can watch more when you’re ready.’
‘This is all…’ David sighs and doesn’t finish his sentence. ‘I think Jamie’s right.’ He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. ‘I do need to see someone.’
‘I’ll come,’ says Janet, voice full of emotions. Relief, kindness, love.
‘Can we get back to why we’re here?’ Jamie interrupts the tender moment, in a way that only a teenager can. ‘ Josie ?’ he explains, eyebrows hitched.
Jumping to his feet, he brushes off the back of his jeans. ‘Come on, her class is almost over.’
‘David?’ Janet asks, his name loaded with so many questions.
He takes a deep, shuddering breath.
‘We need to support her on this or we will lose her, too.’ Janet rubs his arm. ‘You know, all of our children are incredibly talented and incredibly stubborn. They all know, or knew, their own minds. Has us ever saying one single thing stopped any of them from doing exactly what they wanted?’ She releases David and sticks her hands up to Jamie. As he helps her up, she continues, ‘Even this one — doing his damndest to get a motorbike, despite every protest, warning, and hurdle we put in his way.’
Once on her feet, Janet pulls her son into a hug.
I clamber up and offer an outstretched hand to help David up from the curb.
He hesitates, eyes catching mine. There’s a flicker, and I’m sure I see the moment he starts to accept this. Accept Josie. Maybe even accept me. He takes my hand, his leathery grip firm, and I haul him to his feet. Briefly, he touches his other hand on top of mine, encasing me in a momentary, warm handshake.
The shop door swings open and Josie startles back, probably surprised to find people right outside the shop, let alone people she recognises.
‘Dad?’
The class attendees start to file out, squeezing past us all and calling out goodbyes.
‘Mum?’ Josie’s head keeps popping up and down as if she takes in another member of our group with every peek through the leaving throng.
‘What are you doing here?’ She smiles nervously between all of us once the last student has left.
‘Can we come in?’ Janet asks and Josie stands back, eyes wide, ushering us all inside.
As I duck in last, she mouths at me, what the fuck? Surprise and confusion crease her brow.
I lean in to kiss her cheek and breathe, ‘I wanted them to see you in your element. It might help with telling them about our trip.’
‘A little warning next time, please,’ she hisses, but it’s good-natured.
‘Hear them out,’ I murmur before nipping her ear.
Josie shuts the door behind us and we find ourselves stood in a circle at the front of the store.
Janet reaches for her. ‘Hello, love.’ She gives her a squeeze. ‘I’m sorry for?—’
‘Mum, don’t.’ Josie pulls back and shakes her head with a sad smile. ‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not.’ Their arms clasp each other. ‘I want to apologise. For the meal, for everything. I want to explain?—’
A lock of hair loosens as Josie shakes her head. ‘But I know why …’
It’s as if she’s still trying to stop her mum suffering.
Janet sets back her shoulders and pulls a stern face. ‘Right, then. Just let me say, I’m sorry and you were right.’ She straightens Josie’s apron strap and dusts invisible lint from her non-existent lapels. ‘Now, I’m here for you. I see you. And I want to see where you work.’
‘And you couldn’t come in the daylight?’ Josie cocks an eyebrow with a gentle smile.
‘They sprung a surprise night-time visit on me once,’ Jamie chuckles and Josie reaches over to him, throwing an arm around his neck in greeting. ‘It’s only fair.’
‘And you all decided to come together, did you?’ Josie twists her neck, casting her gaze over the whole group.
I spot David looking awkward, like he knows he has to apologise, but perhaps doesn’t want it to be with an audience. He’s here, he’s trying, and that's the main thing.
‘Something like that,’ I say, throwing my arm around her and drawing her in for another kiss.
Her hair, the silky rich auburn, tickles my nose, and I relax as I inhale her tropical smell.
‘You want a tour? Really?’ Disbelief shines in her eyes.
‘Really,’ Janet says.
‘You asked for it.’ Josie’s beam lights her up.
She leads us around on a tour of the shop, excitedly pulling out her favourite colour paint and insisting we feel the softness of the bristles on her favourite range of paint brushes.
‘Whose art is on the wall, love?’ Janet asks, gesturing to a selection of pieces behind the sales counter.
‘The owner likes to showcase local artists. That’s mine.’ Josie points up to a watercolour of a hummingbird.
‘It’s very good.’
Josie gives a shy smile and shrugs. It still baffles me, how different she is around her parents, always trying to dim her light, trying to shrink down to mere mortal level to please them, when I know she is a fucking radiant goddess.
‘Have you seen any of Josie’s work online?’ I ask Janet and she shakes her head with a slight frown.
‘Where have you been, Mum? Look …’ Jamie grabs his phone from his pocket and after a few taps, shoves it under Janet’s nose. ‘See?’ They drift off to a couple of chairs left by the evening class and he starts talking her through the site.
It’s just three of us now and I hang back slightly. Maybe I should give Josie and her dad space.
David is leaning on the counter, staring at the painting. Josie grabs a bowl from beside the till and thrusts it towards him.
‘Sucker?’
His hand snakes out and then pauses mid-air, above the selection of lollipops and bonbons. Then his shoulders drop as his gaze meet hers. ‘I am, aren’t I?’
Josie gives an exaggerated sigh. ‘Take a sweetie, Dad. If I was going to insult you, I’d use a more accurate term than sucker .’
He retrieves something small and red, rustling the cellophane as he unwraps it.
‘Josie, I’m sorry. I … I …’
She holds up a palm. ‘Let me stop you right there.’
‘What?’
‘I appreciate your apology. Thank you. Can we move on? I can’t cope if you go all weird on me. You’re supposed to be the cool one.’ She darts her head over towards her mum, where Janet is squinting, moving Jamie’s phone backwards and forwards as if trying to zoom in real life.
‘Don’t be weird,’ repeats David. ‘Okay, but …’
‘Well, you can be weird, just don’t go all soft on me. Be your usual self. And,’ she lifts herself up to sit on the counter then jerks her chin at me, ‘don’t be mean to my boyfriend. It’s not a lot to ask.’
A rush of warm approval flushes through me. She may have confessed her love in a storeroom but I haven’t heard her call me her boyfriend before and, now, I suddenly understand why my baby brother turned into a complete simp for Ella. I’m hers . And she’s mine .
‘I …’ David hesitates and levels his gaze on me. ‘I’m not going to apologise to you for trying to protect my only daughter.’
‘Not asking you to,’ Josie and I say in unison. She catches my eye and grazes her bottom lip with a small grin.
David looks from Josie to me, then back to Josie again. ‘But I am sorry for some of the other things I’ve said.’
‘Can we just start again?’ I don’t need her dad to grovel. I don’t want him to. I just want all of us to be able to move forward from here. We’ve been buried in the past for too long.
He purses his lips together and gives me a nod before returning to Josie. I take this moment to leave them to their private conversation and spin around to find the other two.
David’s voice carries as I walk away. ‘I am sorry,’ he’s saying. ‘I think I need to speak to someone about it all. I think we all should.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Josie replies and they fade out as I quicken my steps.
Janet is working her way around the easels, pausing at each in turn to study the composition. ‘Some of these are rather good,’ she muses.
‘What’s this?’ Jamie laughs, holding up a huge pad, almost bigger than him, with some hastily scribbled sketches — stick people and squares with triangular roofs for houses in black marker scrawled across it.
Josie looks up from where she’s hugging her dad. ‘That’s our Pictionary-style ice-breaker warm up. It gets the creative juices flowing.’
‘A guessing game, huh?’ I waggle my eyebrows at her across the shop.
Comprehension dawns on Josie’s face a moment later.
‘Mum, Dad,’ she calls as she crosses over to me. ‘Let’s play a quick game of Pictionary before you go.’
I carefully clear one of the easels and take the pad from Jamie and flip to the first blank page. Josie scrabbles around to find a couple of markers, passes one to me, then bites off the lid of hers. Her parents and Jamie shuffle around us and pull up three chairs in a line. As if they’ve done this a hundred times before.
Josie draws seven long lines across the top of the page.
‘Seven words?’ asks Jamie.
Josie nods, tips her head and then, poking her tongue between her teeth, adds two more lines.
‘Nine words,’ David corrects.
She indicates the third word and starts to sketch out a stick person going up a ladder, which Janet soon guesses as climbing. Josie points at Janet with a nod as if to say nailed it. She motions for me to write the word in the gap. Not entirely sure what exact phrase she has in mind, I fill in the correct word above the line she indicated.
Josie then dabs the marker on the seventh line and, in a gap, draws out a tin with circles above it.
‘Money. Tin. Collection ,’ shouts Janet.
‘Charity,’ Jamie tries and Josie nods.
I write out charity above line number seven.
Next she moves to another blank part of the paper and draws two arrows down from the fourth and fifth line. Then she starts to quickly and meticulously sketch what I recognise as an Incan citadel.
‘Stonehenge,’ shouts Jamie and I snort.
Janet frowns. ‘The colosseum?’
I circle my finger to indicate they keep going, they’re on the right track, while Josie adds more and more detail, finally finishing it with the towering mountain backdrop, speckled with greenery.
‘Chichen Itza,’ babbles David. ‘No — Machu Picchu!’
Josie beams and points to him. The pen squeaks as I print the letters above the lines.
Next, Josie dashes over to the counter suddenly, and comes back with a piece of white card squashed to her chest.
She takes a deep breath. Nodding to herself, she looks down at what’s on the other side. With a hesitant smile, she slowly turns the paper around.
An incredible likeness of Marcus is sketched on the card and Janet gasps, clutching her mouth before moving forwards.
‘Jo Jo, that’s so good.’ She takes the picture, poring over it before passing it to David, emotion filling her eyes.
‘Marcus,’ he murmurs.
I write the name above the last gap.
Josie claps briskly, as if to say moment over — back to business, people — and then points to the first word. Then she draws five wholly awful stick people adding long hair to two of them.
‘Is that meant to be us?’ Jamie asks.
She nods and points between the paper and the room. And then all hell breaks loose and the game descends into chaos. I chuckle as Josie gets steadily infuriated as she jabs the pen at the paper and then back at us, with Janet and Jamie calling out increasingly ridiculous and unrelated words.
‘We are climbing … Machu Picchu … for charity and Marcus,’ David eventually murmurs and then repeats a little louder. ‘ We are climbing Machu Picchu for charity and for Marcus?’ He jerks his head to look between us all. ‘ We are?’
‘Yessss!’ Josie cheers and bounds over to him, arms wide.
‘Oh, my goodness, love, I don’t understand.’ Janet clutches her chest and moves into the hug.
Jamie’s eyes are bright, face filled with disbelief. ‘All of us?’
I nod. ‘We’ll fill you in.’