Stephen Williams - Little Pieces of Sophie first page
CHAPTER 1
October 2003
Jack pulled the keys from the ignition and turned to Kate. He wished he’d not agreed to her coming to meet his parents. No matter how hard he had tried to dissuade her, she was determined to see them.
“I feel nervous,” she said, biting her lip. “Do you think they’ll like me?”
He put his hand on her arm. “I’m sure Dad will be on his best behaviour. Try not to look horrified when he shows you his African wildlife collection.”
They stepped out of her car, his insides churning as they walked down the path to his parents’ house. His mum must’ve seen them and opened the door before he could press the bell.
She fluffed the tight curls of her perm. “It’s lovely to meet you, Kate. I’ve heard so much about you.”
She held out her arms and they hugged each other. His father lingered behind his mother, his gaze moving over Kate’s brown face and her long black curly hair. He reached out and gave her a firm handshake.
“You’re very welcome.” Holding out an open palm, he gestured for her to come inside. “Come in. Let’s go into the living room.”
As Kate passed the wall shelves in the lounge, her eyes drifted over the carvings that his father had brought back from Uganda. Ivory lions and elephants and a couple of antelopes and angelfish fashioned from buffalo horn. Her gaze lingered on the ostrich foot ashtray beside his father’s armchair, then widened at the elephant foot stool. When asked if it was real, his dad would say, “Somewhere in Africa there's an elephant with three legs.”
Stopping by the fireplace, Kate traced her fingers along one of the two tusks that arched over the mantelpiece. “These are amazing.”
His dad’s face lit up. “Wonderful, aren’t they? I saw a man hide them under the scrub while I was at a café outside Kampala. He must’ve poached them. Once he left, I sneaked out and put them in the back of my car.”
Kate laughed. She eased her skirt over her knees as she sat on the sofa next to Jack. He smiled at her. She was doing well.
“How was the journey?” his father asked.
“Good,” said Jack. “A bit slow coming out of Manchester but otherwise fine.”
His dad looked at Kate. “It’s changed a lot since I was kid. I hardly recognised it when I went to see Jack.”
His mum smiled. “Jack says you’re from London.”
Kate nodded. “Notting Hill.”
“Have you always lived there?” asked his father.
Jack put his hand to his face. What was his father going to say next?
“I was born there.”
“Used to have a Londoner working for me in Uganda.” His dad began coughing and then cleared his throat. Jack was relieved he didn’t spit into a tissue. “He was fresh out of university, full of hope. But I felt sorry for the poor lad. Because he was half-caste, the men in the office treated him as an African. He didn’t last long.”
Heat crept up Jack’s face. When he’d challenged his dad before about his choice of language, his dad said that’s what everyone said back then.
Kate clenched her hands on her lap. “That’s sad.”
His mum clasped her hands. “Jack says you two work together.”
Kate nodded. “We used to share an office. He was a bit shy, so I had to do most of the talking.” She looked at Jack and squeezed his hand. “But now I can’t get him to stop.”
His mum laughed. “He was like that as a kid. His teacher said he was quiet at school. And I said, you should see him at home, he never stops chattering.” She glanced at Jack. “When he was a baby, he’d babble away to himself for hours. He was such a content kid. Maybe it’s because he was an only child.”
“Do you have any siblings?” his dad asked.
“I’ve a younger sister in medical school and a brother who’s a teacher.”
His mum went over to the sideboard and, returning with a stack of photos, she sat next to Kate.
She thumbed through them and pulled one out. “That’s Jack as a baby.”
In the photo, his mum beamed as she held him up. She wore a pearl necklace and a floral dress.
Kate pinched Jack’s cheek. “Isn’t he cute?”
He rolled his eyes.
His mum flicked through more pictures, then pulled out one of him in the hospital. Sophie was next to him on the bed, an arm around each other, holding up their thumbs. Her cheeks, brown and rosy next to his bleached skin.
His mother touched Sophie’s face. “We were lucky with Sophie, weren’t we, Jack?”
He nodded. “It was a miracle.”
His mum sighed. “We were so lucky.”
Kate glanced at his parents. “Jack told me. It must’ve been hard.”
Jack gazed at the photo. He had seen it so many times. “I was convinced I was going to die. We tried everyone, didn’t we, Mum?”
His mother wrapped her arm around him. “We’re so lucky to have him.”