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“I’m fine. Why did you wake me?” I open my eyes and try to sit up.
“It’s ten in the morning. I thought you’d left again last night.”
“I didn’t mean to stay.” I look around, getting my bearings. “I’ll leave.”
“No, that’s not what I mean. Why don’t I make you some breakfast? We can talk.”
“I don’t want to talk, Mum.”
“Then what, Anna? You have gone completely off the rails. You’re taking drugs, drinking, you’ve blown off uni? It’s enough now. You can come back home, and you can sort yourself out. I’ll help. But I don’t think Jeremy is any good for you.”
She looks sad as she gives me her speech. But she loses me as soon as she mentions Jere.
“Whatever. I’m not listening to this. If you want me out, just say so.”
“Wow, hold on. I didn’t say that. The opposite, actually.”
“I’m not talking about Jeremy being bad for me.”
“Fine. What are you planning on doing in your gap year?” She stands and shoves her hands on her hips. “A job? Travel? Or did you make a snap decision because you were out of your head?”
“Just shut up, okay. I know what I’m doing. We know what we’re doing.” I throw the covers back and start grabbing at items of clothing, my phone, and my bag.
“Wait, Anna. Calm down.”
“No. I’m leaving.”
“Stop! You’re not leaving.” She grabs my arm and pulls me back.
“Get off of me!” I rage in her face, but she doesn’t let go.
My cheek explodes with fire. I look at her as she cups her mouth with her hands, shocked by her own actions.
Tears swim in her eyes as I look at her in shock.
She slapped me.
“Bitch.”
I race downstairs and out the door. There’s only one place I want to go, and I all but run towards his house, all the way there.
“Jeremy?” I call and shout as I look around the house. “Jeremy?” But there’s nobody here. I deflate, my chest aching and my cheek sore, but he’ll be back soon, so I wait in his room. My first call goes to voicemail. And so does the second, and I end up frantically calling him every few minutes, but each is the same. Where is he?
Doesn’t matter. I’m not going anywhere.
I stay at Jeremy’s house for two days with no sign of him or his mum. He doesn’t answer his phone or respond to voicemails, and every passing minute pushes me further out of my mind, like I’m losing all sense of reason.
On the third day, I can’t stay cooped up here, so I search the house, find the keys to his mum’s car, and drive to the only other place I can think of. He went to Cornwall last time he needed space, so I head to the Cove, just in case. But the house is locked up tight, with no sign anyone’s been here, and I don’t have a spare key.
I wait in the car for a while, tears streaming down my face, then go and check if the boat is at the jetty, racing to piece together something that might explain or give me a clue to where he might be.
The boat’s there, just as it’s been the last few times we’ve visited.
“Damn you, Jeremy!” I scream at the water. “Where are you?”
Realising I have nowhere else to look, I turn around and start the long drive home. Although I don’t go home. I go back to Jeremy’s.
Two more days pass, and my panic morphs into genuine fear. He wouldn’t just vanish. He’d tell me. He’d contact me.
