Page 8 of Everything That Kills Me
“Yes.”
“Go and get changed and we can talk about your day while we eat.”
Jack did as he was told. He hung up his school clothes, put his shirt in the laundry basket and pulled on jeans and a grey T-shirt. He came back down to the kitchen and watched Thomas as he worked.
They usually shared meal prep but Thomas enjoyed cooking, so Jack was happy to let him do it. He wasn’t sure how old Thomas was. It said something slightly different on all of his passports. Early to mid-forties. His hair was always neatly cut, more grey than dark brown now, unless there was a need to dye it. Jack was the same height. Six one. Thomas had once said to him he hoped Jack didn’t grow to be too tall.
Being ordinary was important. Not standing out was essential. Thomas had bright blue eyes but wore lenses to change the colour when necessary. Jack’s eyes were anondescript grey. A darker grey than the boy who’d been on the verge of tears in the classroom. Zeph. A name that stood out too. Jack hadn’t forgotten his birth name but it was never used. Thomas had told him to forget it along with the first six years of his life, but Jack wanted to remember who he once was, what he’d escaped.
Jack and Thomas were listed in the most popular names for babies in the UK. Thomas wasn’t Thomas’s real name though Jack had no idea what it was, nor whether he was British or not. His guess was British because that was where they’d ended up after they left Russia. A flight from Belarus to Poland, then onto London. But Thomas had never confirmed his nationality.
Jack had met several of Thomas’s contacts over the last few years. Men and women who could supply whatever was needed. Papers, weapons, information. Jack thought if Thomas trusted them, he could too, but Thomas continually warned him no one could be trusted.
Thomas had sharp, angular cheek bones and thin lips. He was wiry, strong and fit. Still stronger than Jack, though that would change. Possibly in a shorter period of time than Thomas might think. He was cleverer than Jack. That probably wouldn’t change. They both spoke with the same neutral accent. Jack had worked hard on that.
“So…” Thomas asked. “Your day?”
Jack told him everything. By the time he’d done, salmon and salad were on the table.
“What have you learnt?”
Jack opened his mouth to saynothing more than I already knew apart from a bit of maths and physics,then pressed his lips together.
“Have you understood why I insisted on school?”
“Meeting and interacting with ordinary people.” That had to be the answer.
“I kept you out of school for too long. Selfishness that I excused as part caution and part pleasure. You’ve always been eager for knowledge and I enjoy teaching you. To do the work you’re training to do, you have to understand people. You need to predict the way they’ll react, yet not rely on that prediction.”
“Studying psychology is no substitute for personal observation.”
“Exactly.”
He’d fed back to Thomas the exact words he’d used when they’d begun to discuss psychology.
“Where better to start than among those of your age, who are also learning more than academic subjects. How to be friends. When to show compassion or empathy, whether you feel it or not. Genuine sympathy is good, but not empathy. Empathy is unwise because caring too much is dangerous.”
Jack nodded.
“How to be kind. When to offer forgiveness. You already understand the need to stay calm and focused in difficult situations. Not everything is a matter of life or death. This is a chance to learn how to earn and show respect among your peers. And yes, I know you think you already know all this.”
“I’m not rolling my eyes.”
“You might as well be. Youdoknow much of what I want you to see, but this is an opportunity to widen your horizons, expand your knowledge at a different level, one that you can only access at your age from your peers.”
“I get it.” He did.
“What did you think about Portia? She was the one who asked you to sit at her table at lunch?”
“Very beautiful. Envied by most of the girls. Lusted after by many of the boys. She was trying too hard to make an impression on me. Pushing her hair behind her ear was a tell. She has minions. Girls she can impress and control.”
“She has the two important requirements to be in charge of teenage girls.”
“Her looks and awareness of the power that being beautiful gives her.”
“Yes. You already know you’re attractive to the opposite sex.” Thomas shot him a glance. “Same sex too, probably. You’re good-looking. Too good-looking.”
“My only fault?” Jack raised his eyebrows. “Ah no, that would be lack of modesty.”
