Second Chances (14 page)

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Authors: Suzanne Miao

BOOK: Second Chances
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Chapter Twenty-Three

 

JACK OPENED HIS eyes blearily, curled up in a ball on his bed. How much puke could one person produce, anyway? And it wasn’t as if he’d eaten anything for 24 hours; surely there was nothing left in his guts by now. His stomach crunched and cramped, and he frantically scrabbled for the bucket again as a fresh heave of vomit shot out of his lips. Oh God, just kill me now, he thought, wiping his mouth with a face towel, which was beginning to fester and reek.

He
rolled onto his back, panting weakly. No, actually, on second thoughts, he decided, don’t kill me now. Not when I’ve just met her… He tried to think of Allegra, tried to remember what she was wearing or what she might have said to him the last time he saw her at Apex, anything to stop himself remembering yet another strained conversation he’d had with Abi only an hour ago.

‘Are you still throwing up?’ She had stood at the bedroom door, arms folded. Her lips curled with distaste and she’d had to breathe through her mouth to avoid being sick herself from the smell of Jack’s vomit.

‘Sweetheart, so glad you’re here… Can you bring me another bottle of water, please? And if you could pass me a clean t-shirt as well; I threw up on myself earlier this afternoon and I can’t move, baby, ’cos every time I do, I throw up again.’

Jack
smiled feebly and held his hand out to her. ‘I’m so happy to see you, I’ve been so miserable all day.’

Abi
had visibly recoiled. Did he really think she was going to touch him when he was this sick, never mind the fact that he and the entire flat stank to high heaven? She gritted her teeth, marched over to the chest of drawers next to his bed and dragged out a t-shirt, flung it at him and went into the kitchen to loudly wrench cupboard doors open before banging them shut again.

‘You don’t have any bottled water. You’ll have to drink tap water.’

‘I can’t do that, sweetness, my gut’s already heaving as it is, I don’t want to make it worse. Could you go to the shop and pick up some water for me, please? … Please?’

‘Sure, I can do that. But I’ll probably stop off at the pub first, see who’s around, have a drink or two. I’ll drop back here later with your water. You can wait, can’t you?’

Abi
was already heading to the door as she spoke.

‘Abi, please, I can’t wait… I’m so dehydrated from puking my guts up for the last 24 hours and there’s nothing to drink here except red wine.’ Jack couldn’t understand it. Why was she being like this?

‘Yeah, well, maybe if you were a bit more organised and sorted yourself out like I keep asking you to, and maybe if you actually went out once in a while instead of sitting here at home smoking yourself stupid and watching TV, maybe you’d have bottled water when you need it and a clean t-shirt to sleep in instead of one with sick all over it,’ she had snapped back at him.

‘God,
Jack, you always do this. You refuse to do anything you’re told to and then when you’re ill, you expect me to wait hand and foot on you. Well, I’m off to the pub. And if I remember, I’ll pick up some bottled water for you on my way back. Until then, you know where the kitchen tap is.’

Abi
had slammed the door behind her, and Jack felt another wave of projectile vomit make its way up his throat. Dammit, why, why, why? Racked with nausea and pain, he was aware, however, that Abi had been like this for a while. Quite a long time, actually. Short with him, always snapping, always telling him he wasn’t good enough or that he was doing something wrong. Too exhausted to think about it, he told himself that all couples in love had their bad patches, and they were just going through a bad patch. That was all.

He
fell asleep to fevered visions of Abi, Allegra, people he didn’t know, places he didn’t recognise. The only dream he would remember when he opened his eyes the next morning had Allegra in a long, white dress, standing in a green field dotted with daisies and daffodils, on a beautiful spring day.

He
could hear her laugh as the wind caught her hair. He strolled over towards her and, as she turned around, he saw she was carrying a baby in her arms, a baby with a tangle of dark blonde curls and laughing eyes that were as grey as his. He put his arms around them both, kissed them tenderly and woke up with a smile on his face, feeling a strange and unexpected sense of peace.

 

Chapter Twenty-Four

 

LIZ WAS SITTING at her usual spot outside The Cavern. Jeff swanned out with a glass of shiraz as soon as she sat down, and admired her sketches as she proudly showed them off to him. Allegra, the silly bint, always said every drawing she did looked like Jesus, even when it was patently obvious that it wasn’t. Liz had been going to art therapy for some months now and found that while the talking part of the sessions alternately bored or irritated her, she really enjoyed drawing and painting.

She
began carrying a sketchpad around with her all the time; focusing on trying to draw faces took her mind off things. Well, kept her mind off Gerard. And now, Luke. As she didn’t like sitting at home alone, she tended to gravitate out towards a bar. The Cavern was nice, even if its location in Lan Kwai Fong was a bit of a trek from her home on The Dark Side, as Hong Kongers liked to call Kowloon. Liz knew all the people who worked at The Cavern and they treated her well.

She
suddenly became aware that she was being watched. Looking up, she saw Clive and Jack standing on the other side of the road, waving at her. Checking the traffic, they crossed over to join her. Unsure if she was annoyed by the interruption or glad for the company, Liz shifted her bag off one of the chairs to make room for them.

‘So what are you two doing in Lan Kwai Fong on a Saturday night?’ she asked. ‘Out on a date with each other? Must say I’m not surprised about you, Clive. Always figured you were a bit of a shirt-lifter.’

‘Just finished filming down in Repulse Bay and thought we’d stop off for a drink before heading back over to Kowloon-side,’ Clive said. He ignored her jibe; Liz was like a broken record when it came to making cracks about his sexuality. He was straight as an arrow and she knew that. ‘Where’s a waiter when you need one?’

‘Who’dya have to root to get a drink around here?’ Jack suddenly bellowed, grinning.

‘Hey, that’s my line!’ protested Liz.

‘Yeah, I know it is,’ said Jack. ‘You’ve told me often enough.’

Clive
looked around, still unable to spot anyone to take their drinks order. ‘So who do you have to root to get a drink around here?’ he asked.

‘You have to go up to the window to get your own,’ Liz said. ‘Some stupid thing about them not being allowed to serve customers outside. So while the waiters can’t actually come to your table, you can still get a drink from the bar and sit here. Go figure. Hong Kong licensing laws. They make even less sense than you.’

‘Well, I won’t bother asking if you need another drink,’ Clive said. ‘I can see that you do, so… shiraz, is it? I’ll be back in a minute.’

He
got up to walk over to the counter to get the drinks, and Liz turned to Jack in some surprise. ‘He didn’t ask if you wanted one. That’s unusual for Clive, the Most Polite Man in the Universe,’ she said.

‘No worries; I’m finally getting over a hideous stomach bug which I had about three weeks ago,’ Jack said. ‘Clive knows I’m not drinking for the time being. And don’t call me a lightweight. If you’d been through what I just went through, I doubt you’d be drinking, either. Guts heaving all over the place. Very nasty.’

‘Huh, bollocks,’ Liz snorted. ‘I’ve had what you had before, and I found all I could keep down was alcohol. What does that say about me?’

‘That you’re an alcoholic?’ Jack replied with a laugh, and was rewarded by Liz flicking a ‘V’ sign at him.

Just
then, Clive returned with their drinks and caused a major distraction by trying to have a look at Liz’s sketchpad. She shoved it back into her bag and glared at him.

‘Mind your own business; you don’t see me rummaging through your personal stuff to have a look, do you?’ she said, angrily.

‘Sorry, sorry, no need to get your knickers in a knot,’ Clive said. ‘I was just interested, that’s all.’

‘And you should know me well enough by now to not go poking your nose in where it doesn’t belong,’ Liz said, scowling. ‘If I wanted you to see my sketches, I’d have shown them to you.’

Jack
glanced surreptitiously at his watch. He had no wish to be caught in the middle of a sniping battle between Liz and Clive; that kind of thing did his head in. And weren’t the two of them meant to be old friends? Well, whatever it was, maybe that’s how their relationship worked, but he was too tired to care, and starting to feel shaky from the 12-hour shoot he and Clive had just been on. He scraped his chair back and stood up.

‘Listen, mate, I’m knackered, so I’m going to head on back home,’ he said to Clive. ‘No, you stay; finish your drink. And Liz, it was nice to bump into you; hope to hear from you soon… any more projects coming up for me at Apex?’

Liz
sighed. Work, why must they talk about work? Not that she didn’t love what she did. Apex PR was her baby; she’d built it single-handedly, without a stroke of help from anyone. It had been hard to get people to trust her, but she’d lucked out when she landed the assignment for a fledgling restaurant group that was looking to transform a run-down, seedy area of Hong Kong into a thriving strip of bars and dining establishments. Now, the restaurant group was worth hundreds of millions of dollars, and Apex had taken its share of profit from that success. From there, things just got better.

‘Yes, we’ve got a couple of big events scheduled over the next few months,’ she said to Jack. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll be hearing from Rose to set up our briefings.’

She
noticed Clive looking expectantly at her; after all, he’d been working with Apex for far longer than Jack had. ‘Fine, yes, you too. But you’d better not piss me off again.’

‘Thanks sweetie, I know you love me really,’ Clive said, blowing her a kiss. He was used to Liz and her volatile moods; he was, for the most part, genuinely fond of her, although he did occasionally feel she could do with a good talking-to now and then.

‘Right, okay, and with that… adieu!’ Jack gave them a little salute and departed. Liz felt a twinge of pain; his simple “adieu” unexpectedly brought back a memory of the night she left Paris, knowing she’d never see Gerard again. Suddenly deflated, she turned to Clive and smiled weakly.

‘Sorry if I bit your head off,’ she said. ‘Just been feeling a bit lousy, that’s all. And I wasn’t expecting to see anyone this evening, so you caught me off guard.’

‘…And ruined your karma, yes, I understand,’ said Clive, smiling back at her. ‘Listen, I was wondering, do you want to come watch a play with me next week? I can’t remember what it’s called, but it allegedly stars Hong Kong’s twelve finest actors.’

Liz
laughed. Clive might be annoying as hell sometimes, but he always meant well. ‘That can’t be right, can it?’ she replied. ‘You’re not in it, so it doesn’t star Hong Kong’s twelve finest actors. Maybe it stars eleven of them, plus one crappy one. Whichever way, it’s false advertising and on those grounds alone, I think we should definitely go so that I can sit in the back row and hiss “get off the stage!” very loudly every time an actor comes on.’

‘Or, “call that acting? You couldn’t act your way out of a paper bag!”,’ said Clive, beginning to chuckle.

‘Or how about, “does this sick feeling ever go away?”’, Liz responded, also starting to laugh. ‘Oh, oh, I got another one — “you act like a homo!”’

“I refuse to sit next to you if you shout that out loud,’ Clive said. ‘I don’t fancy getting my head kicked in. And I don’t think you can pass it off as a compliment, even if you pointed out that some of our finest working actors today are gay.’

While
Liz and Clive continued chatting late into the night, Jack got back home to a dark flat. Abi hadn’t wanted to come over, saying he’d be too tired after a long day’s filming to be any fun. Anyway, she was planning to go to Joe Bananas with her girlfriends.

Jack
dropped his bag on the floor as Honey, his puppy, came running up to greet him. He’d rescued her when she was tiny; someone had tied her to a lamp-post with a piece of string, binding it around one of her little paws so tightly that it had cut through to the bone, creating a deep, infected wound. Furious that someone could have done something like that to such a helpless creature, Jack had snapped the string and taken her home to nurse her back to health.

Honey
was now a beautiful, bouncy little puppy who was always happy. Jack picked her up and cuddled her. At least someone was glad to see him.

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

BELLA
AND DAISY were slowly making their way down the confectionery aisle in the supermarket, studiously examining the chocolates and sweets on offer before making their choices and putting them into Allegra’s shopping cart. She’d picked up a crusty French baguette, a small wedge of brie and had decided to indulge herself with a sliver of green peppercorn pâté. The girls had also selected a couple of sausage rolls for themselves as well, not being too fond of either brie or pâté.

A
few household items and they were done, taking their place in what they hoped would be the shortest and fastest queue at the checkout tills.

‘Mummy! … Mummy!’ Bella hissed, tugging at her sleeve.

‘What is it, sweetie?’ Allegra asked absently. She’d been distracted by the celebrity gossip magazine she’d picked up to read while queuing, and planned to drop on the shelf before reaching the cashier so she wouldn’t have to buy it.

‘That man!’ Bella’s tone was more urgent now; even Daisy had turned around to look at the man Bella was referring to, slightly alarmed.

‘What about the man?’ Allegra asked, warily. She’d brought the children up to be careful about strangers, but not suspicious. She wanted them cautious, not paranoid.

‘Well, he keeps looking at us…’ Bella whispered. ‘Do you know him, mummy?’

Allegra
turned to glance over her shoulder as discreetly as she could and then relaxed, putting the magazine down to wave at Jack, who lifted his hand in greeting.

‘Yes, honey, mummy knows him. That’s Jack, I’ve worked with him on a couple of projects. I’m sure you’ve heard me mention him?’

Allegra
hadn’t seen Jack for a few weeks; the girls had been busy at school with class outings and sports days and concerts, and so she hadn’t been into Apex for a while. Now, seeing him here gave her a jolt, but she had her kids with her; she could hardly shun him, could she? Anyway, it wasn’t as if they’d ever been lovers, or had a fight, or anything. Jack had just been… out of reach, that’s all. She didn’t allow herself to think about that night at The Cavern when he kissed her. Besides, she was pleased to see him again. He was sweet, dippy, and she’d missed him.

Jack
had left his queue and come to join theirs, beaming at Allegra’s daughters and very solemnly offering his hand for them to shake.

‘Let’s see… You must be Bella, you’re the biggest, and you’re the one with the funky blue glasses. And you’re Daisy, smaller with crazy, curly hair,’ he said. The girls giggled. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Jack. I know your mum. She’s very cool, isn’t she?’

‘Mummy’s not cool, she’s the best mummy in the world,’ Bella corrected him. ‘I know that because it’s true.’

‘I’m very sure she’s the best mummy in the world,’ Jack agreed, seriously. ‘And she’s told me you two are the best little girls in the world.’

‘Really?’ Bella asked. She was always secretly pleased whenever she learned that her mum had mentioned them to her grown-up friends.

‘Mummy…’ This time it was Daisy whispering, tugging at Allegra’s sleeve. ‘He’s that man.’

‘Which man?’ Allegra whispered back, kneeling down to look at her.

‘He’s that man that you like.’ Daisy had forgotten to lower her voice, and Allegra felt her face go crimson; Jack must surely have heard. But how on Earth could Daisy know she liked Jack? She was sure she’d never mentioned him at all except in the most casual, fleeting terms.

‘Daisy…’ she began, but the young girl was more insistent now.

‘He is, mummy! I rememorise his voice! He’s that man on the radio that you like, the one at night-time when we’ve gone to bed and you think we’re asleep,’ Daisy said, firmly. ‘I’m very good at rememorising voices.’

Allegra
slowly stood up and looked at Jack. Of course. Jack. Jackson Flye. The voice on the radio. How could she not have put two and two together? It had taken a six-year-old to point out the screamingly obvious to her.

‘Jack? You’re Jackson Flye? Really? How come you never mentioned it?’ she asked him.

‘Guilty as charged… Don’t be mad, I don’t like telling anyone, especially if I’m lucky enough that they don’t rememorise my voice from the radio when they meet me for the first time,’ he said, grinning at Daisy, who puffed up proudly. ‘You’re a very astute little girl, Miss Daisy.’

‘Oh my God, I love your show! You have such a great voice on the radio…’ Allegra stopped abruptly as she blushed again, remembering how many nights she had spent fantasising about Jackson Flye and what he looked like and how good a kisser he might be. And that was when she wasn’t fantasising about Jack and how good a kisser he might be. Oh God, double embarrassment.

‘See? That’s why I prefer not to announce who I am,’ Jack said, grinning. ‘I find most people turn into gibbering idiots and start gushing about how much they love my show, or they start haranguing me about how dare I give advice to the lovelorn when I am not in the least qualified in any way.’

‘ “Lovelorn” is not a real word,’ Bella suddenly chipped in, sounding stern. ‘It’s “lovely”. My mummy is lovely. That’s a sentence you can make with that word. So you should have said you give advice to the lovely. “Lovelorn” is wrong.’

Allegra
and Jack stifled their laughter. Bella had corrected him and immediately lost interest, turning her attention back to the copy of Elle Girl she had picked up for herself, showing Daisy an article she had found on their favourite singer/actress, Hilary Duff.

Allegra
smiled at Jack. He was good with kids, good to her kids. He hadn’t flinched or avoided them, hadn’t ignored them or talked to them patronisingly. He’d probably be a good father, she thought, suddenly feeling a pang of sadness.

‘So… what are you doing here? Parkview is not your normal stomping ground, is it?’ she asked him.

‘Visiting my mum. She’s at the Adventist just up the road,’ he said.

Allegra
mentally kicked herself. Of course. She’d heard through Clive, of all people, who had a friend who was a nurse at the hospital, that Jack’s mother was a patient there.

‘Oh… I’m sorry, how is she?’ she asked, hesitantly. She never knew what to say, never knew if she should make polite enquiries or if the person would prefer not to talk about the fact that they had a desperately ill mother in hospital.

‘She’s comfortable. Nicely battered up on morphine at the moment, and out for the count,’ said Jack. ‘That’s why I’m here. Picking up a bit of lunch. Couldn’t face cafeteria food again, all that no-fat, good-for-heart-patients stuff.’

Allegra
glanced into his almost-empty basket, ‘You’re having a Mars bar for lunch?’ she asked.

‘Food of the gods,’ Jack said, with a laugh. ‘Been a bit ill too, and all I seem to want to eat since then is chocolate.’

Allegra
picked up the Mars bar, dropped it into her trolley and said, ‘Okay, you’re joining us for lunch. We don’t live far from here, and you can take a taxi back to the hospital afterwards. How’s that?’

She
turned to Bella and Daisy. ‘Is it okay if Uncle Jack joins us for lunch?’

‘Oh God, don’t make them call me “Uncle Jack”,’ he groaned. ‘Girls, you can just call me Jack, okay? And if you don’t want me to disturb your lunch with mummy, that’s okay. I’ll just go sit on a cold bench somewhere by the side of the road and eat my Mars bar, all alone.’

He
made a sad face, pouting his lower lip, pulling down the corner of one eye. Daisy giggled. She liked this silly man. Bella, on the other hand, was a little less forthcoming.

‘There are no benches on the side of the road, don’t talk nonsense,’ she said, severely. ‘And you can only come if you don’t mind watching The Wiggles with us on TV. Daisy wants to see The Wiggles while we eat and we already watched Will & Grace at breakfast because I wanted to, so she gets to choose what we watch at lunchtime. You like The Wiggles, don’t you?’

Jack
kept his face straight, sensing this was some sort of test he was being given before Bella, all of nine years old, would grudgingly allow him to intrude on their small family weekend.

‘I love The Wiggles. Jeff is my favourite. I like his purple t-shirts, and he falls asleep all the time, just like me,’ he said, solemnly.

Thrilled,
Daisy immediately slipped her hand into his. ‘I like Jeff best too. Do you like Captain Feathersword?’ she asked, anxiously.

‘Love him. And Dorothy the Dinosaur. And Wags the Dog. And especially the Big Red Car. One day when I grow up, I want a car just like that. You can come for a ride, if you like.’

Allegra
had to marvel at his ease with her children, not to mention his rather worrying familiarity with the entire cast of The Wiggles. Bella carefully closed her magazine and placed it in the trolley, folded her arms over her chest and looked at him.

‘Okay, then you can come. But you’re not allowed to sing during The Wiggles, unless Daisy says you can. And you have to wash your own plate. That’s the rule in our house. Mummy said.’

‘I promise to be good,’ Jack said, squeezing Daisy’s hand. ‘Thank you, Bella, for allowing me to join you for lunch. This makes it a very special day for me.’

‘That’s okay. I hope your mummy gets better soon,’ said Bella, graciously. ‘It’s not nice when mums are ill.’

As
Bella and Daisy busied themselves placing items on the conveyor belt for the cashier to sweep over the sensor, Allegra turned to Jack and took his hand.

‘Thank you for being so good to them,’ she said. ‘You’ve made their day, that one of mummy’s grown-up friends would talk to them so seriously…. But how on earth do you know so much about the bloody Wiggles?’

Jack
squeezed her hand in return. ‘I have a five-year-old nephew who wants to be Captain Feathersword when he grows up. Won’t watch anything but The Wiggles on TV. Drives me insane when I’m baby-sitting him, but I find it comes in useful when I need to win over the hearts of small children who are being overly-protective of their mother.’

The
four of them spent a pleasant couple of hours back at Allegra’s place, eating their simple lunch, the kids engrossed in The Wiggles while Jack and Allegra sat on the tiny balcony, watching the ships and boats go past. Later, the kids were laughing, chattering to each other, occasionally calling out to mum to help them with their word-search puzzles; sometimes Daisy would bring hers out to Jack and they’d pore over it together. He’d pretend he couldn’t find the word, discreetly helping Daisy locate it, and loving it when she broke out in giggles that she managed to find a word which he apparently couldn’t.

When
it came time to for Jack to head back to the hospital, Bella had surprised them all by hugging him and telling him he must come back again for lunch soon, and that they would cook scrambled eggs on toast for him. Daisy, meanwhile, had offered him her puzzle book and a pencil, saying that maybe he might get bored at the hospital so he could do some word-searches.

Jack
gravely accepted all the offers, kissed Allegra on the cheek and waved them off. It had turned out to be a most unusual day, he thought, yet he felt oddly reassured and comforted. He liked Bella and Daisy, and he liked their mum. A lot.

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