The Jump by Doug Johnstone Read Free Book Online Page A

because he saw that damn bridge every day when he opened his curtains? Maybe he wasn’t any more depressed or angry or suicidal than any other teenager, it’s just that he had the idea implanted in his head by that metal-and-concrete monstrosity looming over his life. There were increased suicide rates near high buildings and bridges. Many more suicides in countries where guns were easily available. And there were clusters, Ben was correct, but Ellie knew in her heart that was just down to human nature. Not exactly peer pressure, kids weren’t egging each other on to do it. It’s just that once you saw it was possible, a viable alternative to living, that really opened your eyes. She knew that from her own experience. Since Logan, she’d thought about following him into the water every day. The truth was she didn’t have the nerve.
    Sam turned. He had tears in his eyes. ‘I can’t believe we were up there. It seems like a dream or something. A nightmare. This whole thing is a nightmare.’
    Ellie went over to him. ‘I know.’
    She looked at the stubble on his chin. He was definitely older than Logan, whose facial hair had been wispy fluff. Sam’s was more like Ben’s, but many years away from going grey.
    Sam wiped at his nose with his sleeve and she wanted to tell him to use a tissue. All those years of motherhood ingrained in her now, impossible to shake off. Not that she wanted to shake it off, once she was no longer a mother, she was nothing.
    She put an arm round him but he pulled away. Already she longed for the closeness they’d had earlier, when she’d helped him back to the house. That was real mothering, like looking after a toddler whose every need is your responsibility. She craved that burden on her shoulders.
    He had his phone out his pocket.
    ‘I need to find Libby,’ he said.
    ‘I’ll help you,’ Ellie said. ‘But you can’t go out looking for her just now. The police are everywhere.’
    He stared at her, doubtful. She needed to be an authority, needed to control this situation before it got away from her, like everything else.
    ‘And you can’t stay here either,’ she said. ‘Ben will be back soon.’
    He glanced out the window. ‘Maybe I should go to the police.’
    She reached out and touched his chin, moved his head until he was facing her.
    ‘No,’ she said, her voice steady. ‘You want to protect your sister, don’t you?’
    He nodded.
    ‘Think about it,’ Ellie said. ‘What you did was attempted murder. You’re old enough to go to prison, then who would look after Libby?’
    He was shaking with sobs. She stroked his face.
    ‘Shhh, it’s fine, I keep telling you I’ll take care of everything.’
    His breathing calmed and he nodded.
    She had the urge to say ‘good boy’, as if he was a three-year-old who’d eaten his broccoli, but she held back. Her hand was still on his cheek, wet now with tears. She took it away and sucked at her finger, the saltiness that had been part of his body until a moment ago now inside her, part of her.
    ‘The first thing you need to do is get out of that T-shirt and hoodie,’ she said.
    He frowned.
    ‘The blood?’
    A look of realisation on his face. Had he really forgotten he was walking around with his father’s blood on his clothes?
    She began undoing the zip on his hoodie but he put his hand on hers.
    ‘It’s only on the T-shirt.’
    Ellie shook her head. ‘It could’ve transferred. Better take both off to be sure.’
    She turned to Logan’s drawers. Opened the top one, full of the stuff he preferred to wear. She thought about what had been biggest on him, oversized, so that it might fit Sam better. There was a baggy red Superdry top, but red was stupid, too easily spotted and remembered, better to have something dark and anonymous. No brand names or logos either. There was no chance of that though, not in a teenage boy’s wardrobe. The best she could find was a black Adidas hoodie, the three white stripes small on the