Flamethroat by Kate Bloomfield Page A

here – in a pretty little apartment above an apothecary, with friendly people. With Jack.
    ‘ Do you want to stay? ’ I asked slowly.
    Jack winced slightly at the implications of things unsaid, ‘ I don ’ t know. ’
    My heart began to pound loudly against my chest. I did not like where this conversation was going one bit, yet I could not be selfish, Jack had been fatherless for much longer than I had.
    ‘ I want you to be happy, ’ I said finally. ‘ Don ’ t worry about me. If you want to stay – I won ’ t stop you. ’
    ‘ Over the years I have dreamed about this day a million times. I ’ ve gone over the things I would say and do in my head. I ’ ve fantasised about finding my father and having a family again. I used to dream about playing catch, fishing, hiking or just talking with my Dad. It was all I ever wanted for a long time. Sometimes, I would even talk to him as though he was there with me. I would tell him of my achievements and imagine him to be proud of me. ’
    I smiled at Jack, fascinated with this personal revelation. ‘ I understand. ’
    ‘ But then I met you, ’ Jack said quickly, as though desperate to say everything that was on his mind before he lost his nerve. ‘ Everything changed. Gradually, I stopped thinking about where my father was and whether he was alive or not. I lost interest in finding him. I stopped talking as though he was there. Instead, I would imagine you were there. ’
    I stared at Jack, unblinking, willing myself to say something, yet nothing came to mind.
    ‘ You are good for me, ’ said Jack. ‘ I know that sounds ridiculous, but I used to feel so isolated until I met you. I have always been able to heal physical wounds, but I have never been able to fix what goes on in my head. You just seem to block out all the bad stuff that goes through my mind, just by being around. Why do you think I ’ ve followed you high and low these past few months? ’
    I averted my eyes. Suddenly the bubbles seemed interesting. I could not bring myself to look at Jack. I knew my cheeks must be extremely pink from embarrassment.
    ‘ Do you understand what I am saying? ’ Jack said seriously.
    I looked up and met Jack ’ s eyes. I nodded.
    ‘ Good, ’ he said, ‘ Now get out of that bath before you turn into a prune. ’
     
    ~
     
    Dinner at the Greenwood ’ s was only slightly awkward. Whilst Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood were perfectly friendly, they asked embarrassing questions.
    ‘ How long have you two been together? ’
    ‘ What are your plans for the future? ’
    ‘ Why are you going to Concord City? ’
    ‘ What do your parents do? ’
    Jack ’ s father and stepmother seemed just as intent on getting to know me, as they were Jack. Jamie seemed absolutely smitten. He insisted on sitting next to me at dinner.
    ‘ Looks like my boys have good taste. ’ Mr. Greenwood said when Jamie snatched up the chair beside me.
    ‘ You absolutely must stay the night, ’ Mrs. Greenwood insisted halfway through dinner. ‘ And tonight I will wash your clothes and hang them up to dry so they are ready in the morning. ’
    Dinner was delicious and by the time I had cleared my plate I was extremely tired, but I couldn ’ t call it a night without first letting Hawthorne know that we were spending the night in Scyre. I worried that Mr. and Mrs. Greenwood would be suspicious if I walked to the outskirts of the town. I confided this to Jack and he waved it aside.
    ‘ Who cares what they think? I ’ ll come with you. ’
    Finding Hawthorne was never difficult. We seemed to be in tune with each other ’ s thoughts. He knew when I was looking for him and always turned up at the right time. We told Jack ’ s father that we needed to collect something from a shop in town and quickly ran into the forest where Hawthorne sat waiting for us. He seemed extremely putout when I told him that he would have to make do for himself until dawn. I gave him a kiss and together Jack and I walked back