Page 20 of Cupcakes and Kisses in Micklewick Bay

The mere memory of the desperation in his voice still had the power to make Jasmine’s stomach churn. She closed her eyes, the image of him jumping up and flinging his arms around her mum and burying his head into her neck filling her mind along with the ensuing conversation:

‘Please,please, Auntie Heather. I promise I’ll be good. Please let me live with you. You always make me feel so happy when I’m here. And everyone always thinks I’m Jingilby and Jonathan’s brother cos we’ve got nearly the same colour hair and we’ve all got loads of freckles. You and Uncle Steve could adopt me. You could be my new mum and dad.’

‘Ooh, sweetheart.’ Heather had wrapped her arms around him, her bottom lip quivering as she’d blinked back tears. ‘I wish it was as?—’

‘Please, Mum,pleasecan Max live here?’ Jasmine had asked, suddenly brightening and taking up her friend’s plight. ‘He can share with Jonathan.’ She’d thought it was the perfect solution since Max had idolised her brother who was two years their senior and they were as mad on football as one another.

Her mum had remained noncommittal, saying they’d have to contact his grandad who lived over Harrogate way before any decisions were made.

They’d met Jimmy Grainger a few times and Jasmine’s parents had always found him pleasant. Jasmine had overheard them discussing him and Bazza after one of Jimmy’s visits, wondering how on earth such a decent man could have produced a wastrel, layabout of a son, her dad declaring Bazza to be a “right bad apple, if ever there was one”.

Heather had managed to track down Jimmy Grainger’s phone number and brought him up to speed with the situation regarding his son and grandson. Jimmy had been shocked to hear that things had got so bad that his son had ended up in prison and had gone on to explain how Barry, to give Bazza his proper name, had gone off the rails once he’d met Max’s mum, Martina, severing all ties with his parents. His mother had gone to her grave believing her son hated her.

They ended the phone call agreeing that Max should stay at the Ingilby’s overnight and Jimmy would travel from his home in Harrogate the following day.

True to his word, Jimmy arrived just after eleven o’clock that Sunday morning, with Max eyeing him warily; being very young the last time he’d seen his grandfather, he’d had little recollection of him.

Jimmy had spoken to his grandson kindly, asking him questions about the things he liked, such as his favourite food – Auntie Heather’s Sunday dinners and Jingilby’s double-chocolate cookies – and if he was keen on sport. Max’s eyes had brightened on hearing his grandad was an avid football supporter.

Jimmy had listened as Steve and Heather had sung Max’s praises, telling him he was a bright kid, and keen to learn, that he just needed a bit of stability in his life for him to reach his full potential.

‘Well, I’m his grandad, and it’s time I stepped up to the plate. I need to make sure that potential doesn’t go to waste,’ Jimmy had said.

After lunch, Steve had accompanied him to number nine where they’d gathered Max’s pitifully small amount of belongings together and placed them in the boot of Jimmy’s car, while Heather stayed with the children.

Jasmine and Max had watched from the front window, her stomach curdling at the thought of her best friend being taken all the way to Harrogate. She’d never been there before and it felt like it was at the other side of the world.

With the car packed, Jimmy had declared it was time to leave. ‘Come on then, lad, it’s time we were off, then we can get you settled in your new home.’

New home!Panic had clawed at Jasmine’s insides, her eyes burning with tears.

Max had leapt to his feet and thrown himself at Heather, his eyes filling with a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. ‘Can’t I stay with you, Auntie Heather?’ he’d whispered, his voice wavering. ‘Please?’

‘Not right now, lovey,’ Heather had said, her voice choked. ‘You need to go with your grandad, but you’re welcome to come and visit us any time you like. Don’t ever forget that, little love.’

‘And you can play football with me and my mates,’ Jonathan had said when he’d come in from the back garden.

‘And we can come and see you in Harrogate.’ Steve had squeezed Max’s shoulder, injecting a bright tone to his voice that hadn’t been remotely convincing. ‘It’s a lovely spot.’ Jasmine had never seen her dad cry before, and had been startled to see him swipe tears from his cheeks. It appeared to act as a catalyst to her own tears and, like a dam bursting, they’d started streaming down her face.

She’d run over to her mum and Max, wrapping her arms around them both as she’d sobbed uncontrollably.

‘Come on, now.’ Heather’s voice had been thick with emotion. ‘Any more tears and your dad’s going to have to get a mop and bucket and swill this place out.’ She’d forced a smile as she began prising Max’s fingers from her.

‘Thank you both for everything.’ Jimmy’s face had been wreathed in concern. ‘We’ll keep in touch.’

‘Aye, you do that,’ Steve had said.

Jasmine and Max had stood looking at one another through puffy, bloodshot eyes. ‘You’ve been the best friend ever, Jingilby.’

‘So have you, Max.’ Jasmine’s voice had been no more than a whisper. Somehow, she’d managed to dredge up a smile.

In the next moment, his skinny arms had wrapped themselves around her, and he was practically squeezing the air from her lungs.

‘Thank you for sticking up for me,’ he’d said, releasing her and giving a snotty sniff.

‘S’okay.’ She’d barely been able to speak, her throat was so tight.

‘Bye,’ he’d said.

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