Page 24 of The Perfect Son
“Tess, this is me. I’ve been where you are. Is this about thinking you saw Mark? What happened?”
“A... a woman from Mark’s office came over last night.” I lower my voice to a whisper and stagger from the living room and along the corridor to the kitchen. “She told me the event in Frankfurt was canceled. There was no reason for Mark to be on the plane.” A sob shudders through my body and I drop onto one of the kitchen chairs.
“Oh, Tess, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” There’s a pause before she speaks again. “I’m coming over.”
“You don’t have to do that.” The line is dead. She’s gone.
I don’t know how long I sit there for, in yesterday’s clothes, with yesterday’s dinner congealing by the sink, but my bare feet are numb from cold by the time there’s a knock on the side door.
“Tess?” Shelley calls out.
“I’m coming,” I shout, heaving myself out of the chair. It’s only then, as I’m reaching for the handle, that I remember I haven’t told Jamie. I’m not sure I’ve mentioned Shelley to him at all, in fact. He won’t be happy, but it’s too late to do anything about it now.
A burst of cold air blows straight through me as I open the door. Shelley is wearing the same tight jeans, with a red V-neck jumper this time. The winter coat and the suede boots have been replaced with a black silk scarf and a pair of black Converse trainers.
“Hey.” Her smile is as wide as it was on her last visit, as if she is onmy doorstep for a lunch date, a catch-up with an old friend, instead of here to help me pick up the pieces of my shattered life. “You look dreadful.”
“Thanks,” I say, and maybe because Shelley’s energy is infectious, or maybe because she didn’t tiptoe around how awful I look, I smile.
“Shall I put the kettle on? We can talk some more.”
“I...” I shake my head. “I’m so tired.” Tears flow from my eyes like a tap someone has forgotten to turn off. “You didn’t need to come over. I’m sure your volunteer role doesn’t extend to weekends.”
“I’m not here as a grief counselor, Tess. I’m here as a friend, one I think you need right now. I understand what you’re going through. So why don’t you go back to bed for a bit or have a bath if you prefer? Get some rest. We can talk later. I’ve got some food in the car. I can make dinner. Leave everything to me.”
Shelley slips out of her shoes, leaving them in the nook beside Jamie’s, and steps through the kitchen. I’m about to trail after her and protest, to remind her how shy Jamie is, but before I have the chance I hear him talking. I follow the noise and stand in the living room doorway. Shelley is moving around the room, fluffing cushions and scooping up a pile of newspapers in the corner that have been there since forever.
“These are the controls,” Jamie says. “X to pass and O to tackle.” The way he’s talking it’s as though they’re old friends instead of total strangers. There is no hint of the shyness he so often shows. I guess he feels it too—Shelley’s energy and the way she understands without having to say anything.
Shelley looks up and smiles.
I want to join them. I want to flop onto the sofa and listen to Jamie’s chatter, but I can’t. There’s a dead weight on my chest. I have to lie down. I have to sleep.
“Are you sure you don’t mind if I go back to bed?” I ask them as a yawn takes hold of my body.
“We’re fine, Mum,” Jamie shouts back.
“Leave it all to me, Tess,” Shelley calls after him as I’m already moving toward the stairs.
It’s OK, Tess, I’m here.
You’re not, though, are you, Mark? Your voice is really my voice.
Do you remember our first holiday with Jamie? We took him to Portugal, and he spent most of the holiday trying to eat the sand.
I remember.
All those waiters kept tripping over themselves to speak to you.
Hardly, but keep talking to me. I like to hear your voice.
CHAPTER 14
It’s the sound of Jamie’s giggling that pulls me back to consciousness. Our bedroom is dark. I stare at the curtains waiting for my eyes to adjust and see daylight, but it’s not there anymore. How long have I been asleep?
There’s a glass of water on the bedside table and I gulp it back in one. The liquid sloshes inside my empty stomach, leaving me suddenly nauseous as I stand and make my way downstairs.
I find Jamie alone in the living room. He’s lying on his stomach, sprawled across the rug, legs kicking back and forth as his eyes scan the pages of aWhere’s Wally?book.
