Chapter 26: Lori - The Foster Child

‘Why don’t you move in with me?’ Jacob asks as we lie in his king-size bed together. I’ve stayed the night as I often do now, and this is the third time he’s asked me to move in with him. It’s tempting, his flat is so modern and spacious, and in a good area of town too but it’s a big step and I’m not sure it’s wise to take it. We’ve only been together a couple of months and if I give up my room in the flat then Saffy will have to get someone else, and if I fall out with Jacob I’ll have nowhere. ‘Don’t you love me?’ he asks, gazing at me tenderly.

It always comes down to that with Jacob. If I love him then I should want to do whatever he wants. I should want to make him happy. I do want to make him happy, but I have to think of myself too, and I know from my parents’ divorce that relationships don’t always last.

‘Of course I do,’ I reply softly. ‘I just don’t think we should rush into anything.’

I’m so thrilled that Jacob loves me so much, and I adore being with him. But he’s such a mixed bag, kind and loving one minute, then having little digs at me the next. He says they are only jokes but they feel like pins pricking into my confidence and deflating it. And other times he can be so intense that it unsettles me. Last week he threw a fit because I bought a bunch of flowers and put them in a vase he keeps on the coffee table, I was shaking. He apologised afterwards saying it was his nan’s and he’d be devastated if I broke it but it really freaked me out. Now I can go back to my flat and give us both a bit of space but if I move in with him there will be no escape.

‘If you really loved me you’d want to live with me.’ He pouts, looking at me with big puppy dog eyes. My heart melts but I have to be sure.

‘I do love you.’ I kiss him deeply. God, I love him so much. ‘Let’s talk about this in the new year. Okay?’

He nods. ‘Okay.’ Then suddenly he’s up and out of bed. ‘I didn’t realise it’s so late, I’ve got to go.’

I’m confused as he heads to the bathroom, locking the door. This is typical Jacob, his personality switches in an instant. I get out of bed deciding to make myself a cup of tea while I wait for him to finish using the bathroom. I patter barefoot into the big lounge-kitchen then pause when I see a box on the table with some papers in it. Jacob must have got up in the night to work on something, he often does that. I swear his brain never stops. I wonder what he’s writing about now, he’s very secretive about his work until it actually goes into print. I go over to the table and peer at the notes but before I can read anything Jacob grabs me by the wrist and spins me round.

‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

‘Nothing. I was just curious what you were working on.’

‘I’ve told you never to interfere with my things. My work is private.’ He’s holding my wrist so tight it hurts. ‘Do you understand?’

His eyes are sparking with anger, and I swallow the lump of fear that rises in my throat. This is Jacob, he wouldn’t hurt me. He’s angry because I was mooching.

I nod. ‘I’m sorry. Please let go of my wrist, you’re hurting me.’

His eyes hold mine for a moment then he finally releases his grip.

I rub my wrist and stare at the red welt that’s already forming.

Jacob notices it too and the anger fades from his eyes.

‘I’m so sorry, Pumpkin. I didn’t mean to hold your wrist so tight. It’s just that I’ve got those papers in order and I didn’t want you to mess them up.’ He wraps me in his arms and I rest my head on his shoulder, fighting back the tears.

‘It was an accident. You know that, don’t you?’ he murmurs tenderly. ‘I would never hurt you. You shouldn’t have touched my things. You know how I feel about my things being messed with.’

I want to believe him. I tell myself that I believe him. But I can’t forget the look in his eyes, the cruel tone to his voice.

* * *

I go back to the digs and lie on my bed and cry. Part of me wants to ring Mum and ask her if I can come home but another part of me tells me it was my fault. Jacob has always told me never to touch his work. Then a message pings in from Jacob telling me how sorry he is, and how much he loves me, begging me to forgive him and come out for a meal with him tonight so he can show me how sorry he is.

I look at the angry welt on my arm. It was an accident. He grabbed me, he didn’t hit me, did he? I reply back that of course I forgive him. Then I shower, put on my makeup, put a leather bracelet around the weal on my wrist and go to my next class.

The meal was nice, Jacob was so charming and loving but the next morning when I phone Mum, partly because I want to hear her voice, but mainly because I’m longing to confide in her about Jacob, he comes back before I can say anything, and shouts at me for not putting the shower gel back in the right place. It was stupid of me. I know he likes things to be in the correct place. Now he’ll be in a mood all day again.

I hope he doesn’t act like this when we stay with Mum and Elliot over Christmas.