Chapter 51 Jackson
Jackson
He’d never heard a silence so loud. A minute ticked by as if he hadn’t just had his legs taken out from underneath him yet again. Jackson’s head spun. “Dad? Hazel—”
“I think we definitely need refreshments for Round Two, if that’s what we’re doing.” When Hazel pushed to her feet, Leah grasped her fingers and they disappeared into the kitchen together.
Deflating like a shredded inner tube, his dad cradled his head in his hands, his mother beside him murmuring something low and comforting which Jackson didn’t catch.
Handyman Stan rose to his feet, gave an enormous stretch, and began to wash his paws.
Jackson fought for something to say. So many secrets kept and grudges held. What a fucking mare’s nest.
Leah and Hazel produced a small pot of tea and a coffee press, alongside a plate filled with cookies. Jackson reached gratefully for the mug Leah held out to him. He wanted to touch her fingers but they slid away.
“I think we’ve all had enough of half-truths and evasions,” Hazel began immediately.
“Since it’s come to light now, it’s best to be clear.
” She took a steadying breath. “On the night of Esther’s parents’ party, it was me Dickie followed and me he assaulted.
I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.
” Jackson watched Leah slip her hand into Hazel’s and squeeze.
“It was a terrible scandal. Esther spoke up loudly and furiously about what had happened. Dickie’s family were outraged at the slur.
He told everyone it had been consensual.
It was a bloodbath. When I found out I was pregnant, Esther and Atherton offered to bring up the baby.
I was a mess and, however much I tried, I couldn’t uncover the maternal feelings I knew I should have.
She, on the other hand, desperately wanted to get married and settle down.
Rightly or wrongly, we all came to a decision. ”
Alistair made a strangled noise which he drowned in another mouthful of coffee.
“Esther and Atherton loved your father without limits. They gave him the best childhood they could and I returned to my career.” When Hazel swung her gaze to his dad, her heart was in her eyes, her face bare of all her customary composure.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be a mother to you in the way you deserved but no one wanted you more than your parents.
It was my fault they didn’t tell you the truth.
I begged them not to and it was the biggest mistake of my life. ”
His dad’s eyes were chips of ice. “You all lied to me. I had to find out about my birth from a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear.”
Jackson sifted through the labyrinth of jarring new facts and muddled old memories, his understanding of his family turned on its head. “So that’s why we stopped seeing them.”
When his father just stared at the mug in his hands, his mother stepped in. “It caused a massive rift. Once he knew the truth, your dad doubted everything he’d ever been told.”
Hazel flinched. “We should never have kept it from you—I made the wrong call. I wanted to protect you from knowing how it happened. I thought I was saving you from something awful but I made it so much worse.”
Her eyes were wet, her capable hands pressed tightly together. Jackson watched a tear slide over Leah’s cheekbone, saw her raise a shoulder to wipe it onto her hoodie as she knelt at the old lady’s feet.
“It explains so much.” He crossed to the living room window and gazed out at the front yard without seeing it. “Why we lost touch with Esther and Atherton. Why you hate the Addlestone-Blacks. Even why you were so desperate for Dom or me to follow you into the business.”
“You’re my family,” Alistair mumbled.
“I am.” Jackson closed his eyes. “You’d have thought you might have treated me better.”
Hazel stood up slowly and moved to his side.
She slid a tentative arm around his waist; it felt like a bracing anchor in a storm.
“Esther loved you so much. She was a far better mother and grandmother than I could have been in a thousand years.” She looked battered and drained, the bruised shadows of past burdens heavy beneath her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” The reality of what had happened to this wonderful, sparky woman was suddenly so much more important than all the other hurt feelings in the room. “I’m just glad I know now.”
A small hand pushed into his. Jackson would have recognized it if he was blindfolded. Leah’s touch was his lodestone.
He turned to face his parents. “I think we all need a bit of space. A lot’s been said this weekend. We need time to get our heads around it. We can talk again during the week.”
His dad opened his mouth.
“My resignation stands. I’ll see out my notice period and we’ll decide what to do about the loan once you’ve spoken to Martinez.
” Jackson understood his father better now but it didn’t undo the shit he’d put him through.
“I’m ready to move on. I’m just not willing to give my life and soul to Hale Evolution anymore. ”
A hush welled through Amity Court like the backwash of a gentle wave.
Even Handyman Stan had sauntered out on silent paws, with a last enigmatic look over his inky shoulder.
Jackson closed his eyes, resting his head against the inside of the front door.
He was hollowed out. And the toughest part was still to come.
“Are you OK?”
He turned to find Leah fidgeting in the living room doorway, the sleeves of her hoodie leaving only her fingertips exposed, untidy bangs masking her expression.
“Yeah,” he said, when the pause had strung out from brittle to intolerable. “I will be.”
“Good.”
“I bet that little drama did wonders for your head.”
“I can’t imagine yours is feeling much better, even without a hangover.” She reached up to twist a small hoop in one ear.
“Leah—”
“I think I’ve found somewhere I can move to. Someone in Florence’s salon has a room to rent in town. She says it’s available immediately, so I can get packed up and go. I’ll only have to pop back now and then if I need any of Esther’s notes. Since I’m nearly finished, it shouldn’t take long.”
“No.”
Leah’s eyes shied away as hurt flooded her face. Strain tightened her words when she spoke again. “I promise I won’t come back unless it’s absolutely vital. I can make sure you’re not here if you’d prefer.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Jackson stepped away from the door. He was messing this up already. “No, I don’t want you to go. No, you’re not moving out. No to renting someone else’s room. No to it all.”
Leah’s lips parted. “I don’t understand.”
Jackson’s limbs were dull and heavy with the fear of losing her. “It’s simple. I want you to stay.”
“I don’t believe you.” Guarded confusion tugged at her eyebrows.
There was a brief standoff. Neither of them moved. His thoughts raced. Inspiration, when it came, finally freed his muscles and set his heart somersaulting.
“Come with me.” Jackson grabbed Leah’s hand. He dragged her toward the stairs.
“What—!” She didn’t finish the protest as he towed her behind him, forcing her to keep up with his longer stride. They reached the landing and he pulled her onward, heading for the stairs to the third floor. Leah tried to put on the brakes. “No . . . Wait—this isn’t the way to sort this out!”
“It’s exactly the way,” Jackson promised grimly as he shoved open the door of his room and hauled her toward the bed. “Get on.”
“You need to work on your seduction technique!” She was defensive, deliciously ruffled, doubt and uncertainty in the rise and fall of her chest.
Jackson lifted her bodily and dropped her onto the covers.
“Jax! What the hell!”
“Where are we, Leah?” He knelt on the bed, hands clenched, trying to pretend his fingers weren’t tingling with the need to touch her again.
“We’re in your bedroom and I don’t know what you—”
“Where are we, specifically?”
“We’re on your bed, you lunatic.” She huffed a lock of hair out of her eyes.
“Leah—” Jackson struggled to keep his voice steady, although his nerves were rattling like tin cans behind a wedding car. “Are we, or are we not, on the Bed of Truth?”
She drew in a sharp breath. The air between them electrified. Beyond the window, a light breeze set the leaves in the beech tree swaying and one of the old rainwater spouts creaked against the outside wall.
“Yes, Jackson,” Leah said finally. She pushed herself upright, fingers curling into the folds of the comforter. “We are on the Bed of Truth.”
A glimmer of something that looked a little like hope smoldered in her eyes.