Chapters (87)
- Cover
- Praise
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- Extract from To Keep You Safe
- About the Author
How do you know his school was lovely? I felt like yelling. But I didn’t say this because I didn’t want her to feel bad about what she did and didn’t know. ‘Mum.’ I tried for calm but my voice still carried a tone of warning. I paused and watched Jack. He carried on reading and eventually turned a page. I didn’t believe he wasn’t listening, but I had to have this conversation. ‘No, not out of the blue,’ I said eventually. ‘And I think you know that.’
‘I don’t know anything. You don’t tell me anything.’
‘What can I ever tell you?’ I cut a glance at my son. ‘I have him with me, what can I say?’
‘You could write.’
‘I’m no writer. Besides . . .’ I glanced down at my hands. My pale pink nail varnish was chipped. ‘You know how I feel about them being read.’
She sighed and sat back. She seemed to think for a while. ‘Jack?’ she said, but he carried on reading. She tried again. When he continued to read, she said it again, but louder and sharper this time.
He looked up over his book. ‘Nana?’
‘How grown up are you feeling?’
‘I’m five – but nearly six! I’m big now.’ He stood up. ‘See?’
My mother nodded as if she was impressed. ‘I can see you’re old enough for this. I’d like you to go up to the ladies over there –’ she said, signalling at the WRVS stall – ‘and all on your own, bring us two teas and something for yourself. Maybe a bit of cake?’
He hesitated.
‘Go on, Jack,’ she said. ‘Ask for a tray to carry the drinks.’
‘Mum, he’s only—’
‘He’s old enough for a little responsibility. Give him some cash, love. Please.’ She turned back to him. ‘Crisps if you want, instead of cake.’
I relented and opened my purse. He skipped as he headed towards the tea stall. We both watched him weave across the room, through the groups of women meeting their families.
‘How is this affecting Jack? It must be such a lot for a young lad to take on, away from dad, new town, new home. He must miss his friends and his school dreadfully.’
‘I had to do something, it wasn’t – we couldn’t stay. Besides, it wasn’t right for him. It was too . . . too . . .’
‘Too much like school?’ she shook her head. ‘Just like you – you were just the same.’