Page 33 of Into These Eyes
“You’re not in your room?”
“Nope. Just hanging with some of the other cadets at the pub. Why?”
“Are they good friends?” I ask, remembering Gavin’s words about dealing with this alone.
“Sure. Jamie, what’s going on?” Her light tone has taken on an edge. We know each other too well.
I’d love nothing more than to say I’ll speak to her later, but I don’t want her to get the news while she’s sitting in her room alone. Better she’s surrounded by friends. At least I can give her something I don’t have.
“There’s no easy way to say this, Ank. I wish to God I didn’t have to do it over the phone.”
“It’s Dad, isn’t it? He’s gone?”
“Yeah,” I choke.
She’s silent for a long moment, the only noises reaching my ear are those of the other cadets. Happy people enjoying their lives.
“You okay?” she finally asks.
I blink back the threatening tears. “I’m supposed to be asking you that.”
“Well,” she says carefully, “it’s not exactly a shock, is it? Were you there for him? At the end?”
“I was … he … he didn’t die alone.” How do I tell her that’s not what has my throat constricting? That he may be gone, but he’s left behind a fucked-up mess?
More silence for a long moment, then she says, “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Didn’t I?” Does she know I’m hiding something?
“I asked if you were okay.”
Swallowing, I plaster a smile on my face, knowing she can’t see it, but hoping she can hear it. “Of course. Like you said, we’ve known this was coming. I suppose it’s a bit of a surprise that it’s actually happened.”
“Should I come home?”
I really should tell heryes. One benefit of family is that we’re there for each other. Right? Except when you’re a liar who killed your wife. Fuck. Now that I have her on the phone, I realise I can’t tell her what he did until she’s here with me. This isn’t news you blurt out over the phone. He didn’t just kill my mother, he killed hers too.
“No,” I say, “No, don’t do that. I’m fine. I’ve got work and everything that comes with a death to sort out.”
“He didn’t want a funeral, Jamie. You remember that, right?”
The reality of why he’d been adamant about that sinks in. How could a man who killed his wife and lied to his children about it for sixteen years expect anyone to gather to mourn his loss?
“There are other things that need to be dealt with,” I tell my sister. “No point in you being here. I’ll barely see you anyway. Plus, there’s the shit timing. You’ve only got a few more weeks until you graduate.”
“Yeah, almost done. It’d really fuck everything up if I had to leave now, but if you need me, I’ll be there.”
“I’ll send you straight back if you turn up. Graduate, Ank. Don’t let him take that away from you. It’s not like he was your favourite person in the world.”
Another long silence.
Finally, she says, “As long as you’re sure. Just ring if you need me. I’m only a couple of hours away. I mean it, Jamie.”
“Thanks, but like I said, I’m fine. More than anything, I want you to be happy. Be with your friends, Ank. That’s what’ll make me feel better.”
“Yeah … I will.”
“I love you.”
