~*~
The next day I woke with a start and realised that my mobile was shrilly ringing somewhere nearby. Struggling to get my bearings, I raised my head and realised that I was in Simone's room and that my best friend was fast asleep in the bed beside me. Knowing that she wouldn't be able to sleep through too much more of my phone's high pitched song, I looked around the room for my mobile and finally spotted it buzzing and jittering on top of her chest of drawers. I launched myself at it, unfortunately forgetting that I was still under the bedclothes, and managed to bind myself tightly in Simone's sheets as I did so.
I landed with a heavy thud on the floor, the jolt from my fall knocking my mobile off the chest of drawers and causing it to fall into my lap. Picking it up and hoping that after all my effort it wouldn't just ring out I flipped it open and pressed it against my ear.
"Hello?" I gasped and was relieved to hear Matt's voice on the other end say,
"Took you long enough."
I leant back against the chest of drawers and caught my breath. "I didn't realise when you said you'd call me in the morning that you meant at the crack of sodding dawn," I said with feigned grumpiness, after all he is my brother and the non-niceties have to be observed. "How's Jack?"
I heard Matt give a big sigh and then he said quietly, "Not great," in such an understated way that I felt my heart squeeze with a little clutch of pain.
"I'm on my way," I said quickly, flipping shut my phone before I even heard Matt's reply.
It was as I was struggling to stand up that I realised that my ever so graceful fall had pulled all the blankets off Simone as well and that she was propped up on her elbows blinking sleepily at me.
"Sorry," I said guiltily, pulling at the sheets and managing to free myself from the cocoon. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"She's cool," she yawned, "I would've been more cross if you'd snuck out and not told me how Jack is."
I pulled a face to show that the answer wasn't a good one and she nodded understandingly.
Simone was such a sweetie, she hadn't even asked any questions when I had shown up the day before and asked if I could stay the night, she had simply given me a hug and let me in. She had then proceeded to spend all of her Sunday thinking of ways to distract me from what Jack and Matt were doing and had been so ingenious in her plans that she had partly succeeded.
I gave her back her covers and then proceeded to get dressed in double quick time. Simone walked with me to her front door and I was just about to say goodbye when the door suddenly opened and Alex appeared in the doorway, framed by early morning light. I looked at Simone in surprise and saw that she, like me, was hoping that this didn't mean Alex had been out all night doing goodness knows what.
He didn't look surprised to see us, indeed it seemed he had been counting on us being there as he thrust his hand out towards me and said, "Here." In his cupped hand I saw two gumnuts nestled in his palm and I looked at him questioningly as I scooped them out.
"What-?" I began to ask but he brushed past me without saying anything else and moments later the door to the guest room slammed shut as he went inside.
I looked to Simone for an explanation and was surprised to see that her grey eyes were becoming wet with tears. "He wants you to put them on the graves," she said miserably, gesturing towards the gumnuts in my hand.
For a moment I was thrown but then I released a soft, "Oh," of understanding as a memory of a 9 year old Alex marching around with the 7 year old twins trotting along in his wake floated to the forefront of my brain. I felt a little lump rise in my throat as I remembered how inseparable the three of them had been ever since they had met when Alex, at age 6, had moved with his family to Bridunna and declared himself the leader of their little gang.
"Don't you remember how they used to cut up our gumboots to make slingshots?" Simone asked with a tremulous smile. "We never had any footwear for wet weather and every time we went outside we had to be wary of being hit by gumnuts. Alex taught the twins to be such good shots."
The corners of my mouth lifted up into a small, sad smile as I thought about those days.
"I saw him put gumnuts on their graves that first year," Simone continued. "He must have kept on doing it although I've never seen him after that first time."
We both blinked back tears at the image of bad boy Alex sneaking annually to the gravesides of his two childhood friends to secretly mourn them.
I couldn't spend too much time ruminating on Alex's sadness as Matt and Jack's were still too much at the forefront of my mind to allow room for the fifteen year old's as well, but as I slipped the gumnuts into my pocket, I knew that I would think about him later. Grabbing my bag I gave Simone a quick hug and promised to call her the next day to let her know how things had gone before hurrying down the steps and across the street to my car.
As frantic as I was to get back to my boys I drove from Simone's to the flat as safely as I knew how, well beneath the speed limit and with extra special care on the corners; the knowledge that a car crash had led us all to where we were niggling at the back of my mind.
As I pulled into the car park I saw Matt walk out of the building and head towards his car with a big bag. I parked crookedly but didn't bother to correct it, instead throwing open the door and hurrying over to my brother.
"Jack says he isn't coming back to Bridunna," Matt said without preamble as I reached his side.
"What?" I asked, sure I couldn't have heard him right. "He doesn't want to visit the graves, or his father, or anything?"
"Nope." Matt shrugged. "He's been like this ever since we came to uni, I've had to basically drag him into the car the last couple of years, but this year he's really determined not to go." He turned and slammed shut the boot of his car before adding, "So, your turn."
"My turn?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said with a sigh, "that I’ve seen you two become closer this year and so maybe you have a chance convincing him, hell, I've never seen him refuse you anything."
How right you are! I thought to myself grimly, my mouth drying up at the realisation that Matt had noticed something though perhaps not as much as he should have. Strangely enough, however, my mind almost immediately moved on, I didn't really care at that moment if Matt was close to the truth about me and Jack, I just wanted to make sure that Jack was OK.
"Fine, I'll give it a shot," I said, glancing up at our flat's windows and starting to make a move towards the building before being stopped by Matt's voice gently saying,
"Hey."
I turned back and Matt gave me a quick one armed hug, pulling me in against his side and holding me for a moment. It was over as quickly as it had begun, Matt pulled away without another word and gave me a little shove towards our building, but I knew what he had meant by the hug. It was an apology for the day before, a reassurance that whatever else was going on he was always there for me and an expression of other cheesy things that he would never, ever put into words.
I flew up the steps to the third floor and let myself into the flat, immediately wrinkling up my nose at the stale stench of alcohol, cigarette smoke and other grotty 'wild night' smells that I was glad I couldn't identify. Picking my way through the furniture, and noting that one of the beanbags had somehow ended up on top of the wardrobe, I made my way over to the kitchen and poured a huge glass of water (adding a splash of orange juice to aid Jack's hydration) and grabbed the paracetamol pack, thinking as I did so of the many times I had done this for Matt.
Thus armed with my hangover artillery, I went to Jack's door and knocked softly upon it. There was no reply so, after a moment, I turned the knob and entered the room. The curtains were drawn and all was in darkness although I could just make out the lump on the bed that was Jack. I put the water and paracetamol down on the bedside table and went over to open the curtains just a crack, the little bit of light revealing the utter disarray his room was in. It looked as if Jack had stumbled into the room, knocked over the lamp on hi
s desk (consequently breaking the glass shade and light bulb) before staggering into the bookshelf and knocking a wave of books down onto the floor. In amongst this mess were his clothes from yesterday, all of which looked stained and rumpled.
All in all it was a pigsty and it smelt pretty gross too.
"Oh Jack," I sighed, picking my way over to the bed and sitting down on the edge, "What did you do to yourself last night?"
There was no reply from the mound so I reached for the water and rattled the paracetamol packet above where I supposed his head was. I was rewarded by a groan and then his face, crinkled and red, emerged from under the covers. He looked at me blearily through watery and bloodshot eyes and then shook his head a fraction.
"No," he said flatly.
"No?" I repeated in astonishment. "What, you fancy being a martyr to the hangover? Don't be a moron, drink up."
He pushed my hand holding the water away and heaved himself up into a sitting position, the covers falling away and revealing that his chest was bare. I saw the hickey I had given him, faded but still definitely there, on his shoulder and then, I felt my chest tighten in dismay, my eyes fell on the other scratches upon his shoulders. Scratches that I had definitely not put there, scratches which he could only have obtained last night…
I tore my eyes away from his chest and looked again at his face from which the red was fading leaving him a grey/green colour, almost a khaki. He looked a real mess, but he was my Jack and my heart went out to him at the sight of him looking so despondent and ill. I was about to reach out and wrap my arms around him when he ruined the moment somewhat by running a hand through his somewhat greasy hair and saying crossly, "I know Matt’s sent you in here to convince me to get up and go with you to Bridunna, but I've told him and now I'm telling you, it isn't going to happen. So just forget it."
Deciding to fight that particular battle later I refrained from answering and instead proffered the water and paracetamol again. He looked at me steadily, letting me know that he wasn't going to drop the subject, but he did take two tablets and swallowed the water in three gulps. When he had finished, I stood up and held my hand out for the glass, preparing to go and get him some more but he took hold of my wrist and pulled me back down onto the bed.
"Look," he croaked, "Matt will be waiting down in the car park so let's get this over with now. I'm not going to Bridunna today and the sooner the two of you realise and accept this the sooner you can start the trip."
I rolled my eyes and shook my head in annoyance. "Oh get real Jack," I said in exasperation, "You know as well as I do that there’s no way that Matt and I are going home without you."
He shrugged and then winced as if that movement had jerked his head a little too much in the fragile condition he was in. "You have to," he said simply, his voice strengthening, "your parents will want to see you."
"Yeah and it's not as if Mum would kill us or anything if we turned up without you," I said sarcastically. "This trip isn't for me and Matt, Jack, it's for you, we want to help you." As soon as the last words were out of my mouth I wanted to shove them back in as I knew immediately that I had used the wrong tactic.
His expression darkened with anger and he snapped, "Well save your help for those who need it."
Damn him for his pigheaded independence!
I thought for a moment of retreating and using a soft approach, but since I never really had practice using that strategy, I decided to go with my tried and true method of direct attack.
"You do need it; in fact I can't think of anyone else right now who needs to go to Bridunna quite as much as you do," I said matter-of-factly. "What about your family? Don't you want to, I don't know, pay your respects or whatever?"
"They're dead," he stated flatly and I found myself clutching at his hand in response to the sadness in his voice he was trying so desperately to hide, "so I doubt they'll notice whether I'm respecting them or not."
"Fine," I said more soothingly, "maybe it won't make much difference to the twins or your mum, but what about you…and" I suddenly remembered that he did actually have a living relation, "what about your father? I'm sure that he….well he must…" I trailed off not able to say with any surety whether his father would give two hoots whether Jack was there or not. I continued to struggle with finding words which wouldn't sound too hollow and Jack gave a wry smile.
"Don't strain yourself trying to think of something nice to say about my father, you could be here for a long time and there is no guarantee there even is anything." He looked past me to his jumbled bookcase and stared at it so intently that I wondered whether he was attempting to set it on fire with the power of his mind.
"I'm sorry that you're trying to pretend that going home doesn't matter to you," I said quietly after a moment, " because I know that it does." I saw him open his mouth to object and so ploughed on, "And just think for a moment, if you get this scholarship today will be the last 20th September you'll be able to have at home for a few years."
"I appreciate how much effort you're putting into this, Tally," he said gently, pulling his hand away from mine, "but the answer is still no."
I tugged in frustration on my ponytail and then gave him a poke in the chest (still avoiding thinking about the appearance of the scratches). "Look, big guns now," I said frankly, "I honestly think that if you don't go you'll regret it later on."
Jack sighed and turned his face away from me, depriving me even of the ability to read his expression. "Let me worry about my regrets, it's not your job," he said coldly. "I'm a big boy I can make my own decisions and deal with the consequences myself."
"Of course you can!" I howled in exasperation, getting up onto my knees and tugging at his shoulder, trying to make him turn back to me. "But don't you understand that Matt and I aren't just going to stand by as you make what we see as a huge mistake? You would do whatever you could to help the two of us, wouldn't you? Well, why won't you let us help you? You are so frustrating!"
"You know I would do whatever I could to help any of the Davenports but this is different," he insisted.
I released him and sat back, the wind taken out of me. "No it isn't," I said flatly, "so don't pretend it is."
There was a very long, very weighted, pause during which a scrap of electric blue lace in amongst Jack's clothes caught my eye and, on further inspection, I realised that it was a bra. I felt as if I had been hit in the stomach by a wrecking ball, but after a couple of deep gulps of air, I bravely pushed the feeling aside. I had promised myself that I wouldn't get upset at evidence that Jack had slept with someone else on the 19th and I was determined to stick to my resolve.
Still, the discovery did aid my next move as I stood up off the bed and turned to look down at him, feeling at once very sad and very angry. "I hate that you don't trust us to help you," I said, calling all the emotions I was feeling up into my voice and giving him the full brunt of it, "but I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do." I walked to the door, but then looked back, "Oh and I meant it when I said that we're not going to Bridunna without you so just bear in mind that you will be the one to explain to mum why we didn't turn up this weekend."
With that final, threatening sentence hanging in the air, I left his room, closing the door firmly. Once outside in the dishevelled main room I leant back against the door and paused for a moment, listening intently.
A couple of seconds passed and then I heard the rustle of bedclothes as Jack got out of bed and then the sound of drawers opening and closing as he began to pack what he needed for Bridunna. With a satisfied and relieved smile I turned towards my bedroom to do the same.