Echo-Foxtrot by Clare Revell Page B

going to use unless you eat that food.”
    Lou sighed and picked up the fork. The meal was delicious and she was hungry. It was just the principle of it. Jack wasn’t going to budge though, so she reluctantly began to eat.
    Jack watched every mouthful. When she had finished, he handed her the soda. “Drink,” he ordered.
    She did as she was told, not wanting to refuse, in case he made good on his threat to feed her.
    “Thank you. Now sit tight and don’t move a muscle. I’ll be right back.” Jack put the empty plates away and pushed her down the corridor.
    “Now what?” she asked.
    “Now we talk.”
    “There’s nothing to talk about.”
    Jack swung her round and backed through the double doors. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he told her. “You don’t want to talk to a counselor or your mom. Fine, but you’re going to talk to me. If nothing else, you can explain that idiotic stunt you just pulled.”

13
    Lou closed her eyes as Jack swung the chair around again and headed out into the sunshine. The sun was warm on her face and the wind blew her hair everywhere, but she didn’t care.
    Talking wasn’t going to help. The sooner he yelled at her and got it over with, the better it’d be. She sighed. And today had seemed so good at one point. Sitting in the sunshine and managing to do one thing for herself, then everything went downhill.
    She rested a hand on her stomach, suddenly realizing that she no longer felt hungry and the gnawing pain in her tummy had gone.
    Jack crossed the car park and headed into a building on the other side. He went through a few more fire doors and then stopped at a door at the end of the corridor. He took a key out of his pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed her inside.
    “Where are we?” she asked.
    “My quarters. We won’t be disturbed here.” Jack shut the door and pushed her across the room. He stopped the chair by the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked at her. “Talk to me,” he said.
    Lou glanced around the room. Her mother’s perfume and hairbrush sat on the dresser. Her robe was slung over the end of the bed and a small overnight bag rested on the chair. “Are you sure you’re not living with my mother?”
    “Quite sure.” Jack looked at her. “Lou, we’re both Christians and that kind of a relationship is designed for marriage only. At my place we have separate rooms.”
    “And here?”
    “I’m crashing in the guest quarters for now. It’s not ideal, but your mom needs to be near you and she wants me nearby too.” He paused. “So, wanna tell me why you’re so determined to leave now we’ve found you?”
    “I wasn’t leaving,” she whispered.
    Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled letter. He waved it at her. “What’s this then?” he demanded.
    Her stomach twisted. No… “Where did you get that?”
    “Dr. Andrews gave it to me—that’s why she wanted to see me. She said it had been left there for me.” He opened it and started reading. “ Jack. This is the fourth attempt to write this. I can’t even do that properly and if I can’t even write a simple letter, what chance do I have of doing anything right ever again? That’s why it has to be this way. It is better for everyone if I go now, before things go anymore wrong or crazy than they already have. It’s not fair on the others or on Mum for things to carry on the way they are right now. It has to be this way, don’t you see? There is no other way. I can’t do this anymore. I have reached the limit of what I can cope with. It’s too dark, the arguments with myself too loud. I can’t move or breathe. It’s all encompassing, all embracing. There is no way out—except one. The decision has been made. Fear has gone. Emptiness remains. Joy defeated, life vanquished, sorrow victorious. No point in carrying on. Take care of Mum. Lou. ”
    Lou sighed. She should have thrown the stupid note away. Things had changed since she’d written that. “You