Little Boy Blue

54

Paul Jackson stepped into the garage and closed the connecting door firmly behind him. He had tried to talk to Sally three times now. The first couple of times she’d just shut the bedroom door on him, but on the third she’d finally found her voice – telling him to pack his bags and go.

He hadn’t been expecting that. He had thought she would let him stay, as they tried to work out what to do next. He’d wrongly assumed that that was partly why the boys were being looked after elsewhere – to give them time to talk.

But she didn’t want him in the house. In fact she barely seemed able or willing to look at him. The last twenty-four hours had been beyond awful but this was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back and he’d sobbed as he’d begged for her forgiveness. He loved her – in spite of everything he’d done, he loved her now more than ever.

But she was deaf to his pleas, refusing to engage with him. And though the thought of facing the assembled journalists filled him with dread, he had eventually complied, pulling the small suitcase from the shelf in the wardrobe and throwing a few odds and ends into it. He never went away, never travelled for his work and it all seemed like a ghastly pantomime as he tossed his socks, shirts and toiletries into the suitcase, heading off on a journey that he had no desire to make.

Zapping the car open, he raised the boot and dropped the suitcase inside. It fell with a dull thud, the sound echoing off the brickwork that surrounded him. They’d only had the garage done a few months ago. It was supposed to be his space. What a pointless waste of money it seemed now.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and picked up the remote control for the garage doors. Was this it then? His departure from the family home? Inside was nothing but desolation and despair. And outside? A mass of prurient journalists, idlers and neighbours keen to enjoy his disgrace, not to mention two innocent boys who would never look at their dad in the same way again. It was hideous to contemplate.

Which is why he put down the remote control without pressing it, reaching instead for the car keys. Then, winding down all four windows, he sat back in his seat and, closing his eyes, started up the engine.