Page 99 of Vivacity
Pick up pick up pickup.
It goes through to voicemail—an automated one, because teenagers don’t know voicemail exists.Fuck. I slap the wheel with all my might, and the car jerks. I’m crawling out of my body. I’m so terrified, so overcome by this maelstrom of terror and fury, that it’s likelyI’llbe the one who ends up wrapped around a lamppost. I force myself to pull up onto the pavement with a noisy swerve so I can pick up my phone.
My best bet right now is a text. Of course he doesn’t want to pick up the phone to me. I’m the monster he’s taken such desperate measures to evade. Soph’s words are ringing in my ear, and honestly, I’m grateful for them, because I could cheerfully wring his neck. But I force myself to take a second, just one second, before I unleash my horror and fury onto a text message.
She’s right, as always. He’s terrified. He hates me. This isn’t Jamie. He doesn’t act out. If anything, he shoves it all down. Makes himself small. Disengages.
I’ve already fucked up to an unbearable level this evening. This is my only chance to redeem myself as a father.
With shaking hands, I type. Thank fuck for autocorrect.
I love you. You’re not in trouble. Promise. On my way x
I pull the Tesla app back up, throw the phone down, and swerve back onto the road, cutting a red light to bomb down Kensington Church Street with indecent haste. I’m doing almost forty. Jamie’s crawling along Queen’s Gate.
I can do this.
I tell Siri to call him again.
Nothing.
I’m so close. Thank fuck, the lights at the bottom of Queen’s Gate are green. I tear across the crossroads, and there he is, making his way down Onslow Gardens, a quiet residential street.
Oh Jesus Christ. Thank god. Thank god.
I beep my horn, and he speeds up a little. Shit. I lower my window. ‘Jamie! Jamie, stop!’
We’re approaching the Fulham Road. It’s now or never. I grit my teeth, put my foot down, and switch to the other side of the road, which is deserted. With a pull on the wheel that I hope I’ve calculated correctly, I swing left and brake hard so that I’m facing horizontally across the junction with the Fulham Road, cutting Jamie off. Through my passenger window, the Tesla comes to a emergency stop inches from my vehicle, which I suspect is thanks to the car’s auto-braking function and not to my son’s ability to anticipate my maverick stunt.
I did it.
Jesus fuckingChrist.
I grab my phone so I can unlock the Tesla and exit the Aston on shaky legs. Jamie’s face is white as a sheet, his eyes huge and terrified. I wrench open the driver’s door and squat down so I’m level with him.
‘Oh, thank god,’ I say before he has a chance to say anything. ‘Thank god.’ I wrap my hand around his neck and kiss the side of his head before I start gabbling. ‘You’re safe. You’re not in trouble, okay? You’re not in trouble. Every single thing that’s happened today has been my fault. All of it. And I’m so fucking sorry.’
He starts to cry: the big, noisy sobs of a child. Because that’s what he is. He may be a gangly six feet, but he’s still just a kid. A little boy who needs his dad and doesn’t understand why his dadcan’t fucking be there for him. He shudders something out that I don’t understand.
‘What, sweetheart?’ I reach across and unfasten his seatbelt. ‘What did you say?’
‘I scraped the hubcap. I got too close to the kerb. I’m really sorry.’
I sob out a laugh as I help him out of the car. ‘I don’t care. I don’t give a flying fuck about anything except for you. Not hubcaps, not PCs. You hear me?’ I haul him against me, hugging him so tightly the poor kid probably can’t breathe. But I’ll take my chances.
With my arms wrapped around him like a vice, I rock us side to side. ‘I love you so much. I’m so sorry about earlier. You were right. I was a psycho, and I’m so deeply ashamed of myself. You’re absolutely bloody perfect, and I love you, and I’m so sorry I don’t tell you enough. You’re the most important person in my life.’
‘I love you too.’ He lays his head on my shoulder, his skinny little body still wracked with sobs. ‘I was really scared.’
‘I know, mate. I know. I’m not surprised. But I’m here now.’ I release my grip a little so I can pull back and look him in the eye. ‘What do you say we get out of here?’
He glances over at the Aston, still blocking the junction. A bloke trying to turn into Onslow Gardens has got out of his car and is yellingwankerat me. I couldn’t give a flying fuck.
‘Will I need to drive the Tesla back?’
I honk out a real laugh, relief coursing over me in waves. ‘No way. Not on your life. I’ll park it here for the night. I’ll jog down and grab it tomorrow. Right now, we should go home and heat up some sausage rolls. And then whenever you’re feeling up to it, maybe tomorrow, we can do some triage on the PC and work out what replacement parts I need to order for you, okay? We’ll get it sorted, I promise.’
His face crumples at that, his chin wobbling. ‘Okay. Thanks, Dad.’
