Hands shaking, I sit in the driver’s seat googling parks in this area and it’s surprising how many there are. When you live on a farm, there’s not really a great need to go to a park so I’m not familiar with them. I scroll through the list.
Shitshitshit! Where do I start? Which is the most likely one for him to be in? And where the hell is Aurora? I wonder if they’ve had an argument. Seems the most feasible explanation. Shamefully, I realise how little I know about Lucas’s girlfriend. I don’t have her surname, her telephone number or even know where she lives. I should know these things and I don’t. Damn.
Taking a few calming breaths, I try to think about how I’m going to approach this. I come to the conclusion that I’m simply going to have to visit each local park, slowly, methodically until I find him. There’s no other way. Checking there’s a torch in the car, I set off.
Little Dog and I search the first two parks nearest to Hope Farm but that proves fruitless as, quite sensibly, no one is hanging around in a park on a cold winter’s night. I decide, instead, to head straight to the main park in the town. It’s not the best place to be after dark, but needs must. Little Dog, when riled, is an excellent barker and, though he’s tiny, it feels nice not to be doing this alone. I’m sure, if provoked, he’d be a great ankle-biter.
When I reach the town park a few minutes later, I leave the car in a deserted side street and head through the gates – which, thankfully, aren’t locked. It’s pitch black, freezing and I’d rather be anywhere else than here.
‘Come on, boy,’ I say. ‘Do your stuff. Find Lucas.’ Little Dog trots ahead of me, sniffing everything. I follow behind, grateful for the comforting beam of my torch. ‘Go on. Find him.’
When I reach the main grassy area, I call his name at the top of my voice. ‘Lucas! Lucas!’
Then I follow the footpath, heading deeper into the worryingly empty park, shouting as I go. My torch beam lights on a scruffy man coming towards me out of the darkness and, for a moment, my heart stops. I hear Little Dog give a low growl and he backs up to be by my side.
‘If you’re looking for a kid,’ the man says, ‘there’s a lad up on the playground by himself.’
‘Thanks. Thank you so much.’ In different times, I might ask why he didn’t stop to find out what was wrong, but I can only hope that this is Lucas.
Little Dog, running ahead of me, starts to bark. I put a spurt on and, a minute later, come to the playground. There, sprawled in one of the nest swings, head hanging down, is Lucas. I feel sick with relief that I have found him and that he is safe.
I go over to him and he raises his head to peer at me. When I shine my torch at him, he winces.
‘Hey,’ he says and raises a hand in greeting.
‘What the hell, Lucas? You scared the life out of me.’
‘Soz.’ He goes to get out of the swing and only succeeds in tipping himself onto the floor. Little Dog goes to lick his face and Lucas lies there, inert, while he does.
I help him up. ‘Are you drunk?’
‘Very,’ he says, struggling to focus his glassy eyes.
Of course he is. And, now that I look, there’s a plethora of Stella Artois cans around the area. ‘Are all these yours?’
‘Yes, Mummy,’ he slurs.
I pick up the cans and put them in the nearest bin. It’s a lot of cans.
‘What the hell has happened? Have you fallen out with Aurora?’
He takes a few unsteady steps. ‘You could say that.’
‘Where is she now?’
‘Fuck knows,’ Lucas spits as he staggers.
‘OK.’ He’s clearly in no fit state to have a reasonable conversation now. ‘Let’s get you home first and you can tell me all about it later.’
So I help him up and he puts his arm round me and sags heavily against me while we slowly make our way back to the car. Little Dog thinks it’s a great game and dashes around us both.
‘I love you,’ Lucas slurs. ‘Did I ever tell you that I really do bloody love you?’
‘I love you too. Just keep walking,’ I say to him. ‘One foot in front of the other. You can do it.’
‘You’re my best friend,’ he insists.
Then he stops and is violently sick in a flowerbed. I think this is going to be a long night.
Chapter Seventy-Four
Lucas sleeps in the car, snoring loudly, all the way back to Hope Farm. He only rouses as I get out to open the gate.
‘Where are we?’ he mutters.
‘Home,’ I tell him and very grateful I am for that. At least I found him without too much trouble and didn’t spend half of the night tracking him down. I am thankful for small mercies. Bev and Alan will be furious that I didn’t call them out, but how could I? They already do so much for me and I didn’t want to worry them further. With Alan’s health scare, they should be having a relaxing time too.
I help Lucas across the yard and into the caravan while Little Dog runs round our legs trying his best to trip us both. Inside, I make Lucas a strong cup of peppermint tea. He sits on the sofa, head an inch from the table, and sips at it.
I wasn’t sure that he would keep it down, but it seems to be going OK, so I risk asking, ‘Do you want anything to eat?’
‘Bacon,’ he slurs. ‘Bacon sandwich.’
‘We’re vegan,’ I remind him.
‘Oh.’
‘Toast?’
He shakes his head and seems to regret the sudden movement.
Sitting opposite him, I give him a long look. I think, after his sleep in the car, he appears a little more sober. ‘Now then, what’s to do?’
It takes a while for him to organise his lips to form the words before he says, ‘Aurora and I have broken up.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Just as I suspected. ‘These things happen. I’m sure it will blow over. You’re both under a lot of pressure at the moment. There’s a lot to think about with the baby and everything else.’
He looks up and tears fall from his eyes, tracking slowly down his cheeks.
‘Oh, Lucas.’ I go and sit next to him. This time, he doesn’t resist my embrace, he wraps his arms around me and holds on tightly. I stroke his hair. ‘Does it all seem too much? We can help. We need to tell your dad as soon as possible and then we can both be here to support you.’
He sobs louder.
‘It’s not ideal,’ I offer. ‘But it’s not insurmountable either. I don’t want you to worry. I know it’s a daunting thing, a big step in both of your lives, but you should try to enjoy it.’
He prises himself away from me and takes in a great gulp of air. ‘The baby’s not mine.’
‘What?’
Lucas turns huge, tearful eyes to mine and repeats, ‘It’s not mine.’
I’m struggling to take this in, so goodness only knows how Lucas feels.
‘She’s been seeing her tutor at college. For months. Probably longer. She wouldn’t say. He’s married and already has two kids.’
I don’t voice what I’m thinking. So she needed a dad for her child and duped Lucas? This is terrible and Lucas’s pain feeds into my own.