Which was how Jake went up to yellow on his first day.

Daddy was going to be very disappointed.

Eighteen

The day had gone better than I expected.

Eight hundred words might have been a relatively meager tally, but after not writing anything for months, at least it was a start.

I read it through again now.

Rebecca.

At the moment, it was about her. Not a story in itself, or even the beginning of one, as things stood, but the beginning of a letter to her, and one that was difficult to read. There were so many happy memories to draw on, and I knew that I would as I continued, but while I loved and missed her more than I could say, I also couldn’t deny the ugly kernel of resentment I felt, the frustration at being left alone with Jake, the loneliness of that empty bed. The sense of being abandoned to deal with things it felt like I couldn’t cope with. None of that was her fault, of course, but grief is a stew with a thousand ingredients, and not all of them are palatable. What I’d written was an honest expression of a small part of how I felt.

Groundwork, basically. I had an idea now of what I could write about. A man, a little like me, who had lost a woman, a little like her. And as painful as it would be to explore, I could do that, moving from the ugliness to the beauty, and hopefully some final sense of resolution and acceptance. Sometimes writing can help to heal you. I didn’t know if that would be the case here, but it was something to aim for.

I saved the file, and then went to pick up Jake.

When I arrived at the school, all the other parents were lined up against the wall, waiting. There was probably strict but unspoken etiquette about where to stand, but it had been a long day and I decided I didn’t care. Instead, I spotted Karen standing by herself near the gate and just went over to her. The afternoon was even warmer than the morning, but she was still dressed as though prepared for snow.

“Hello again,” she said. “Do you think he survived?”

“I’m pretty sure they’d have phoned by now if not.”

“I imagine so. How was your day? Well—I call it a day. How were your six hours of freedom?”

“Interesting,” I said. “I finally looked in our new garage and discovered that the previous owner decided to empty out all the junk by hiding it in there.”

“Ah. How annoying. But also how cunning.”

I laughed, but only slightly. The writing had taken away some of the unease from the man calling around, but it returned to me now.

“I also had some random guy snooping about.”

“Okay, that sounds less good.”

“Yeah. He said he grew up in the house and wanted to look around. Not sure I believed him.”

“You didn’t let him in, right?”

“God, no.”

“Whereabouts have you moved?”

“Garholt Street.”

“Just around the corner from us.” She nodded. “The scary house, by any chance?”

The scary house. My heart sank.

“Probably. Although I prefer to think of it as having character.”

“Oh, it does.” She nodded again. “I saw it was up for sale over the summer. It’s not really scary at all, obviously, but Adam used to say it looked strange.”

“Totally the right place for me and Jake, then.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” She smiled, then leaned away from the railing as the school door opened. “Here we go. The beasts are loose.”

Jake’s class teacher came out and stood by the door, looking over the parents, then calling over her shoulder for individual children. They came scurrying out one by one, their book bags and water bottles swinging at their sides. Mrs. Shelley, I remembered. She looked somewhat unforgiving. I was sure her gaze landed on me a few times, but it moved on before I could tell her I was Jake’s dad. A boy I presumed was Adam joined us and Karen ruffled his hair.

“Good day, kid?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Come on, then.” She turned to me. “See you tomorrow.”

“You will.”

After they headed off, I waited some more, until I was the only parent still standing there. Finally, Mrs. Shelley beckoned me over. I walked across, effectively summoned.

“You’re Jake’s dad?”

“Yes.”

Jake stepped out to me, staring down at the ground and looking small and subdued. Oh, God, I thought. Something had happened. That was why we’d been left until last.

“Is there a problem?”

“Nothing major,” Mrs. Shelley said. “But I still wanted a word. Do you want to tell your father what happened, Jake?”

“I got put on the yellow square, Dad.”

“The what?”

“We have a traffic light system on the wall,” Mrs. Shelley explained. “For naughtiness. As a result of his behavior today, Jake’s the first of our children to move up to yellow. So not an ideal first day.”

“What did he do?”

“I told Tabby she was going to die,” Jake said.

“And Owen too,” Mrs. Shelley added.

“And Owen too.”

“Well,” I said. And then, because I couldn’t think of anything more sensible to add: “We are all going to die.”

Mrs. Shelley was not impressed.

“That is not funny, Mr. Kennedy.”

“I know.”

“There was a boy here last year,” Mrs. Shelley said. “Neil Spencer? You might have seen about him on the news.”

The name rang the vaguest of bells.

“He went missing,” she said.

“Oh, yes.”

I remembered now. Something about the parents letting him walk home on his own.

“It’s all been very unpleasant.” Mrs. Shelley looked at Jake and hesitated. “It’s not something we like to talk about. Jake suggested that these other children might be next.”

“Right. And so he’s … on yellow?”

“For the next week. If he moves up to red, he’ll have to go to see the headmistress.”

I looked down at Jake, who appeared utterly miserable. I didn’t much like the idea of him being publicly shamed on a wall, but at the same time I was frustrated with him. It seemed such an awful thing for him to have said. Why would he have done that?

“Right,” I said. “Well, I’m disappointed to hear about this behavior, Jake. Very disappointed.”

His head sank lower.

“We’ll talk about it on the way home.” I turned to Mrs. Shelley. “And it won’t happen again, I promise.”

“Let’s make sure it doesn’t. There’s something else too.” She stepped closer to me and spoke more quietly, even though it was obvious Jake would still be able to hear. “Our teaching assistant saw him at lunchtime, and was a little concerned. He said that Jake was talking to himself?”

I closed my eyes, my heart properly falling now. God, not that as well. Not in front of everyone. Why couldn’t things be simple?

Why couldn’t we just fit in here?

“I’ll talk to him,” I said again.

* * *

Except that Jake refused to talk to me.