PART TWENTY-FIVE

Ice-cold wind lashed at Jac's face as she guided her motorbike down lane after lane; her cheeks were bright red and felt sore to the touch. It had started to rain heavily; tremendous globules of water splattered all over her helmet and showered her until she was drenched from head to foot. None of this seemed to faze her, however as her mind was focussed on only one thing and nothing would stop her. She was drawing closer to her destination and she kept the bike going at full pelt. The wind grew stronger and as she turned on to the next lane, she found herself riding into the gusts so that they blew the freezing rain directly into her face; her visor began to cloud up and Jac knew she would have to slow down but her mind was determined.

Jac's heart skipped a beat; the back wheel of her bike had suddenly skidded so violently that a lesser-skilled rider would surely have been thrown over the top. She let out a deep breath and carried on. She brought the bike to a slower pace and turned it inward up a small country path that led to a small cottage.

The walls of the cottage were enveloped in a dark green moss and pale ivy had snaked its way up the corners and wrapped around the chimney in a tight hug. Jac brought her bike to a halt and propped it up with the stand. She climbed down from the sodden seat; a sigh of relief escaped from her as she removed the heavy helmet and let her hair down. Her hair was the only part of her that was still even vaguely dry and as she stepped across the gravel, she felt her legs begin to shake and her lips tremble uncontrollably.

Now that she was closer to the cottage, Jac could make out the faint signs of faded yellow paint that lurked beneath the layerings of moss. A battered wooden sign was nailed above the front door and read, in dark grey letters: Beaver Burrow

"She would choose to live here," Jac muttered to herself. She tutted and brought her hand up to the brass knocker. Jac swallowed a great gulp of air and rapped the knocker on the door three times.

"All right, I'm coming!" The unmistakable sound of Paula Burrows voice drifted from inside the cottage and Jac could hear her mother scrambling to the front door. Jac waited on the doorstep with her arms folded; the rain had eased off at last but the wind was still biting and gnawing at every inch of her that was exposed.

"Jacqueline," said Paula as she opened the door and stared into Jac's narrowed eyes. Paula did not seem to be surprised by her daughter's presence as Jac traipsed into the hallway and dragged wet mud and gravel over the doormat. Paula examined the bedraggled state of her daughter and stared out at where Jac had parked her bike. "You didn't ride all the way here did you?" Her voice was a mixture of exasperation and a quiet impress.

"What of it?" Jac asked, irritated. Paula smiled sweetly, unnerving Jac as she was led down the hallway into the kitchen.

"Just hang your jacket on the back of that chair," Paula pointed to a wooden chair at the far end of the table.

"I'm not stopping long," replied Jac, refusing to unzip the jacket.

"Suit yourself," Paula murmured and for a moment she appeared to have returned to type but when she looked up at Jac again it was with the same sickeningly sweet smile she had used in the hallway. "So what can I do for you then Jackie?"

"I need the truth," replied Jac and Paula could see the sheer determination edged across her daughter's features. Paula frowned.

"What truth?"

"About Simon." Paula froze and for a brief second, a cloud of doubt passed over her face; Jac knew that she caught her mother off guard. It wasn't long, however for Paula to regain her composure and fix Jac with an icy stare. Jac flinched; it was only the stare of her mother that had any affect on her. Anyone else and Jac would just laugh it off or retaliate with a carefully chosen, but often bitchy, comment. Paula knew just the effect her single stare could have and she used it to her full advantage.

"What about him?" Paula's voice was no longer honeyed; it cut through the air between them and suggested in no uncertain terms that Paula would be unwilling to impart any more information than was necessary. Jac opened her mouth to speak but no sound came out. She ran her hand through her hair and she could feel the prickles springing up all over her face; her legs were twitching and she wasn't able to form the right words. "I haven't got all day Jac," Paula told her as though she was speaking to a young girl and suddenly Jac felt twelve years old again. Paula seemed to tower over Jac as her daughter cowered away, trembling with a childlike fear.

She wasn't in this room anymore; Jac opened her eyes. She was standing in a dark, dingy kitchen; the light had died but Jac could make out her younger self sitting at the table. Her legs didn't seem to reach the floor; they hung uselessly in the air, thin and pale. She wore navy blue socks, plain and unassuming. This was a Jac who had had her whole identity stripped away from her. As Jac stared at her, she saw that she had buried her head in her hands and was sobbing quietly. Her auburn hair flowed down to her shoulders but it was unkempt as though it hadn't been brushed for some time. Jac's footsteps echoed as she stepped towards her younger self; to her surprise, the younger Jac lifted her head up and stared back at her through tearstained eyes.

"Have you come to take me away?" The younger Jac's voice was high-pitched and broken by the loud sniffles of her nose. Jac's heart burned in her chest as she pulled up a chair beside the girl and sat down.

"Take you away?" Jac asked. The girl nodded and fresh new tears rolled down her cheek.

"Because I'm all alone," she answered. "I'm not allowed to be on my own." Jac reached out and took hold of her hand; it seemed odd that she could touch it at all, this was only a memory.

"Who's looking after you?"

"My mother," said the girl but she sounded unsure; Jac looked around the kitchen. She peered at the piles of dirty crockery sticking out of the sink and the stains of food on the table. "She said she wouldn't be long," the girl said as she spotted Jac frowning at the overflowing bin in the corner.

"How long have you been left here?"

"She only went to town, she'll be coming back soon," she sounded so sure of her words that Jac felt the return of a pang in her heart; a pain she had dealt with a long time ago.

"When did she go?" Jac knew the answers to all her questions but it was still hard to hear the words spoken as if she were nothing more than a stranger.

"I don't know. Where's my mum?" Jac didn't answer, there wasn't any answer she could give. "Why's she just left me here?" The girl was pleading but there was nothing Jac could do; she had never felt so helpless. "Doesn't she want me?" Jac wanted to break down and cry with the girl but she couldn't, she had to be the one who held it all together just as she had done so many times.

"I don't know," said Jac softly. "I wish I had the answers for you but I don't." She struggled to keep her voice steady but the girl could hear the tiny cracks that unravelled everything.

"Please don't cry," she said. "Adults aren't supposed to cry."

"Adults cry," Jac told her. "We just try to keep it hidden from our children."

"Why?"

"We don't want you to see behind closed doors."

"But I don't understand."

"Adults are supposed to be strong, we're supposed to know what to do. We're meant to have the answers, we're meant to be there when you need us but that's not the truth of it." The girl wiped away her tears; she was looking at Jac with the curious interest of a child now.

"What is the truth?"

"We make mistakes, we choose the wrong things. We try to do our best and sometimes doing our best means hurting our children but it doesn't mean we love you any less. Being an adult is hard, the weight of so much expectation and sometimes we crack under the pressure. Sometimes we can't put it all right because the pieces don't fit together in the same way any more. Your mother loves you, she just wasn't strong enough to stay. You'll see her again one day and I'm sorry, I'm really really sorry, it's going to hurt worse than any pain you've ever experienced. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"Never give up. Hide the tears and the pain."

"I promise."

"And remember, you won't be alone forever. It's not going to be easy but you're going to grow up and you'll be the best surgeon in the country. I promise, you will change so many lives, so many people will live because of you. That's the truth. Never stop believing that you can change the world." The girl squeezed Jac's hand but the next second she seemed to fade away and Jac felt her head spinning as she was thrust back into the kitchen where her mother glared menacingly at her.

"Pull yourself together," Jac snapped at herself.

"You zoned out for a second," Paula said and if Jac had dared to hope, there was the tiniest indication of concern in her mother's voice.

"Just a memory," answered Jac. "Nothing important." Paula knew her daughter well enough to know when she was lying but there was no reason to press the point. Jac hadn't come here to discuss memories.

"You wanted to know about Simon," she said after a long pause.

"He told me something, something about you," replied Jac but she was uncertain and her insides had knotted up because there was a part of her that didn't want to know the truth. Sometimes it was better to live in ignorance.

"About me?" Jac thought about it for a moment and she began to walk towards the door. "Jac, what is it?" Paula's voice was distant.

"It doesn't matter."

"Talk to me Jac."

"Just forget it." Jac gave one last look back at her mother's worried face and smiled faintly. Ignorance was bliss, Jac thought as she walked down the hallway and stepped out into the frozen air. Something cold and wet landed on her cheek and Jac glanced up into the sky; it was snowing.

Jasmine knocked on the door and waited for Jonny to answer. Sacha stood behind her, holding an umbrella up so that the snow was deflected away. There were lights on inside; evidently someone was at home. Jasmine hoped that Jac would answer and all her fears would have been for nothing. She brought her hand up to knock again but the handle turned and pulled the door open inwardly. Jasmine's heart sank. It was Jonny who stood in the doorway. He smiled when he saw them and beckoned them inside.

"What can I do for you?" They were ushered into the kitchen; Jonny had kept it spotless and Jasmine saw how the crockery sparkled and shone in the rack where it had been left to dry. "Were you looking for Jac, she's not here at the moment," Jonny looked up at the clock and his features curled into a slight frown. Jasmine stepped forward awkwardly and offered Jac's phone for Jonny to take.

"She left it behind," Jasmine explained as Jonny shot her a confused look.

"You were in the ED?"

"Only briefly," Jasmine lied; she didn't feel now was the best time to explain exactly why she had been there. "There's something else." Jonny recognised the anxiety in her voice and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He looked from Jasmine to Sacha who stood with his back against the wall, his fingers twirling around the handle of his umbrella absentmindedly.

"What's going on?" Jonny forced himself to remain calm but already a creeping fear was edging itself up inside him. "Where's Jac?" Jasmine opened her mouth but it was Sacha who answered as he stepped out from the shadows.

"We don't know," he said; he sounded solemn and there was no reassuring smile to ease Jonny's worries.

The snow was falling heavily now and Jac could make out the telltale signs of black ice forming over the roads. She urged her bike around a particularly dangerous looking patch and sped down the lane; she was nearly onto the main road and from there it was a straight stretch for most of the way home. None of the snow appeared to be settling; the ground was probably too wet, Jac thought. It was bitterly cold, however and Jac was desperate to get home. She had other reasons as well, not least because she hadn't seen Hollie since the early hours of the morning. She pushed the bike on and her speed started to increase. Everything faded to black.

"You told me everything would be all right!" Jac looked around for the source of the voice but the room was pitch black except for the tiny illumination of a bedside lamp. A 15-year old girl was sitting on the edge of her bed, her green eyes ablaze with a fearsome fury. Realisation dawned on Jac as she realised who the girl was. The teenage Jac's hair was brighter in colour than Jac's and shorter. Jac drew closer to the girl and she saw that her arms were covered in cigarette burns.

"I said it would take time," Jac whispered and her eyes drifted away from the burn marks; she could not bare to be reminded of them.

"Nobody wants me," the teenage Jac whispered back at her. "I'm always the last one left in the cold." Jac remembered how she had felt on that day and she thought about the indignity of being shoved from one foster family to the next. She never stayed in one place for long and was often put straight back into care. "I don't want to stay here."

"Why?"

"I don't belong here."

"You'll belong if you want to," Jac told her but the girl just scowled and looked away.

"Nobody wants me," she said again. "Nobody cares." Jac glanced at the biology textbook propped open on the bedside table.

"What are you studying?"

"Cells," replied the girl. Jac smiled.

"Enjoying it?"

"It's all right I guess." She leant over and slammed the book shut. "I'm being moved tomorrow." Jac was silent as she looked around the cream-coloured walls of the bedroom; they were bare and showed little sign that anyone lived here. "They said I had to go, that they couldn't cope with me any more."

"Did they tell you why?"

"Because of what I did." The girl pointed at the marks on her arms. "I just wanted to make the pain stop."

"But it never does," murmured Jac. The girl nodded.

"So I'm being sent back, back to be with all the other children that nobody wants."

"It won't be for long," Jac told her. "Trust me."

"I had a fight." A light seemed to switch itself on in the back of Jac's mind; she remembered the girl she had fought with, it all seemed so inconsequential now. "She said my mother left me because I'm a freak."

"You shouldn't listen to what other people think."

"It's true though, isn't it?"

"She had her reasons for leaving," that was all Jac could tell her; she still didn't know what her mother's reasons had been.

"I know it was because of me."

"Stop thinking like that," Jac said firmly. "Self-pity gets you nowhere. It's a cruel, hard world and the only one who'll protect you, is you."

"I shouldn't have hit her."

"Mistakes are just a part of growing up. We learn from them and we move on."

"What do I do now?" The girl looked up at Jac; her eyes betraying the terror that lay behind them.

"You have to belong."

"But I d-"

"You have to try."

"I'm calling the police," Jonny was frantic but as he reached into his pocket, Jasmine knocked his hand away.

"Not yet, give her some more time," she implored. Jonny looked at her doubtfully but then he nodded. Sacha brought over a mug of fresh tea and placed it down in front of him.

"She'll turn up," said Sacha with a glint of his familiar optimism. "I know Jac, she probably just had some stuff to work through."

"But her mother-"

"Trust me, Jac's stronger than we think." Sacha and Jasmine exchanged dark looks but they were both focussed on preventing Jonny from panicking.

"I bet she'll walk through that front door any minute now and wonder what we're all doing in here," Jasmine reassured Jonny. He took a sip of tea and sat back in the chair; his shoulders relaxed and he seemed to breathe normally again.

"Of course you're right. There's no need to get worked up." He didn't sound entirely sure, however but there was really nothing that he could do. The kitchen fell silent as they waited. Time seemed to tick by so slowly now and a couple of times Jonny had looked up at the clock, he could have sworn that it had somehow gone backwards.

It was nearly 10 o'clock when Jac finally returned home. She opened the front door, placed her helmet on the table and was about to hang up her jacket when Jonny came racing into the hall and threw his arms around her. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her but as he felt her warmth against his, all thought of them had faded from his mind.

"I'm okay," Jac told him when they had finally broken apart. Jonny looked up at her; he could see that she really wasn't okay at all but he knew that Jac would talk when she was ready.

"Sacha and Jasmine are here-" Jonny began but he saw that there was no reason to explain; they were both standing behind him.

"We were just leaving," Sacha said. "Come here." Sacha embraced Jac. She didn't need to say anything, her eyes told a hundred stories and as she watched Sacha and Jasmine close the door behind them, Jac thought back to her childhood and a sudden realisation struck her. She'd survived.

"She's asleep," Jonny said when Jac turned her gaze on him.

"I'll just check on her."

Jac pushed open the door to Hollie's bedroom and stepped quietly inside. She stared down at the sleeping face of her daughter and her cheeks blushed with pride. For a few moments, Jac was silent as she watched; there were no words that could convey what she felt. She could feel Hollie's breathing and hear the beating of her heart.

"I'll always be here for you," whispered Jac delicately. There was a scuffled movement behind her and she turned to see Jonny standing in the doorway.

TO BE CONTINUED