P Kane - Her Last Secret

He’d got his job as a junior at The Granfield Gazette , and worked his way up, becoming one of the most trusted photographers on the staff. They got a house, a real house with stairs and everything. Jordan was doing well at school, showing signs of Jake’s own creativity – especially painting and drawing, some writing too – but also a love of animals that she got from her mother. Always wanting to take in strays, look after them. Things were good, life was good.

But then came the teenage years.

In the space of just a few months – so little time – when Jordan was coming up to her fifteenth birthday, her whole personality had changed. She’d always been so sweet, so thoughtful, but the kids she’d started hanging out with at school were just idiots, plain and simple. Jake and Jules had tried to instil in her a sense of right and wrong, a moral core, but that was soon eroded away by the need to be popular – to not look like one of the eggheads who were always studying. And those fucking smartphones, bloody social media … They’d been able to police it to some extent when she first got one, which they’d thought was a good idea to begin with, a way of keeping in touch. Jake had even bitten the bullet and got one himself at the same time, just to try and hang on to some of that closeness they’d once had as father and daughter.

Gradually, and inevitably it seemed, guys showed up on the scene. Jordan went from not really being interested, to plastering herself in make-up when she was heading out, even just down the road to a mate’s, or staying over at a friend’s (which they would later usually find out was male). Photos would appear all over her online pages: Jordan with groups of both girls and boys, some they didn’t even know from other schools, or older lads from college. Some of the comments beneath them were absolutely disgusting. They’d confronted her about it on several occasions, but her answer was always to point to their own teenage years. And, no, Jordan hadn’t got pregnant, but there had been a couple of scares at least that they knew about. All of which had Jake pulling his hair out.

It was also putting a hell of a strain on his marriage, the constant worry and the arguments. Each relying on the other to try and sort this mess out before it was too late.

By the time he’d decided to go and do more night-classes – now in camerawork, an attempt to move sideways into that field – Jordan had already failed most of her GCSEs and was looking to attend college herself for resits. That only made things worse, increased her contact with boys. A string of them stretching back and every single one interchangeable; same shit, different day, all because of the influence of her man-mad friends. Apparently, it was okay to jump straight into bed with someone, they were part of the so-called ‘hook-up generation’; try before you buy, before you put a label on it … all of that bollocks. Even with those guys who threatened to hurt her, that Jake had wanted to pummel on a regular basis – ride in like some kind of half-arsed knight on a white charger or something, when it was the last thing in the world Jordan wanted; she’d made that plain.

She’d started dressing in what he thought were totally unacceptable clothes, swearing and smoking like a chimney. Talking to her became all but impossible, the generation gap obvious, and she would disappear for days on end. They’d even called the authorities on a number of occasions, fearing the worst, only for her to crop up or call them to say she was okay and just staying with friends again. What could they do? She was lost, but she was also practically a grown-up. He’d lie there in the dark at night, time ticking away so slowly, wondering if his daughter was okay; his contact with her amounting to a green dot on a screen to show if she was online, to indicate whether she was alive or dead.

And yes, if he was honest with himself, he was jealous that she had this whole other life that didn’t involve him; that she actively kept away from him because she knew he wouldn’t approve. It seemed a million miles away from the relationship they’d once shared as dad and daughter, the time – the years – between them stretching out further and further.

There had been more rows, Jake’s imagination running wild and accusing her of all sorts – drugs were a particular suspicion – not that Jordan ever realised, because she wasn’t around. Her mother would always give her the benefit of the doubt. ‘What do you want me to do? We have no proof about any of this!’

‘By the time we find out the truth, it’ll be too late,’ Jake would always argue. Chicken, egg. Egg, chicken.

The other thing Jules would say time and again was: ‘She’s not doing any of this to get at you, it’s not personal. She’s just trying to find her way …’ So why did it all feel so fucking personal? They’d spent all that time trying to bring Jordan up right, and she was basically throwing it back in their faces.

It had all hit the fan one night when she returned, having missed her eighteenth birthday. This time she’d pushed Jake too far and he’d offered a few home truths, which had made the girl cry but also ended with her telling him that she hated his guts. ‘I never want to see you again!’ she barked into his face.

Jake had taken one look over at Julie for support, but she’d turned away. And then so did he. Turning and walking out through the front door, going off to stay in a hotel that night. He’d returned the next day, of course he had – but Jordan hadn’t been around, and he could tell by the frosty reception he got from Jules that things would never be the same with them again either. He’d tried a few more times, to make their marriage work, to talk to his daughter, but in the end, he had just headed off because he thought that was for the best. Julie’s parents had been delighted by the news, naturally; probably thought it was his fault in the first place that Jordan had gone off the rails and they would now get her back on track. They never had been able to see what was right in front of their eyes.

Contact with the two ladies who’d been in his life, who’d been his life, had turned out to be minimal since the divorce. The odd strangled phone conversation, calls on birthdays or at Christmas – nothing more. Jake hadn’t seen Jordan in almost three years now, he got the feeling she preferred it that way. He’d deleted his social media accounts as well, got rid of his old mobile so he didn’t have to watch the continued self-destruction of his baby girl. He’d moved away, found a job at the local TV company and was doing all right … At least that’s what he told himself. He hadn’t even been fazed – much – by the news that Julie had got married again. Maybe at some point they could all sit together again in a room and talk like adults. At some point, that’s what he’d thought. His daughter’s twenty-first was fast approaching, so maybe …

But then the phone call. The news.

Another landmark birthday they’d miss. (No, it wasn’t true!)

He’d dropped the receiver, he remembered that much. Had to get in the car, get back – just to make sure it wasn’t real. Some kind of practical joke, it had to be. It couldn’t be right. Just couldn’t be!

Where’s all the big news?

You had to ask, didn’t you? Well, it’s here, this is it, his conscience taunted.

In any event he had to get back there, to the town he’d once called home. Get back.

Get to Redmarket.

***

In his haste to reach the place, pulling off the motorway but barely slowing down, he’d almost had a collision with a blue Sierra.

Jake heard the blast of the motorist’s horn, but it was muted. This whole journey had been like driving through a fog. But now he was emerging out of the other side, driving down that familiar dual carriageway, spinning off the roundabout that had only been small when he was growing up, but was now controlled by a lights system. Then up and into town proper, where the traffic was slowing to a crawl.