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Back What I Did Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. Dedication
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Forty-Three
  47. Forty-Four
  48. Forty-Five
  49. Forty-Six
  50. Forty-Seven
  51. Forty-Eight
  52. Forty-Nine
  53. Fifty
  54. Fifty-One
  55. Fifty-Two
  56. Fifty-Three
  57. Fifty-Four
  58. Fifty-Five
  59. Fifty-Six
  60. Fifty-Seven
  61. Fifty-Eight
  62. Fifty-Nine
  63. Sixty
  64. Sixty-One
  65. Sixty-Two
  66. Sixty-Three
  67. Sixty-Four
  68. Sixty-Five
  69. Sixty-Six
  70. Sixty-Seven
  71. Sixty-Eight
  72. Sixty-Nine
  73. Seventy
  74. Seventy-One
  75. Seventy-Two
  76. Seventy-Three
  77. Seventy-Four
  78. Seventy-Five
  79. Seventy-Six
  80. Seventy-Seven
  81. Seventy-Eight
  82. Seventy-Nine
  83. Eighty
  84. Epilogue
  85. Acknowledgements
  86. Extract from To Keep You Safe
  87. About the Author

It occurred to me as I plunged out of the door into the now raining car park, aware that he could be anywhere – squatted between parked cars; crouched behind bushes; silent in shadows – that my mother was dead, but all I thought about was Jack’s silence. Perhaps it was the shock and cognitive overload; perhaps it was the early effects of the strong painkillers I’d just necked; perhaps it was because if I thought of my mum then I’d collapse in this car park and not get up again. But whatever the reason, as I ran from my mother’s, all I could think of is that I’d found Jack in a cage and he hadn’t mentioned it. I know his stutter really affected his confidence, but still . . . We’d run from his father’s where he was supposed to be, stayed in a hotel, driven to his Nana’s, arrived but left without him seeing her and run again – but he still doesn’t ask me a single question.

Not one.

He loved seeing my mum – perhaps even more than I did. While he was only seven he was intelligent enough – academically able, the school had said. But was he? Could I be sure when he didn’t seem to react in the way that I thought he should?

Wasn’t there something just a teeny bit wrong? More than his severe stutter?

We reached the car. I lowered Jack to the ground and searched my coat pockets for my keys. He clung around my waist as I did, like a sailor gripping the mast in a relentless storm.

I wanted to grasp him by the shoulders, to pull him away and stare into his sweet face to demand: Why don’t you ask me what’s going on? Or ask for sweets or moan for your own way or anything else tired seven-year-olds ask for?

I thought again about sallow-skinned Selena, staring dead-eyed at me.

‘See?’ my mother had said once after my Jack and Selena left, ‘you don’t give your son any credit. Jack’s only still a teenager, but as soon as he’s found out his girlfriend is pregnant, he’s done the right thing by the girl in a heartbeat. I’m proud of him and so should you be.’

I got what she was saying – she was saying that I was never satisfied. That everything my son did was wrong. Perhaps she had a point: now that his son was quiet and compliant, I still wasn’t happy.

Anxious to stop replaying old criticisms from my mother, I clicked the button on the fob – and then we were in the safety of the car. Jack scrabbled for his car seat and with a swift dexterity, he did up his own seat belt. Then, as if in response to my silent questions, he put Bunny over his face and seemed to fall instantly asleep.