Chapter 28
ELLIE
Jake
Landed safely. Hope you’re OK.
Ellie
That’s great news. Thanks for letting us know. We’re okay. What about you? X
Jake
I will be xx
It rained for the first three days after Jake left. The perfection reflection of my mood.
Everything irritated me and absolutely nothing went right. My umbrella blew inside out on the walk to work, forcing me to work an entire shift with wet hair. I burned dinner twice. I stubbed my toes three times. I walked past doors and caught my sleeve or belt loops on door handles.
And Noah…
“I don’t want it!” He shoved his plate so hard it almost slid to the other side of the table.
I let my head drop, trying to remain calm. I didn’t follow the gentle parenting approach in any rigid sort of way, but Noah had never behaved so badly and I knew my bad mood wouldn’t help matters.
I wish Jake was here.
He’d lighten the mood with a joke or a silly face, or some kind of fun distraction, giving me time and space to breathe and get myself together.
“But you love this usually,” I said, trying to ignore the sad pang in my chest.
“Jake makes it different.”
“I know he does, but Jake’s not here, and if you don’t eat now you’ll be hungry later.”
“I don’t want it!” Noah threw himself headfirst onto the sofa and straight into a temper tantrum, whacking and kicking the cushions despite the cast on his arm, and crying when the anger began to subside.
Lunch abandoned, I sat beside him, stroking his heaving back as he sobbed, trying to settle him, even though the only person who could was a thousand miles away right now.
Another ache pummelled me right in the heart.
“Mummy,” Noah whined, and the shiny hurt in his eyes sliced me in two. “I miss Jake.”
“I know, baby.”
That made two of us.
One evening a few days later, Grace dropped by unannounced with a bottle of white wine and a carrier bag filled with face mask sachets, bath bombs, a box of herbal teas, and a giant slab of chocolate.
“It’s my rushed version of a Heartbreak Box,” she explained, popping open the bottle while I grabbed a couple of wine glasses. “Ignore the fact that it’s in a bag. But I heard that Jake left and thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”
“This is so sweet, thank you. But I’m not heartbroken.”
“You’re not?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what it feels like. But I always knew this was coming.”
Grace poured the wine and handed me a glass. “Did you try asking him to stay?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you wanted him to, Ellie.”
I curled up in the corner of the sofa and sipped my wine. “I couldn’t. He cares so much about Noah that he’d probably stay for his sake and grow to resent me for asking.”
“What if he was waiting for a sign from you?” Grace said. “Why should he be the only one who puts his heart on the line?”
“I have two hearts to worry about,” I whispered, thinking of the little one beating in the other room.
Grace patted my hand and said no more.
A week after Jake left, I dropped Noah off at nursery, returned our latest stack of borrowed books to the library, then jumped on the bus to Blackheath to visit my favourite bakery.
It was a tiny shop, no space for more than three customers inside, but their cakes were sublime and the aesthetic was exactly what I pictured whenever I imagined owning my own bakery. Sometimes it was nice to dream.
There was a job vacancy in the window, and I made a vague mental note of it while I unwittingly ordered Jake’s favourite—a seasonal fruit and custard danish—before sitting on a bench overlooking the picture-perfect All Saints’ church on the edge of the heath, eating straight from the paper bag.
It was one of the few simple things Jake liked to do—sit and eat and people watch—so it was impossible not to think of him then, wondering where he was and if he was okay, if he missed us as much as we missed him. My heart knew he would, but it was hard not to doubt it.
At the end of the day, no matter what happened between us, Jake had chosen to leave. Maybe I’d given him a nudge too, but I had to protect us. I had to protect my son.
And caring about someone meant being unselfish, putting their needs above your own, and letting Jake stay would’ve been the complete opposite of that. He was a traveller at heart, and I couldn’t ask him to become someone he wasn’t, someone he could never be. He’d already done so much.
Most of all, I didn’t want him to resent me or Noah, and he would. Eventually. I refused to be the leash around anyone’s neck, least of all Jake’s.
Despite the silent agreement for space, I pulled out my phone and bought up his name in my contacts.
I let my thumb hover and tap, deliberating, before giving in to the urge. Not that it was a bad thing. We always intended to stay friends, and texting was the core of our friendship. It would be sad to lose that too.
Ellie
I’m currently in Blackheath eating your favourite pastry.
Jake
Custard danish?
Ellie
Duh.
Jake
Nice.
Ellie
There was a job vacancy in the bakery too. It got me thinking. It’s not much but it would be a start. I have to start somewhere, right?
Jake
YES. DO IT.
Ellie
You think so?
Jake
I know so. You deserve so much better than that wanker Martin as a boss & maybe it’s time to follow your dreams.
Ellie
Maybe. I’d miss Bertie though.
Jake
I mean, who wouldn’t?
Ellie
What are you doing right now?
Jake
Sleeping. Missing you.
Ellie
Jake
Jake
I didn’t mean it like that. Or maybe I did. Maybe I can’t stop thinking about you.
Ellie
You say that now, but it’ll pass.
His lack of a reply sounded like an agreement.
The stab in my heart felt like it too.
When I eventually made it home, I halted at the sight of Jake’s mum, Joanna, parked outside my building. She jumped out of her car and waved the second I reached the main front door.
“Mrs Johnson! What are you doing here?”
“I’ve told you to call me Joanna.” She ducked to air kiss both cheeks. “I’m here to offer my services.”
“Services?”
“Jake mentioned you might be short of someone to look after Noah now that he’s away, and I thought—”
“Mrs—Joanna,” I corrected at the swift rise of one brow. “That’s generous of you, but I couldn’t.”
“What’s your plan then?”
“Noah starts school next month, so I figured I’d pay for childcare until then. I’ve been saving for that anyway.”
“Nonsense,” she said, blocking the idea of it with one hand. “Let me help you.”
“I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“You didn’t. I’m offering.”
“You don’t live in the city though. Won’t commuting be an issue?”
“It took me twenty-five minutes to drive into the city today, which was twenty-five blissful minutes of alone time with ELO. You know, I always thought my children leaving the nest meant I’d have time to myself and listen to my music as loud as I liked, but my husband is always right there.
I love him, but my god I’d give anything for some space. ”
I chuckled at that. “Would you like to come in for tea?”
“I’d love to.”
A few minutes later, Joanna circled my flat in the same way her son had all those months before. She stared at all the books and knick-knacks, and spent a long time smiling at the pictures of me, Jake and Noah stuck to the fridge.
“Why… Why are you doing this?” I asked her, filling the kettle with water. “Not that I’m not touched by the offer, truly. But why?”
She looked at me like it was obvious. “Because my son loves you, which means you’re family, and we stick together.”
I blinked a few times, disconnected from reality, my brain stuck in a record-scratch replaying love and family and love.
“Jake doesn’t love me.”
If he did, he never would’ve left.
Right?
Joanna tilted her head gently to one side, and cupped my cheek. “Oh, my dear. He adores you.”
“What?” I breathed out.
“I knew it the second you stepped foot in my home. He’s never bought anyone home before. And when he looked at you like you were the only person in the room?” Joanna clasped at her chest, right above her heart, a dreamy expression decorating her face. “A mother knows, Ellie. She just knows.”
“Are you excited to start big boy school?” Joanna asked as we ate lunch at a little restaurant not far from Kings Cross.
Noah looked up from the colouring placemat they’d provided, along with a cup of crayons, and nodded eagerly. “I’m gonna get a lunchbox that looks like a shark.”
“Oh my. That sounds scary.”
“It’s a fun shark. It won’t hurt you.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I can’t believe you’re starting school already.” I shook my head in slow disbelief. “Where has the time gone?”
Joanna laughed. “It feels like that, doesn’t it?”
“Will Jake be back to take me to school?” Noah asked.
I met Joanna’s gaze across the table. I didn’t know how to answer that, and it seemed neither did she. In truth, I had no idea when Jake would be back or if he would be, despite saying so. There was every chance we wouldn’t see him for months.
How do I break that to my son?
“I’m not sure, baby,” I settled on.
“He’ll be back.”
“You sound pretty sure about that,” Joanna said.
“‘Cause he told me so.”
I wished that were true.
After lunch, I waited outside the restaurant, vaguely scanning the area while Joanna took Noah to the restroom.
Even though I’d lived in London my whole life, I didn’t really know my way around as much as a true Londoner—or tourist—so it was no surprise I only just realised we were one street away from Jake’s photography exhibit.
It felt like the universe trying to tell me something.
“Would you come somewhere with me?” I asked the second Joanna joined me outside, Noah tugging on her hand. “There’s something I think you should see.”
“Of course, darling.”
Five minutes later, we stepped into the industrial art space Jake had shown me all those months before.
“What it is you wanted to show me?” Joanna wondered.
“These are Jake’s photographs.”
Her head turned so quickly I thought she might have whiplash. “My Jacob?”
“That’s right.”
Joanna gazed around the room in awe. After a few moments taking it in, she drifted around slowly, her footsteps a sharp echo on the concrete floor.
“How long have these been here?”
“I don’t know exactly, but he first showed me on Mother’s Day.”
“Why didn’t he tell us?” I was silent long enough for Joanna to look at me. “Ellie?”
“I don’t want to overstep.”
“Tell me.” She clasped my hand and squeezed, insisting. “Please.”
“It doesn’t feel like my place to say. But I thought you should see this.
It’s strange, when I first met Jake I always thought he was so self-assured and in many ways he is, but there’s also an insecurity there.
Maybe that’s what held him back from telling you.
But I think everyone should know how talented he is, and when I realised where we were, I knew it was the perfect chance to show you. Maybe the only chance.”
“Oh my,” Joanna breathed out. “You love my son too.”
“I’m trying not to,” I admitted, giving voice to something shovelled so deep inside.
“But why?”
“Because he’s not the kind of man who likes to stay.”
Joanna tipped her head to one side, her gaze so tender I almost couldn’t stand it.
“Then give him a reason to.”
There was a postcard on our doormat when we arrived home from lunch.
My pulse escalated the second I recognised the snapshots of New York City on one side, but the rhythm lost all control the moment I saw the name above the address.
I choked up a bit, clutching it to my chest, letting the gesture sink in.
He remembered.
“Noah,” I called out. “Look what you got. It’s addressed to you. Your first ever post!”
“I got post?” Noah boomed, bouncing and pawing at me, eager to see.
I crouched and showed him the postcard. The back was crammed full of tiny writing where Jake had struggled to fit everything he had to say.
“Should we read it together?”
“Yes, please! Read it!”
“Dear Noah,” we said out loud, and Noah followed the words with one chubby little finger.
Greetings from New York!
Did you know they don’t have the Royal Mail in the USA? They have the USPS! Their post boxes are blue too! I thought that was pretty cool and it made me think of you.
I haven’t done much sightseeing so far, just hung out with my friend Christian.
Today, I’m off to Central Park to explore and take some photos. It’s so big there’s even a Zoo inside! I’ll wave to the monkeys just for you. I know how much you love them, so I promise to say hello.
Say hi to your mum for me. I can’t wait to see you both soon.
Love Jake x
“Mummy, can you read it again, please?”
I read the postcard out loud three more times at Noah’s insistence, watching the happiness shine through his eyes—the delight at being remembered and considered. The effort and thoughtfulness behind the gesture was nothing new. This was who Jake was as a person.
The warmth of that settled over me.
Even if this was all we would ever be from here on out, a handful of postcards throughout the year, the joy on my son’s face would be worth the ache of missing him.