The Last Charm. Ella Allbright

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СКАЧАТЬ Whereas I have both my parents but—’

      ‘You don’t have what I have,’ she finishes slowly. ‘Oh. I see. I never thought of it like that. I’m sorry. It must be hard.’ She looks sympathetic, reaching a hand out towards him.

      Jake waves her words, and comfort, away. ‘Let’s not get into that.’ He can’t bear her pity. Besides, he’s not that beaten little boy anymore. ‘You were talking about all my worst traits?’

      She laughs, casting him a wry smile. ‘Honestly? It’s not even that. This isn’t easy for me to say, but I’ve been annoyed at you for years for another reason.’

      ‘Really?’ He moves closer. ‘Why?’

      ‘I guess I was just surprised and disappointed that after you left town you never got in touch again. I never got to say thank you for returning Pandora and leaving me the book charm –’ she looks discomfited, and softens her voice kindly ‘– which, by the way, was really nice, but it’s mine and Mum’s thing so I’d rather you didn’t, thank you.’ Her voice hardens, ‘You stayed in touch with Owen after you left and hinted that you did with Grandad too. Then we just ran into each other by chance at the beach party. It’s not like you were looking for me.’

      ‘But I—’ he blurts, before grinding to a halt.

      ‘What?’ she leaps in.

      How can he tell her that all the charms bar one have been from him, when he knows it will break her heart? For the last six years he’s bought her charms based on what Ray’s dropped into conversation about her life, whereas she’s believed her mum sends them. She draws comfort and hope from that belief.

      Now it’s gone on so long he feels trapped by his own lies. If he stops sending them, she’ll be devastated, because it’ll mean no contact from her mum at all and she’ll feel like she’s losing her all over again.

      At last, he mutters, ‘I’m sorry I didn’t stay in touch. I should have done. I’m not back for long but I promise next time I’m home on leave I’ll look you up. Okay? To be honest, I didn’t think it would matter that much to you.’

      A wave of heat surges up her neck and into her face, mottling her skin. She steps back. ‘It didn’t, don’t worry about it.’ Averting her gaze, she gabbles, ‘Look, I’ve got to run. Mr Strickland will be wondering where I am. Let me grab my insurance details.’

      He watches her dive into the front of her car as he pulls his wallet out. A minute later she’s pressed her details into his hand on a scrappy bit of paper. It’s written in blue pencil and is barely legible. He squints at it, trying to read. The details he’s given her are in neat block writing on the back of a business card someone once gave him, noted down in case of an accident.

      She mouths the insurance company name and number as she reads it. ‘You came well prepared.’

      ‘Maybe Navy life has given me self-discipline and now I prepare in advance.’

      ‘There’s that chip again.’ She moves closer and pretends to brush it off his shoulder, before awkwardly stepping back.

      He laughs, defusing the tension between them.

      ‘Preparing in advance sounds a bit boring to me,’ she says. ‘I’d rather not waste time doing things now that I might not have to worry about doing at all.’ She folds the card in half and shoves it carelessly in her pocket. ‘To be honest, you always struck me as independent, so it doesn’t surprise me you’re organised. I guess you were used to looking after yourself.’ She straightens. ‘Anyway, make sure you tell the insurance company the accident was your fault before heading off again overseas. I could do without having to wait months for this to be sorted.’

      ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’ll call them –’ he raises one eyebrow ‘– to confirm it was your fault, and that you need to pay for the damage.’

      ‘I reversed first,’ she retorts, ‘so it was your fault. You should take responsibility.’

      ‘I don’t think so. Got any witnesses who are going to agree with you?’

      They both look around at the empty car park.

      She groans. ‘Jake, you might be earning an annual salary, but I’m not. I’m just a poor student who spends all her money on art supplies and petrol. Come on. You owe me.’ She pulls a hopeful expression. ‘Don’t forget I saved your life once.’

      ‘Don’t forget I saved you from being expelled once. I’d call it even, as you said that night on the beach. No deal.’

      ‘You said it didn’t make us even, that you used me to get what you wanted, to leave home.’

      ‘I said a lot of things back then.’ He sighs. ‘I shouldn’t have said I used you. I’ve grown up since.’

      ‘Sounds boring,’ she mutters, looking down and fiddling with her charm bracelet.

      He flicks the tiny car charm, knowing he’s tempting fate. He’s not ready to say goodbye yet though. ‘You got another one.’

      She looks up. ‘Yeah. Grandad started teaching me to drive on his friend’s farm just after my sixteenth. It was in the New Forest, so great scenery and lots of private land to practise on. I studied hard to pass the theory test as soon as I hit seventeen, and then took a few lessons to help pass the driving test. The charm arrived a few weeks later.’

      ‘You like it then?’ He holds his breath.

      ‘Yeah, it’s cute.’ She grins.

      He nods. ‘You passed your test quite quickly.’

      ‘Not something you usually associate with me, huh?’ Her mouth quirks up on one side. ‘I really wanted a car to get around on my own. There are loads of amazing places I want to paint and taking an easel on the bus is no fun. My friends didn’t exactly relish driving me to deserted places and waiting around for hours on end either.’ She rolls her eyes. ‘But after I passed my test, Dad and Grandad clubbed together and matched some savings I had, and we bought this rust bucket.’ She kicks the vintage Beetle’s back tyre fondly.

      ‘You’re lucky they did that for you.’

      ‘Yeah. But I’m also the youngest in my year and having to wait nearly twelve months while all my friends got cars has been crap. The thirty-first of August is the worst day ever to be born on; I’m just lagging behind constantly. The least Mum could’ve done was cross her legs for an extra couple of days. Then I’d be the oldest in my year instead of the youngest.’

      ‘You’re right, she was completely selfish,’ he says, with a straight face. ‘But I don’t think the thirty-first of August is all bad.’

      ‘Why’s that?’

      Jake starts walking backwards, taking one last look at her, waving her insurance details in the air. ‘Because someone born on that day is paying for my dad’s car to be repaired.’

      ‘That’s not funny,’ she hollers as he gets in the BMW and reverses around in an arc to face the exit.

      He rolls down his window and gives Leila a cheerful wave. ‘Take care, Jones. My insurance company СКАЧАТЬ