Chapter Twenty-Six
That evening, Erin was already in her pyjamas when Jack came home.
She’d been watching the clock, memories of those dreadful teenage years replaying in her mind.
She knew that was ridiculous now he was a grown man who’d put his life back on track years ago, and survived on his own for three years in Birmingham, but did a mother ever stop worrying when their chick was out after dark?
In some ways, it’d been easier when he was at university, because she had no idea if he was in or out, so she could con her brain into believing he was safely tucked up in bed when she was trying to sleep herself.
She popped her head out of her bedroom door and greeted him.
‘Hello, love. Been anywhere nice?’ She’d been planning to tell him about her new determination to try to save The Bookmark, but she could tell by the looseness of his limbs that this wasn’t the best time to have a sensible conversation about finances.
He hung his jacket on a hook in the hall and swaggered towards her.
‘Just out and about securing paid work, like the legend I am,’ he said.
He’d clearly had a drink or two. He pointed to himself with both hands.
‘You are now looking at the newest employee of The Crown, Blackheath’s finest hostelry. ’
‘Well done,’ she said, making sure her voice and expression stayed bright. Despite the necessity, she didn’t want Jack to work at The Crown. She wanted him to be at The Bookmark with her. ‘You don’t mess about.’
‘You know me, Mother, a go-getter to the core.’ He laughed, because they both knew that wasn’t true.
He was an overthinker like her and that often stopped him from acting.
‘To be fair, they’ve lost someone because he forgot to renew his work visa, so he had to go back to Oz, so the fact I’d worked there before and could start immediately made me a very attractive proposition.
Right time, right place. Boom.’ He pulled his fist into his middle, wobbling as he did so.
‘I’m very proud of you. I take it you celebrated the win with a few pints?’
‘It was important to test the wares, so I know what I’ll be selling,’ he said, grinning.
‘It was the responsible thing to do.’ He peeled one trainer off with the toe of the other foot.
It thudded as it hit the skirting board.
‘I’m quite looking forward to being back there.
It will be like being at sixth form again, only with more facial hair and student debt.
’ He sighed as he removed his other shoe.
‘At least the wages are so bad I won’t have to pay any of that back for the foreseeable. Every cloud.’
‘Every cloud,’ she repeated, wanly. Erin was one of the last cohort to get an entirely free university education, and she really felt for young people today, graduating with tens of thousands of pounds of debt around their necks before they earned a penny.
How she envied parents who could afford to pay for their children’s education.
She’d failed in that respect, and now Jack was back working at the same place he had been before his degree because she couldn’t manage to employ him. The guilt threatened to overwhelm her.
‘What’s up?’ He walked towards her, concern etched on his face.
She didn’t want to burden him with her guilt, so she scrabbled around for something to explain her low mood.
‘I’m worried about Riley.’ It wasn’t a lie.
She’d been torturing herself about whether to disclose her suspicions to her friend.
‘I think I saw Chegs and another girl acting … inappropriately.’
‘Inappropriately how?’ He passed her and wandered into the kitchen.
Erin followed and leaned on the door frame, watching as Jack fed two slices of bread into the toaster.
It really was as if they’d gone back in time.
This was his routine when he came in from a night out before he went to uni.
He was the eldest in his school year, turning eighteen at the start of his last year of A levels, so, as long as she was convinced he wasn’t doing drugs again, she didn’t complain about him going out drinking with his friends, especially when he got the job serving behind the bar at The Crown.
But she couldn’t stop herself from watching out for signs he was drinking too much, and was always relieved to hear his key in the lock, and to smell the toasting bread that meant he was safely home.
‘Chegs and that Teagan, the one who’s moved in with him, seemed to be flirting when they were at the café earlier, and when they left, she put her hand in the back pocket of his jeans. ’
‘Whoa, that’s some familiar move. What did Riley say?’ He searched in the cupboard, found a jar of Marmite, trying and failing to open the lid.
Erin took it from him and ran the cap under the warm tap until it unstuck. ‘I don’t think she saw.’ She handed the open jar back to Jack.
‘Did you tell her?’ The toast popped up and he picked it out, then flung it on a plate, shaking the heat from his fingers.
He plunged a knife into the jar and hooked out a gloopy black mass before spreading it on the bread.
Erin wanted to remind him to go easy because of the salt, but she managed to stop herself.
‘I didn’t know what to say.’ She’d agonised about telling Riley from the moment it happened, but hadn’t come to a decision by the time they closed up, so came home feeling like she was carrying a hand grenade in her tote bag along with the soiled tea towels.
‘Do you think I should have said something?’
Jack took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. He wiped crumbs from his moustache. ‘I think I’d want to know. Wouldn’t you?’
Erin pondered the question. When Andrew left, some of her friends speculatated about whether he was seeing someone else.
In some ways, she’d hoped he was. At least then there’d be a reason beyond her and her son being so unworthy of love that he would rather live without them.
If he’d fallen in love with someone so deeply he couldn’t bear to be without them, then it would feel like a different kind of tragedy, one there was at least a point to.
But she’d never found out exactly why Andrew left.
All he would say was that he didn’t want the life mapped out for him.
She hadn’t discovered an affair, and he hadn’t begun another relationship soon after leaving them, as far as she was aware.
If he had cheated on her, she was pretty sure she would have preferred to know. ‘I think I would.’
‘Then, I suppose you should tell her.’ He took another bite. ‘That Chegs is a dickhead. She’s way too good for him.’
‘She is,’ said Erin, the contents of her stomach curdling at the thought of breaking her young friend’s heart. ‘You really think I should tell her?’
‘You wouldn’t want her to find out further down the line, then work out you knew all along. Rip the plaster off. She’ll probably thank you for it in the long run.’
He was right. Of course he was. But there was no guarantee Riley would thank her for it. There were so many ways this could play out. This felt like another pressure on top of her worry about the café. Why, oh why, did every decision come with such high risks?