Chapter 42

It was hard, describing to Jonah how Mum had freaked out after he'd left. How she'd insisted she and Dad take five months off fostering, cancelling our summer holiday on the pretext of the loss of income, when really she didn't want to spend two weeks pretending not to be furious with me.

It didn't help that the menopause knocked Mum totally off-kilter for a long while, causing unnerving anxiety and insomnia. When Nicky left for Cardiff, the three of us skulked around the house like shadows. I continued hiding in my room, or at friends' houses, while Mum used the excuse of making the most of their ‘sabbatical' to spend more and more time out of the house.

While caring for a toddler in November, things improved slightly, and when Nicky came home for Christmas we put on a good show of being a functional family. Dad and I started talking again, about practical matters mostly, but I knew he held nothing against me for what happened with Jonah. Mum was another matter, blaming her health for why she was withdrawn and often irritable. But I was used to being a footnote in the Franklin family, and once we started welcoming larger sibling groups on emergency placements, Nicky sharing my bedroom if ever they coincided with university holidays, I retook my place in the background.

By then I was with Brayden, who treated me as if I was the most important person in the universe. I followed him to the University of Derby, which was just far enough away for me to move into student accommodation, and it was easy enough for us to keep up the pretence of all being well when I visited home. It wasn't deliberate, after all, that Mum had booked a mini cruise with a friend on my birthday. And when Brayden invited me to spend Christmas with him in my first year, I jumped at the chance after hearing that Nicky would be in the Alps with Theo's parents. It was far more fun celebrating with Brayden's family, where I could be merry and bright while almost forgetting that it was my fault our family was so fragmented.

When Brayden proposed to me on Christmas Eve, I didn't have to think about it. We got married that summer, when I was twenty and he was twenty-one. We had a momentary stumble after finding out I was pregnant a few months later, especially when horrendous sickness meant I had to drop out in my second year. But we picked it back up again. I retrained as an antenatal teacher and started teaching at local community centres. We had a beautiful, healthy baby boy, and once Brayden's cycling app suddenly took off, we could afford a treat every now and then.

When Mum and Dad retired, I assumed it would be an opportunity for them to work on their increasingly strained marriage, and maybe even help her to breach the distance with me. Instead, she ended up spending months in bed, refusing to see either of her daughters, burrowing herself deeper into the online groups that seemed to offer some hope.

We were all so relieved when Mum grew well enough to get up and about again that we overlooked most of her comments about needing time for herself. Then she dropped the bombshell about the world cruise. A week later, she'd packed her bags and gone.

It was about the same time I realised she had no intention of properly keeping in touch, and eight years of paranoia wasn't so irrational after all, that I came home early from a parenting class and found my husband in bed with another woman.

‘It's still hard to comprehend why it was so difficult for her to forgive you,' Jonah said, once we'd taken our coffee into his small living room and settled on a brown leather sofa. ‘She'd shown grace to plenty of teenagers who'd done far worse.'

‘Yeah, but those kids had good reasons for acting the way they did. Mum always related the kids' behaviour to their backgrounds, their parents. She'd based her life's work on having superhuman parenting skills. Discovering her child could make such a monumental muck-up was like a personal affront.'

‘So, to avoid feeling responsible, which would mean upending her whole identity, she deflected the blame onto you.'

‘Yes. Which was fair enough, because it was me. I didn't end up falling asleep in your bed because I felt neglected. And she never believed we didn't have sex. But she also got angry at Dad, because he forgave me, and I guess that made her feel both guilty and betrayed.'

As we'd talked, we'd shifted position so that we leant against opposite arms of the sofa, facing each other, my legs stretched out, feet tucked to one side of his hip. It was how we'd spent hours on that one beautiful day thirteen years ago. Jonah reached down and rested his hand on my ankle, so casually I wasn't sure he even realised.

‘She loved you, Billy and Ellis. As far as Mum was concerned, I'd ripped away her future children, her dream to see you reunited, your chance of a safe, happy family, for the sake of a silly infatuation. She had to stand by helpless while her own daughter shattered three lives who'd already suffered more than enough, when she'd been so desperate to save them.' I sighed. ‘Something broke inside her. She never allowed herself to care so wholeheartedly for any kids again.'

‘Well.' He gently squeezed my foot, and I realised that he knew exactly where his hand was. ‘You can tell her you didn't ruin my life. Ending up at the Green House was one of the best things that ever happened to me. And like I said, if anything, meeting you saved me. I don't know how I'd have got through that year in Shropshire if I hadn't held out hope of one day seeing you again.'

‘Can you say the same for Ellis?' I asked, my throat aching.

‘We know as well as anyone that just because she's lost now, it doesn't mean it's hopeless.'

We talked a little more about our lives over the past ten years, how Jonah became a teacher. After leaving the Green House he'd rented places around Mansfield, our nearest town, ensuring he was close enough to see Billy and try to keep track of Ellis. He'd finally settled in Hatherstone to be near his new job at Charis House.

Oh, and he'd started wearing colours at the Green House.

‘My grey sweatshirt was falling apart, and Mary bought me a bright red one. The first time I wore it a girl tried to give me her number, so I figured it was the way to go.'

‘I don't suppose I'm allowed to be jealous that you changed your whole look because of another girl.'

He grinned. The sun coming out from behind a cloud. ‘You can be as jealous as you like. Though this might help.'

Then he sat up, lifted his shirt and showed me the jackal running across his ribcage.

I moved closer, stunned to see entwined around it was a letter L.

‘L for…'

He nodded, still smiling. Unable to resist, I reached out and stroked the ink with my fingers. Then our eyes met. I rested my hand against his bare skin, and we both leant forwards, anticipating the kiss.

The second our lips met, the front door crashed open, and Ellis tumbled into the living room.

‘What the—?' She stopped dead, face screwing up at the sight of us together on the sofa.

‘Hey.' Jonah scrambled to his feet, but Ellis was already backing away.

‘I can't believe you let that tramp into our house,' she snarled, holding one arm up to prevent him from getting too close.

Ellis looked even worse than the last time I'd seen her. Her hair was bleached a patchy, green-tinged blonde, hacked into a mullet style that accentuated her drawn face. A vest top revealed a near-skeletal frame, running shorts hung beneath a protruding bump and her sallow complexion was flecked with patches of raw, dry skin.

‘It's bad enough you dragging me to her snotty classes. Now, what, you're shagging her again?'

‘Woah.' I felt a flood of warmth at the tenderness in Jonah's tone. ‘We're not sleeping together. Libby came over for dinner, that's it.'

‘A thank you dinner for ripping our family apart?' Ellis jabbed at the air, punctuating the words. Her whole body twitched in a way that made me ache for the baby growing inside it.

I stood up, scanning the room for my bag.

‘Screw the pair of you. I only came back to get my stuff.'

‘Ellis, please, let's talk about this.' Jonah moved to put his arm around her, but she stumbled away.

‘Nah. My man's waiting in the car. He's going to take care of me. I've finally got someone who puts me first.'

‘Will Damon take care of your baby?' It was probably foolish for me to get involved, but I couldn't let Ellis leave without trying.

‘What did you say?' she spat, spinning to sneer at me.

‘Is his place safe for your baby? Will he put them first, too? Make sure you have nappies, clothes and sterile bottles? What about when your baby won't stop crying all night? Will Damon take better care of your baby than your brother can?'

For a second she faltered, revealing the scared, damaged teenager hiding behind the anger. Then she held up both middle fingers, told us both in no uncertain terms where we could shove her stuff, and left.

We were still standing there, frozen in shock, when my phone rang. Worried it might be Dad, by the time I'd found my bag still hanging off a kitchen chair I answered it without bothering to check the screen first.

‘Libby?'

‘Yes?' It wasn't Dad, but I was rattled enough that it took a couple of beats to identify the voice.

‘I'm sorry to bother you so late on a Friday night, but my contractions are six minutes apart. They're hurting quite a bit and I was wondering if you would come and hold my hand?'