The Key to Finding Jack by Ewa Jozefkowicz (best classic books to read TXT) 📕

‘You’re back,’ said Sutty when we’d come in that day. ‘Here for the goods, as agreed?’ he asked winking. He emerged from behind the counter with a plastic cylinder filled with balls.

‘Tennis balls?’ I asked, confused.

‘Ah, not just any tennis balls, my lady,’ said Sutty, ‘they’re glow-in-the-dark tennis balls. Your games will never be the same again.’

It seemed an odd thing to buy, even for Jack, who loved tennis. But as he never played late in the evening, and the courts in our local park had fancy floodlights, you could see everything, even in the dark. I was convinced that the balls were to be used as part of a joke and I vowed to ask Jack as soon as we left the shop.

‘I played with them last week,’ said a voice behind us, ‘it’s like hitting balls of fire.’

I turned around to see a tall, pale girl of about Jack’s age with jet-black hair. She was wearing an oversized leather jacket and what looked like men’s jeans. Her left eyebrow was raised in a mocking expression.

I glanced at Jack and for the first time ever, I saw his cheeks flush. He ran his hand over his face trying to hide it, but I could tell that the girl had noticed the effect she’d had on him.

‘Manfy,’ she said. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘Jack.’

I looked from one to the other, wondering what was going on, but neither of them gave anything away.

I was almost at the front door of Sutty’s shop, when somebody called my name. I turned around and saw Duncan standing outside the bakery next door. Without his immaculate school uniform, he looked younger and friendlier.

‘Hi. What are you doing here?’ I asked him.

‘Oh… Erm, my mom sent me out for some breakfast things… Mr Rox told us about your brother. I’m really sorry. I hope he gets found as soon as possible. If you need anything, you know, like any lesson notes for stuff that you miss, let me know. I’m good at taking notes.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, staring at Duncan with surprise. ‘But I’ll probably be back on Monday.’

I couldn’t help but notice that he kept casting quick glances right and left, as if to make sure that nobody had seen him talking to me. It seemed that even in his moment of kindness, he was thinking about looking good.

I watched him cross the road, with his perfect posture and confident stride.

Luckily, I was spared from having to worry about this strange encounter any longer, because just then the door to Sutty’s swung open and there he was.

‘I’m deeply, deeply sorry,’ he said simply. ‘I’ve been watching it all on television. I keep hoping somebody will announce Jack is OK.’ And then, strangely for him, he appeared lost for words.

‘Thank you,’ I said, although the drumming in my head was already rising in volume. ‘I… I’m actually here to see Simon.’

‘Ah, he’s not here today. In fact he officially finished working here last week, but now that his… now that his plans have changed, I’ve told him that he could come back if he wanted to. He’s going to do a stocktake for me on Monday…’ Sutty began to explain but I felt my eyes blurring. I sat down on the front step. My shoulders shook.

I felt a big hand patting my back and then Sutty sat beside me, his huge body blocking the entrance to the shop. Luckily as it was early on a Saturday morning, there didn’t seem to be any customers around.

We sat in silence and I rested my head on my knees to stop Sutty seeing me cry. I couldn’t believe that Simon wasn’t there. Monday was two whole days away. How would I fill that time? I wouldn’t be able to dodge Mum and Dad, or avoid the drone of the TV news for another forty-eight hours.

From my strange position, all I could see was the edge of Sutty’s frayed trouser leg and a small rectangle of the lower part of the open door which I bet nobody had ever looked at. It said, ‘Sutantu Faasil and Sons’. My heart sped up. S.F.

‘Is that you?’ I asked, startling Sutty. His dark, bushy eyebrows shot up.

‘What’s me?’

‘That,’ I repeated, pointing to the sign. ‘Is that your full name?’

‘Oh! Yes, that’s me for sure. Unless I’ve stolen someone else’s shop.’ He laughed, and then stopped, maybe thinking it was inappropriate in the circumstances.

Could it be possible that the key was meant for Sutty? I would never have guessed it, but then, as I’d learned from Jack, the answers to riddles often came from the most unlikely places.

‘Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?’

‘Anything,’ he said, wiping his beard with his hand.

‘Can you tell me about when you first met my brother?’

‘Ah,’ he said, and I noticed a grin playing across his lips. ‘Now, that is a question that requires a long answer. Tell you what, wait here.’ And for such a tall man, he jumped up quickly and was back moments later with his huge, green rain mac.

‘I’ve asked Miranda to look after the shop. I think I’m due an early lunch. I’ve been working extremely hard today,’ he said, winking at me and pulling me to my feet.

He took me to the greasy spoon cafe across the road.

‘They do great hot chocolate in here,’ he said. ‘Do you want one? You can even have a shot of mint.’

We parked ourselves next to the misted-up window. A small child must have sat there recently, because outlines of handprints and crooked letters were scrawled on the glass. I had an image of Jack playing noughts and crosses with me on the window of the car on the way to France.

‘You want me to tell you about when I met Jack?’ I liked the way that he said Jack’s name, the ‘k’ short and snappy, almost a clicking sound.

‘Yes,