‘Because I don’t want to go,’ Jack said. ‘I told you that.’
‘Well … tough. We’re all going. It’s going to be an adventure.’ Adventure. I liked the sound of that word! ‘Now, find that rucksack.’
‘What rucksack?’ Jack asked again. ‘And why do I have to go? Take Claire.’
‘I’m taking both of you,’ Amy said. ‘So go and find the rucksack I bought you for your Duke of Edinburgh trip and get dressed.’
Jack stared down at his mother for a long moment. I knew that look. He was deciding if he could push her any further.
Apparently he decided he couldn’t.
‘That rucksack is red,’ he said, grumbling, but he headed back to his room to get ready, all the same.
Which just left me wondering – getting ready for what? Amy hadn’t said. She’d said they were all going on an adventure – but did that include me? I hoped so. And if not … well, maybe I’d just grab my lead and follow after them! I wasn’t going to miss out on what could be the most fun any of us had had in weeks!
‘Well. This looks interesting.’ Sookie brushed up beside me as she sat herself in her usual spot, next to the radiator. ‘What do you think is going on?’
‘We’re getting ready to go somewhere,’ I said, watching Amy as she bustled about between the kitchen and the hall, gathering things together.
‘Obviously.’ Sookie swept her fluffy tail from side to side on the wooden floor. ‘But where?’
‘An adventure.’ I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my voice.
Sookie rolled her eyes, and headed off towards the kitchen. ‘Bo-ring.’ Cats. They have no sense of adventure at all.
Amy reappeared in the hallway again, Claire trailing along behind her.
‘If I had my own phone, I could play on that on the train,’ Claire said. ‘I mean, I am twelve now. All my friends have them, you know.’
‘We said we’d talk about a phone when you’re thirteen.’ Amy didn’t even turn to look at her as she replied. Given how many times they’d had this argument, I wasn’t very surprised.
‘I’m just saying, I’m almost thirteen.’
‘You turned twelve in October. Two months ago.’
‘And a phone would make a brilliant Christmas present,’ Claire went on, oblivious to her mother’s attempt to use logic against her.
Sighing, Amy turned back to look at her daughter. ‘Claire, we’ve talked about this. You know Christmas is going to be a little … different this year. And big presents like that, they’re just not on the cards right now, I’m afraid.’
Claire’s expression turned stormy. She often got that look just before she clipped on my lead and dragged me down to the shops full pelt. I like a walk as much as the next dog, but when Claire is on a full speed sulk there’s no time to enjoy it.
‘Fine,’ she said, folding her arms over her chest. ‘I’ll just ask Dad, then.’
Amy looked away, a sudden sadness in her eyes. It made me want to go snuggle up against her, for comfort. ‘You do that.’
The tension continued as Amy finished packing her bag – and Jack’s red rucksack, after he tossed it down the stairs. Claire sat at the kitchen table, just within eyesight of the hallway, still glaring. Sookie wandered past to weave between Claire’s legs as they dangled down from the chair, but Claire didn’t even reach down to pet her.
I went to sit by my lead. We really needed this adventure. All of us.
‘Right,’ Amy said, sounding decisive again. ‘Coats on, everyone. It’s time to go!’
Jack thumped down the stairs and yanked his coat from the rack. Claire shrugged her puffy red jacket on, too, and Amy buttoned up her old duffle coat. The she picked up her rucksack, handed Jack his to carry and …
Yes! She lifted my lead off its hook and clipped it onto my collar!
A warm, peaceful feeling settled over me. Wherever my people were going, they wanted me with them. That was all that mattered.
‘Guess you’d better just hope they bring you back with them, too,’ Sookie murmured, as she brushed past us to run up the stairs.
I didn’t pay her any mind. Of course they’d bring me home again.
I was an integral part of the family. Let’s face it: they’d all be lost without me.
This was a good idea, Amy decided, finally, as she spotted the sign she was looking for in the distance.
Even as the train had pulled into Victoria station, she still hadn’t been sure. Jack had been silent for most of the train journey – actually, he’d been silent for most of the last six weeks, ever since Jim left. But the silence seemed to be getting more pointed as the days went on without their father returning. At least she still got a few words out of him, sometimes. Jack wouldn’t even talk to Jim when he called – he hung up every time he answered the phone to him.
And Claire – her sunny-natured, happy girl – was different these days. She argued every point, complained about any slight change to the usual routine … and there were plenty of changes. Even Henry’s behaviour had been erratic since Jim left. The poor corgi seemed determined to remind everyone that he was still there, mostly by causing trouble. Before Jim had left, Henry had been a perfectly behaved dog. These days, Amy seemed to spend half her time shooing him off the beds, or chasing him down the road when he escaped, again. She’d even had to assign Jack to dishwasher duties, to stop Henry eating the leftovers right off the plate.
Still, she couldn’t blame the little dog for being unsettled, maybe even a little scared. They all were. Things were very different now.
Jim had taken his salary with him when he left. He still paid his half of the mortgage, and had offered more for the kids, but Amy wouldn’t accept it. Why should she? It would only make him feel better, like he was doing enough for his family.
He wasn’t, not by a long shot.
His family needed him there. Not his money.
And if they didn’t have him – well, then she would do it herself. All of it.
She’d prove to Jim that they were better off without him, anyway. That would feel better than slapping his stupid face. Apparently.
Her friends had had plenty to say about Jim’s departure, of course – mostly scathing comments about him living the cliché, or not knowing a good thing when he had one. They all meant well, Amy knew, and it even helped a little, knowing she had all those people on her side. But the most useful advice she’d been given had actually come from a very surprising source – the new doctor at the surgery where she worked as a nurse. Dr Fitzgerald was new to the area and, according to the grapevine, recently divorced himself. Amy had seen him in the park by the surgery a few times, walking his pet Dalmatian, but they’d rarely spoken until last month. The week after Jim had left, he’d stuck his head into the room she was working out of, and asked if she was okay.
Amy had pasted on a smile and tried to put up a show of coping, but he’d seen through it immediately.
‘Everyone is going to have a lot of advice for you,’ he’d said, with a gentle smile. ‘And some of it will probably be good, and some of it will almost certainly be terrible. The only thing I can tell you is: you’re the only one who will have to keep living in your life once this is all over and everyone else has moved on. Once it all calms