When I was done sorting fan mail, I started looking through the documents Jack had put together for me.
I knew he was a pretty big deal in the pre-school market. His books were everywhere: there were Tilly and Billy toys, colouring books, all sorts. But it didn’t quite hit me until I started filtering through stuff like his bio that as his PA, I was suddenly someone quite important.
The bio read like a CV. Name: John Matthew Duffy. Born: Bray, County Wicklow, February 1987. Which, I quickly calculated, made him thirty-one: something he’d never told me. Graduated Dublin Institute of Technology with a First in architecture, married 2014, widowed 2016. Five children’s bestsellers, winner of the Hans Christian Andersen Award for Illustration in 2015, honorary degree from the Royal College of Art… it went on for ages.
Jack was a big hitter, and it was clear I needed to do a bloody good job for him.
There wasn’t much else I could get done that day: things like contacting bookshops and journalists would have to wait for the official working week to start. When I’d read through some of the documents, I borrowed Jack’s laptop to draft a quick press release I could post out with review copies of his latest book, Tilly and Billy Go to Sea, then pushed it away.
‘All right, think I’m spent for now,’ I said to Jack, who’d long abandoned his drawing and was deep in a book.
‘Productive day?’
‘Think so. You?’
‘Yeah, pretty good. Some preliminary sketches for the new one done.’
‘Which is?’
‘Tilly and Billy in a Hot Air Balloon.’
‘Okay, that’s got marketing potential.’ I had a sudden brainwave. ‘Ooh! We could do a book launch in a balloon. How awesome would that be? Bet I could get you a bucket of press.’
He smiled. ‘Oh, Di is going to love you.’ He patted the seat next to him. ‘Okay, come here. Staff appraisal time.’
I went to join him on the sofa.
‘So, how’d I do on my first day?’
‘Not bad. Seven out of ten for enthusiasm—’
‘Pfft, what? I was Miss bloody Enthuasiasm!’
‘Exactly. Right over the top of my Sunday lie-in. But nine out of ten for competence. Well done.’
I beamed. ‘Thanks. How do I get a ten then?’
‘Less humming while you read the post. Distracting. Also, the penis photos tend to take me out of my drawing a bit.’
‘You asked to see that!’
‘PA lesson one. Never let me have what I ask for. I’m a bad influence on myself.’ He stood and went to the fridge. ‘All the same, I think you earned this.’
He took out a bottle of something alcoholic and poured us both a glass.
‘So what’s next?’ I said.
Jack took his seat again, handed me my glass and stretched an arm around me as usual. ‘I thought we’d head off next week. Up to Scotland.’
‘To your parents’ place?’
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘The puppies’ll be happy there till they’re ready for rehoming. We’ll pick you up a laptop and mobile on the way so you can really get stuck in. And you’d better sort out a bank account too so I can pay you.’
‘Yeah. I really want to do that asap. It feels kind of symbolic.’ I laughed. ‘My first bank account, how grown up am I?’
‘What will you need to get it set up?’
‘Good question.’ I grabbed Jack’s laptop and Googled the bank’s website to find out what I needed. ‘Passport and proof of address. Shit! Address, didn’t think of that.’ I glanced up at him. ‘How do you manage?’
‘I use my parents’ address, when I need to apply for anything, and they forward the post on. Sure they won’t mind you doing the same.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’ll ask my mam when we get up there, but yeah, can’t see it being a problem. What about your ISA money, do you know what you need for that?’
‘I’ll need the current account first so they can transfer the cash. Just a sec.’ I pulled up the building society’s website. ‘But – oh, typical. They want two proofs of identity, either driving licence or birth certificate as well as my passport. And I don’t drive.’
‘Where’s your birth certificate again?’
‘At Mum’s, I’m assuming.’ I shuddered. ‘And I’m not going there for it.’
‘Well, I’m sure you can get a copy. We’ll sort it out tomorrow.’ He took the laptop from me and stood to stash it back in the overhead compartment where it lived. ‘How come you never got your driving licence then? Didn’t take to it?’
‘Never had a lesson. Ethan didn’t see the need for us both to be drivers. Said it was a waste of money when he could drop me anywhere I needed to be.’
‘Hmm. He did, did he?’
I frowned. ‘That’s not unusual, is it?’
‘And he stopped you opening a bank account?’
‘Well, no, he never actually stopped me. It’s just, when me and Ethan moved in together I was only seventeen. He said I could use his until I was an adult, then we’d upgrade to a joint account.’
‘But you never did.’
‘No. Ethan said his credit rating was better than mine so it’d be best to leave it in his name. In case we needed to get a loan or anything.’
‘That’s not how it works, Kitty.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No.’
He was staring at me. I felt my cheeks start to heat.
‘What?’ I said.
‘So every penny you ever earned went into his account.’
‘Yeah. But I could get it if I wanted to. I mean, I had a bank card. He just… he thought I wasn’t good with money so he wanted to keep track of our outgoings.’
Jack nodded. ‘Soph was like that. She was always more aware of what was going in and out than me, worried we were overspending. Know what we did?’
‘What?’
‘We had a conversation. Agreed to budget more carefully between us, make sure we were putting a bit away for a rainy day.’ He came to sit by me on the sofa again. ‘That’s what couples do, Kitty. One doesn’t just loftily inform the other she can’t access her own money, then gamble it away on the stock market without telling her.’
‘No…’
‘What did your family think of the arrangement?’
‘They didn’t know,’ I mumbled, feeling ashamed without quite knowing why. ‘My dad suspected something was up, I think. That’s why he put the ISA in just my name. But Laurel, my nan, Aunty Julia… Mum. I knew they’d be worried by it. And it wasn’t a big deal, really. I could always get money, Ethan was very generous with it.’
‘Generous. With your money. How fucking magnanimous of him.’ He took my two hands in his. ‘Kit, will you do something for me?’
He was looking into my face, his eyes intense. I wondered what was about to happen. He’d promised my staying would be strictly professional, but there was still that… something, always in the air between us.
‘Um, yeah. If you like,’ I said, dropping my gaze.
‘Replay what we just said back in your head, will you?’
‘Why?’
‘Please. For me.’
I thought back on the conversation we’d just had, then shook my head, bewildered. ‘What’re you getting at, Jack?’
‘Don’t you hear yourself? Defending him?’
Defending him… had I just done that? All I could hear was Ethan said… Ethan said. God, when I heard myself trying to justify it all, it sounded pathetic.
‘I promised not to ask what happened between you two at the wedding, but whatever it was must’ve been pretty horrific for you to end up here,’ Jack said. ‘And I’ve seen first-hand that he’s a controlling son of a bitch, not above a bit of emotional blackmail if it’ll help him get his way. You need to ask yourself why you’re still sticking up for him.’
He stood to refill our glasses while I stared blankly ahead.
‘Well?’ he said when he’d resumed his seat.
‘Yeah, maybe that is what it sounded like,’ I said slowly. ‘But it’s not really about him, not now. I know what he is. It’s…’ I looked up at him. ‘It’s me, Jack, I guess. I’m ashamed of myself for being taken in by him for so long. I mean, God! Like a child I let him… it’s pathetic. Isn’t it? I’m pathetic.’
‘You’re not pathetic. And there’s nothing for you to be ashamed of,’ he said gently, taking my hand and stroking it with his fingertips. ‘He’s conditioned you to think that way. It’s classic abusive behaviour.’
‘Abuse?’ It was the second time now he’d used that word, and both times it had sent a sickening pain through my gut. I pulled my hand away. ‘No.’
Ethan might’ve been a selfish, patronising bastard, now I tried my best to look at it objectively. He might’ve babied and cotton-wooled me until I felt like I could hardly breathe. Kept my money from me; spent it without consulting me. But abuse? Abuse was what Uncle Ken did. Abuse was ‘Oh, this? No, I just walked into a door’ or ‘burnt my hand on the iron’. After what’d happened to Aunty Julia, abuse was the one thing I’d always promised myself would mean an instant end to any relationship.
‘He cut you off,’ Jack said. ‘Isolated you, financially and emotionally. Didn’t he?’
‘Well, he… I guess he did kind of keep me to himself.’
‘They always do. Possession. That’s what it’s all about to someone with that mindset, dressed up as some sort of benevolent paternalism.’ I’d never seen such a black look on his face before. ‘It’s about ownership, in the end. The power trip of owning another human being. Pah! There’s more to abuse than a closed fist, Kit.’
I stared at him. ‘I’ve never known you to get angry like that.’
‘Guys like Ethan make me that angry. I just don’t know how people can treat other people that way and have the gall to call it love.’ He squeezed my hand tightly, and when he spoke again his voice was soft. ‘Sorry you had to go through that. You know, you’re a tough cookie, Kitty Clayton.’
I shook my head. ‘But it can’t be right. I always promised myself I’d never be a victim of that. I… I’d have noticed.’
‘You’re not a victim, not any more. You’re a survivor.’
I felt uncomfortable suddenly. Queasy. I wished I could be somewhere else, away from Jack and his words.
‘I’m going to bed,’ I mumbled. ‘I’ll sleep in the awning if you’re staying up.’
‘Running away?’ he said gently.
‘No. I just want a bit of space, that’s all.’
‘I’m sorry, Kit, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. I just think it’s important you face up to this. You told him where to go in real life, but he’s still there in your head. Isn’t he?’
‘He… maybe. A slice of him.’
He was still holding my hand. God, I needed to escape. I had to get away, from Jack, from what he was trying to make me face up to, from his hand around mine and his stupid kind understanding eyes.
And then, suddenly, I didn’t. Away from Jack was the last place I wanted to be. I wanted to be as close to him as humanly possible. I wanted him to make Ethan go away for me, to push him right out of my head. I wanted him to… to…
‘Jack, can I sleep with you tonight?’ I blurted out.
He frowned. ‘With me? Why?’
I flushed. ‘I thought… I mean, a hug would be nice. Um.’
Jack blinked. ‘Okay.’ He wrapped his arms around me, looking bewildered at my sudden shift in mood.
‘That’s good,’ I whispered, drooping against him. ‘Jack?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Will you kiss me? Please.’
He hesitated.
‘No,’ he said at last. ‘Not now.’
‘But you said you wanted to.’
‘Not like this.’ He stroked my hair away from my face. ‘Not while you’re hurting. If I kiss you, I want it to be… well, I want you to be thinking about me.’
‘I am thinking about you.’
‘You know what I mean. I want it to have joy in it, Kitty. When you make that decision, I want it to be about us. Not about him.’ He tilted my chin up and planted the smallest kiss on my forehead. ‘Get him out of there. Then maybe there’ll be room for me.’