Page 12 of The Fall I Fell

Jacob looked up from his plate with a grin. He was missing one of his front teeth and he poked his tongue in the gap. ‘I like that,’ he murmured, but only loud enough so I could hear.

Both of us were grateful when the topic of conversation shifted to Will and his upcoming year 6 SATs tests. Jacob finished his meal with a little glow in his face.

When all of the plates were cleared away and coffee had been offered to Granny and Grandad, Jacob and I finally had our opportunity to escape. We pulled on our wellies and I grabbed my jacket, but as always, Jacob braved the chill evening with bare arms and bare legs.

‘You really are a wolf, aren’t you?’ I said as he led me. ‘Adapt to any sort of climate, snowy, wet, or warm.’

He shook his head, but threw it back to howl into the night.

‘Alright, Wolfie, my ears are ringing now.’ I rubbed my left lobe with a smile.

When we reached the barn, he paused for a moment at the door. ‘I’m telling you, she’s fast. Even if you do get near her, I reckon she’s a biter, or a scratcher at the very least. You sure you’re ready?’

I nodded eagerly. If Jacob wasn’t scared of grumpy badgers, I wasn’t going to be scared of a tiny kitten. He slid the barn door open, but the insides were shrouded in darkness. Jacob wandered in as though he’d memorised the steps he needed to take. Reluctant to follow him, I waited for a moment, working up the courage and convincing myself that there are no monsters in barns – just a cute kitten. At the very worst, there could be rats, and I was sure the friend we’d come to see must have dealt with them already.

Jacob emerged from the darkness with two torches in hand, and passed one over to me. ‘Come on,’ he whispered. ‘I can hear her near the grain.’

Following the path we marked out with our lights, we tiptoed around machinery and hay bales until Jacob silently gestured to the sack of grain in the corner. On top of it, a tiny tortoiseshell kitten was curled up into the folds. Its tiny belly, bloated from whatever Jacob had fed her earlier, rose and fell with each of her deep sleepy breaths.

Looking to Jacob, I could just about make out the features of his face in the glow of the torch. He was cracking a smile. I was sure my own face was a sight to behold. I couldn’t decide whether to squeal or cry, so I did neither, and I could feel all the pent-up emotion burn on my cheeks as I widened my eyes and mouth.

Jacob gestured with his head for me to take a step forward. Approaching slowly, I held my breath, trying not to let even a single exhale disturb her. When I was within touching distance, I slowly reached for the little slither of chicken that I had stashed away in my pocket from dinner. Very carefully, I held it out towards her nose. The little pink button twitched once, twice, and then she peeled her eyes open. As soon as she spotted the meat, she set to work, chewing away as though she hadn’t eaten for days. With one piece down, I fished out another, and another, until she was happy enough to let me stroke a single finger down her back. The fur rippled at my touch and I shivered with the contact. I looked back at Jacob with a mix of triumph and smugness, but he only watched on in wonder, as though he’d just watched me land a triple backflip off the top of the tractor.

Once all my chicken was spent, I sat down on the floor, a dusting of old wheat and grain under me. I could feel each scrap poking painfully, but I didn’t care. I encouraged Jacob to sit down beside me, and he did exactly that. Still holding my breath, I waited, and waited, until the fabric of the grain sack we were leaning against crinkled, and a small sleek shadow leaped down. The cat crawled into my lap with a stretch and a purr.

‘I think I’ll call her Hope,’ I whispered.

‘Amazing,’ Jacob breathed in a whisper, careful not to scare her away so soon. ‘If I’m a wolf, then I’m sure you must be part-cat.’ He hummed for a moment and then added quietly, ‘Kitty.’

I couldn’t hide my grin. I was someone’s special person.

Chapter 7

Now

Words fail me as I’m face to face with Jacob for the first time since that night. So much has changed, and he’s right. I have missed so much. Too much.

Though his presence feels like home, the man who shuffles around me now to take a look at the tractor might as well be a stranger. Completely unruffled by our meeting, he sets to fixing the tractor without another word to me. For a moment, I’m stunned. This is the same boy that would brave storms just to make sure he didn’t miss a day with me in the treehouse. We would lie in the tracks of cabbage fields for hours just to have a moment where no one else could bother us. Now, he hardly smiles, hardly even looks at me.

I’m no longer the lone wolf’s special person, the one person he lets in. No, I suppose he has Pen now. Jacob doesn’t need me any more. So how do I tell him I need him now more than ever?

‘Thanks, William.’ Grandad claps him on the back and Jacob smiles, but doesn’t correct him. Grandad has never been good with names. He calls me by Mum’s name more often than not, or Granny’s, though he hasn’t done that for a while. I can’t blame him when he mixes up the Thorogood boys when there’s just about three years between the eldest and youngest.

‘How long have you had this bit of kit, Harry?’ Jacob asks as he lifts the bonnet and throws half his body over it.

‘Oh, I don’t know lad. Ten years? Maybe?’ Grandad rubs at the stubble on his chin, trying to remember.

‘Surely not. You had this hunk of junk when we moved to Hope Farm, and it was old even then.’

‘Ah, yes. Probably twenty then, son.’ Then he narrows his eyes. ‘You watch what you say about my Betty. They used to build things to last, not like all the plastic crap they give you these days. No, she’s got plenty of life in her yet.’

Jacob extracts a metallic piece that’s almost unrecognisable from the rust. I can’t even be sure if it’s something that’s supposed to stay in there or if it’s meant to be pulled out. Grandad chunters to himself, then pretends to act busy as he runs his hands along Betty’s body work.

With Grandad far enough away for his hearing aid to pick us up, I finally work up a little courage to speak again. ‘How have you been?’

Jacob doesn’t surface from the engine. ‘Yeah alright.’ His voice seems to echo around the machinery and he taps away at various parts.

‘I was hoping I’d see you at dinner the other night.’ I rock back and forth on my heels, my stomach growing more and more unsettled. Things have never been this awkward.