Cathy Glass - A Life Lost, Part 2 of 3: Jackson Is Haunted by a Secret from His Past

Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the familys privacy.

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First published by HarperElement 2021

FIRST EDITION

Cathy Glass 2021

Cover design Claire Ward HarperCollinsPublishers 2021

Cover photograph Kelly Sillaste/Trevillion Images (posed by a model)

A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

Cathy Glass asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780008436612

Ebook Edition February 2021 ISBN: 9780008436650

Version: 2021-01-19

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Chapter Eleven

Jackson sat at the table reluctantly doing his school work while I busied myself in the kitchen, keeping an eye on him and ready to help if necessary. But my brain was working overtime. What was it Adrian wanted to tell me? Hed given no clue but had seemed very serious. Hed always been on the quiet side; reserved, thoughtful, sometimes internalizing his feelings. But he was also rational, sensible and not given to flights of fantasy. Whatever he wanted to talk to me about, he would have considered it carefully first. He worked hard at his job with a firm of accountants, and his long-time girlfriend Kirsty was a teacher. Was it about his job or her? I wondered. Or something entirely different?

Was he ill? I thought with a stab of horror. Had he been experiencing symptoms and, not wanting to worry me, secretly gone to the doctor? It was possible, although hed said there was nothing wrong. In that case, why hadnt he just told me there and then what he had to say? Lucy had suddenly announced she was pregnant the year before. Was Kirsty now expecting too? I doubted it. Adrian had told me they were saving up to buy a place of their own first, but of course not all babies are planned.

Im finished, Jackson said, jolting me from my thoughts.

Good boy. I went over to check his work, but he hurriedly packed away his books.

Im phoning my mum now, he said, and went into the living room to make the call.

I could only hear one side of the conversation, but his voice was flat. I guessed his mother kept asking him if he was all right and what was wrong, because he said, Nothing, in reply a number of times in the same gruff voice. His other short replies didnt reassure me either. Yes. Dont know. No.

When he spoke to his sisters he was a bit more animated, although they did most of the talking. I went into the living room. Tell them about your day at school, I suggested. But he didnt.

They spoke for a few minutes longer and when he ended the call he picked up the remote control for the television.

Would you like to play a game instead of watching television? I asked.

No.

I looked at him carefully. Jackson, what can I do to make your life easier?

Nothing! he replied grumpily, and switched on the television.

I stayed in the living room, checking and replying to the messages on my phone, while he watched television, but my thoughts were elsewhere. Now I was concerned not only for Jackson, but for Adrian too. I would wait until Jackson was in bed before I heard what Adrian had to say so I could give him my full attention. At 7.45 when the programme Jackson was watching finished, I said it was time for him to get ready for bed. He protested but then went upstairs, and once hed showered and was in bed, I went up to say goodnight and clear up the bathroom. I knocked on his door and went in. He was sitting on the edge of his bed playing on his phone.

Ill take that downstairs for you, I said non-confrontationally.

He ignored me.

Jackson, I want to put your phone downstairs on the table ready for morning, like you have been doing.

Without any warning, he suddenly turned and threw the phone at me. It missed me but banged against the wall.

Thats not good, I said, picking it up. Youve lost half an hour of your television tomorrow.

Dont care! he shouted, his anger flaring.

Ill wait outside until youre calmer, I said, and left the room. Just in time. There was a loud crash as something hit the door. I guessed it was the chair. But it didnt stop there. He began banging it against the door. Paula, Adrian and Tilly shot out of their rooms.

What the hells that? Tilly cried.

Hes not going to trash the place, Adrian said, and he pushed open the door. Enough! he said loudly. Adrian was taller than Jackson and more solidly built. Stop now! What do you think youre doing?

Nothing, I heard Jackson say.

Put the chair where its supposed to be and get into bed, Adrian said.

I went into the room in time to see Jackson return the chair to the desk and get back into bed. Good boy, I said. Do you want to talk? I asked him.

No! Hate you.

Well leave you to calm down then, I said, and Adrian and I left the room.

Foster carers are expected to remove themselves from danger and I could see my presence was antagonizing Jackson. I drew the door to and waited. Thanks, I said to Adrian.

Tilly and Paula both looked a bit shaken. Hell be all right. You continue with what you were doing, I reassured them. Ill wait here.

Well have that chat when youre ready, Adrian said to me. Ill be downstairs, but dont go in his room again until hes calmed down. If that chair had hit you, it could have killed you.

All right, love.

Concerned, Adrian went downstairs as I waited on the landing until it went quiet in Jacksons room. I gingerly opened the door and looked in. He was asleep. Relieved, I joined Adrian in the living room. He had his laptop open and a mug of coffee beside him. Do you want a drink? he asked

No, thanks, love. I just want to hear what you have to say. He was looking even more serious now. He set his laptop aside and I sat beside him on the sofa. Well, what is it?

Kirsty and I are going to get married, he announced, turning to me.

Thats wonderful, Adrian! I kissed his cheek. But why are you looking worried?

He frowned. Because I have big concerns about leaving while youre still fostering. Jacksons behaviour tonight has confirmed it.

Oh Adrian, you dont have to worry about me.

Yes, I do, he replied firmly. I realize not all children we foster are as badly behaved as Jackson, but

No, some are worse, I put in.