Don't Come Looking by AJ Campbell (top 100 novels of all time TXT) 📕

emotion unless you’ve done something really wrong. You had good intentions.’

‘I can’t seem to shake it.’

‘Come on, you aren’t dealing drugs, and you haven’t committed murder, so move on.’

Joe and Isabella scurry over, voicing the state of their empty tummies. ‘We won’t be long,’ I say and tell them to see what’s in the fruit bowl.

Gill asks after my brother Ben.

‘He’s still travelling, expanding his business. I’ve not heard much from him since he left Bangkok a few weeks ago. We’ve had a few text exchanges, and he’s tried to facetime a few times, but I keep missing him. I must give him a call. He and Emmy broke up.’

Her hand shoots to her mouth. ‘Oh, no. I thought they were together for good. What happened?’

‘She broke it off before he left. He hasn’t even told me. I met up with her for a drink the week before last. She thought they were going in different directions, wanting different things. You know how career orientated she is. She’s gunning for a consultant title. He wants a family.’

‘Not like him to keep that from you. Perhaps he thinks they’ll get back together.’

‘He’s not been the same since Mum died, you know.’

‘Really? After all this time?’

‘It’ll be three years in December.’

‘Gosh, is it really that long? Any chance of them getting back together?’

‘Not according to Emmy. I thought they’d stay together forever. It’s painful to think of them apart. I love them both so much. At least they didn’t have kids.’

‘I’m sure you’ll still see her. You’ve been close for so long. And how’s Dan?’

‘The same as ever. Chasing every woman he meets as long as they aren’t English,’ I laugh. ‘Jim spoke to him a few nights ago. He’s been offered a new job here, in London.’

‘So, he’s moving back from New York?’

I nod. ‘It won’t be until the end of the year, though.’

‘That’ll be great for Jim to have his best friend back in town. And for you. Dan’s always been a great support for you when he’s around.’

‘It sure will be.’

‘Has he got somewhere to live?’

‘He’ll stay here until he gets himself sorted. I can’t wait.’

We chat and smile, debate and laugh until I can no longer bribe the kids to give us another five minutes. ‘Can we make the pancakes now?’ Joe asks for the fifth time. ‘It’s been ages.’

I wake Jim while Gill supervises the kids. All I can hear is their laughter and cheer. I try to persuade Jim to get up, but it’s another bad pain day. Are they getting more frequent? When the pain throbs this badly, there’s little I can do to make him discard the duvet. Leaving him in bed is the only option, with the hope that the next hit of painkillers will dose him with the strength to enjoy what’s left of the day. Perhaps the thought of the beach will entice him.

‘Do you remember when I taught you to make pancakes?’ Gill asks me as we sit down to the misshapen mounds which the kids serve with lashings of pride. I douse their efforts with maple syrup and chopped banana, surprised at how great they taste.

‘How could I forget?’ I laugh.

‘Why?’ asks Joe.

‘They kept falling apart.’ I suppose one could say a bit like me, back then.

‘Why?’ Joe, always so curious.

‘They needed some TLC,’ Gill says.

‘What’s TLC?’

‘Tender loving care,’ Gill and I say in unison.

‘How old were you Mummy?’ Isabella asks.

‘Sixteen.’

‘That’s old.’

‘Well, that’s when I first went to live with Gill.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Grandma wasn’t very well.’ I don’t tell him that Grandma hadn’t been well for several years before that, and I had lived with a succession of foster parents. Some things can be saved for when your kids are older.

‘Dead Grandma?’ she asks.

I half-smile and nod.

‘Why did she die?’

‘Don’t you remember me telling you? Because she had cancer that kept coming back and, in the end, she couldn’t fight it anymore.’

‘I don’t remember her. What’s cancer?’ Joe asks.

‘A terrible disease.’ That’s all I want to tell him. He’s too young to learn about chemo, clinical trials and the metastasis that travelled from my mother’s breast to her spine and eventually drove her up to heaven. She fought like a warrior for six years, but the continual battle defeated her in the end. I take solace in the special bond we managed to develop in the years before her death.

‘Right, who’s ready for the beach?’

Gill and I poke our fingers in our ears as shrieks of delight threaten to deafen. ‘You two clear the table, and I’ll go get Daddy up.’

Jim’s not good. I can tell by the way his head droops a tad to the left as if the pain is pulling it down. ‘I think I left my phone there last night,’ he says, combing his wet hair. There’s a slight tremor in his hands. ‘Can you check with Sasha, please?’

‘Whereabouts?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t find it, though. Unless it dropped out in the car on the way home.’

‘Are you sure you’re up for coming today? I could take the kids with Gill,’ I say, trying to relieve him of the guilt I know he feels because we’ve been promising the kids the waves all week.

‘I can’t let them down,’ he says, his pale face showing the agonising pain he’s in.

After a quick shower, I call Sasha, but there’s no answer. I leave a message asking if she can look for Jim’s phone and call me as soon as she can.

‘Do you think this is a good idea?’ I ask after I’ve loaded the car with overpacked bags, beach balls, buckets and spades.

He winces and shifts in his seat. ‘Go,’ he whispers.

During the drive to Brighton, Gill occupies the kids with games of I-spy, number plate bingo, and who packed what in their suitcase. Jim sleeps the whole way, allowing me to reflect on the events of last night. There are some dubious characters living in Napier Close, that’s for sure.

When we arrive, the cloudless sky presents a