Perfect Daughter (No Greater Courage) by Amanda Prowse

Author:Amanda Prowse [Prowse, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781784970321
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2015-07-01T23:00:00+00:00

20

Nineteen Years Earlier

Jacks sat in the front room of her mum and dad’s terraced house while her mum cried into her handkerchief and her dad nodded quietly by her side. She felt the walls pressing in on her; it was as if the air was being sucked out of the room. She thought she might suffocate.

‘And where’s the boy now?’ her dad asked gently as he calmly set aside his crossword and placed his pencil on the little dictionary that balanced on the arm of the sofa.

‘I don’t know. America, I think. Possibly Boston, but definitely America. I’m not sure…’

‘That doesn’t narrow it down much; it’s quite a big place. Bigger than Weston.’ Her dad tried to lighten the moment.

‘I know it’s bigger than Weston! Everywhere is bigger than Weston!’ Uncharacteristically, Jacks flared at her dad, who shrank from her jibe.

‘You’re a fool if you think you’ll ever see him again. I knew it! I said, didn’t I?’ Ida shook her head as she drew on her cigarette.

‘He doesn’t know, Mum! He’s not like that. It’s not his fault – I never got the chance to tell him and then his family had to leave in such a rush. I’m sure that if he did know, he’d be right here.’ And when he contacts me, I will tell him and he will come for me…

Ida tutted. ‘But he’s not right here, is he?’

Her mum’s question caused her hot tears to fall once again.

Ida turned to her husband. ‘I said, didn’t I? Find a nice local boy, someone who is good to his mum, a family man. But no one listens to me, they never do. I just wanted what was best for her, for her future. I want her to have the best life possible.’

‘We both only want what’s best for her, Ida.’

Her dad’s support and her mum’s words of kindness, despite her disappointment, only heightened Jacks’ distress. Now she felt guilty as well as everything else. More tears fell. Tears she thought would never stop, clogging her throat and filling her nose and mouth, a river of sadness that she just couldn’t stem.

Her dad patted her hand. Her lovely dad, always trying to make things better for her. For the first time she understood what real grief was – all previous little spikes of sadness seemed like mere rehearsals by comparison. Jacks closed her eyes, knowing she would never forget the moment, nor the scent in the room: her mum had been baking and the aroma of cinnamon and mixed spice was strong. Her nausea didn’t need much prompting.

‘What are you going to do?’ Ida asked from the chair in which she was curled, her cigarette extended between two fingers held high, her voice softer now.

Jacks shrugged. The details were sketchy, but she was certain of one thing. ‘I’m having this baby and that’s that.’

Later, Jacks lay on her little bed staring at the ceiling and thinking. Why had he gone without even saying goodbye? She pictured lying on

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