Laughter glitters down the hallway, drifting in from the party in the garden. He glances up in the direction of the noise and scowls, then takes my hand and pulls me into the dining room. When the door closes behind him, it’s just the two of us. For a while, I can’t speak, too afraid that if I do, I’ll cry again. Jack sits opposite me, leaning forward, eager to help, but not knowing how.
After a few deep breaths, I tell him everything. He listens, face carefully blank, but his eyes betray him. They’re blue and remind me of Icelandic oceans, and right now, anger swirls in their depths. Jack is nothing if not fiercely protective. He thrusts his fingers back through his hair. ‘What the fuck do they know? Jesus Christ, at least you’re trying for something. Getting published isn’t as easy as marrying rich.’
‘I shouldn’t have told you,’ I say, feeling guilty for riling him.
‘They’re just jealous.’
‘That’s what people tell themselves to feel better. What do Ruby or Ada have to be jealous of?’
‘You’re talented, and brave, and ambitious. You’re everything they’re not—’
‘Jack …’
‘I’m serious.’ He takes my hands in his; his skin is warm, and his long fingers make me think of tree roots in earth. They were hands which held my hair back after too many tequilas, broke Chris Flynn’s nose when he called me ‘frigid’ because I wouldn’t put out, and built my bookshelf after I moved back to Crosshaven and into my little one-bedroom house. ‘Ruby’s a cheap copy of Ada, and the only thing going on in her life is pregnancy. She’s going to spend the next few months swelling up like a balloon and complaining about her fat ankles until Tim—’
‘Tom,’ I correct.
‘Tom, gets bored of it and starts fucking his PA.’
‘Jack,’ I scold, secretly delighted.
He smiles. ‘And Ada’s jealous because she left school at sixteen, bounced from one pointless job to another until she stumbled into the right place at the right time and met a guy with the right amount of cash in his account. And now what? She spends her days lunching with the girls, doing yoga and rearranging furniture.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘Sounds directionless.’
‘Well, at least we have that in common.’
He squeezes my hands. ‘You are not directionless. You know what you want and you’re going after it and fuck them if they can’t respect that. As for your parents … I love Martin and Meredith, but their whole lives have followed a traditional trajectory: job, house, marriage, kids. Boring if you ask me. Not you, though – you’re doing things your way and they don’t like it, but that’ll change when they walk into that bookshop and see your name on the shelf.’
I love the way he sees me: talented, ambitious and brave. Like I can do anything. Like I should do anything. Sometimes I think Ada needs a Jack in her life.
‘Thanks,’ I whisper.
‘It’s true,’ he states matter-of-factly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. I smile because he’s always been so sure of himself.
‘It’s been a long day,’ I say, exhausted. ‘I just want my bed.’
‘Sure. Let me drop the champagne with your sister and we can go.’
‘No, stay. I’ll get a taxi,’ I lie, not wanting him to know I plan on walking home because then he’ll feel obligated to give me a lift.
‘Nah, I’m not in the party mood anyway. Come on.’ He gets to his feet and holds out his hand. I take it.
‘Where’s your mum – I thought she was coming?’
‘Not tonight.’
‘Mum will be disappointed.’ She and Kathryn have been best friends since they were children. They’re so close, it’s hard to believe Kathryn’s husband Jeffrey ever convinced her to move to America for all those years, just before Jack was born.
‘She isn’t well. Migraine. I was late because we couldn’t find her pills.’
She’s been getting migraines for thirteen years, ever since Jeffrey died. I shiver the way I always do when I think of Jack’s father, of the smell that hit us like a concrete block as we walked into their house on our return from Wisteria, carrying lilos and beach bags, sand still between our toes.
‘Just give me five minutes and I’ll take you back,’ says Jack.
‘Can I wait in the car?’
He gives me a look. ‘Don’t be a coward. Go say goodbye to them.’