The Affectionate Player - Part2

Chapter 1

The whereabouts of Monty Jacob have yet to be discovered but it is thought that Ms Campbell, having in recent months accepted an undisclosed sum, did so in return for her cooperation in the child's abduction. She is also in the late stages of selling her London home in West Acton, giving way to rumours that she indeed planned to flee the UK with the child.

Our source also confirmed that Racy Gracie attended a neurological clinic on Saturday morning, accompanied by Mr Jacob and a family member, where police later joined them.

Ms Campbell, who last November gave birth to Mr Jacob's only daughter, Holly, is thought to be suffering from post-natal depression brought on by an alleged affair he is believed to have enjoyed last summer in LA with an ex lover, while his pregnant girlfriend remained in London."

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"BASTARDS!"  I yell, re-reading the article.

"Shower of shite!" I throw my iPad on the bed distraught by the fabricated lies and twisted truths that they call 'news'?  How the fuck am I going to fix this?

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I haven't slept a wink.

Instead, I drank whiskey until my sister finally crashed at midnight and in a futile effort to gain some rest, I'd abandoned the poison and made my way upstairs. Tripping on the landing I cursed loudly and dropped my eyes downward. Monty's dinosaur. Falling to my knees, I picked up the toy noticing its left foot still broken; he'd told me last Thursday and I'd meant to repair it.

Taking it to our bedroom, I am stopped instantly in my tracks. I sensed her. Faint, musky traces of No.5 lingered in the air teasing my nostrils. Inhaling, I offer up a silent prayer. Please God, keep them safe. I need them to be safe.

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It's 7am. I realise I've been sitting on the landing for likely an hour contemplating our family's future while my daughter has been gurgling happily for at least 10 minutes. Gracie has always let Holly have her own time in the morning, allowing her to waken and enjoy her own company.

"Babies need to learn that it's okay to be alone for a few minutes, Max. It teaches them not to be afraid." She's told me this often - every day in fact because each morning when I'd hear those gurgles, I'd jump up like a 5 year old wanting to play with his trucks.

And eventually when I could no longer wait, I'd enter the nursery to find Monty had beaten me to it having already climbed into her cot with his T-Rex. I smile to myself.  Our girls are irresistible. 

For Holly, today should be no different but it will be. Oblivious to the nightmare that has occurred, she sneezes and giggles to herself, and as I listen to her my heart almost explodes in a moment of fleeting joy.

My arms have craved to hold her all night, to rest the tiny bundle on my chest, to take comfort in her sweet, baby balm and feel the love we created, Gracie and I. But I have willed myself not to disturb her. I can't fathom how I've managed it. Instead, I have stroked her soft, warm cheek several times and watched dotingly as her lips curl upward responding to my touch. Daddy's girl. My girl. My babies. I want my son.

My mind since Friday has been flooded with fear which I now realise has clouded my every decision. And having bid my sister goodnight and capped the whiskey bottle, I have remained alone choosing instead to drink tea because alcohol solves nothing; my experience from when Melody died, lending itself now to this insanity.

And with every moment that has passed since last night, my anxiety has multiplied because I'd been waiting for headlines that I'd known were imminent. And as I'd waited, doubt and regret had crept into my veins.

What had I been thinking? Why only now, in the light of day, do I grasp how detrimental to our relationship my decision could have been?

Having discovered those headlines an hour ago, headlines that I invited awash with lies and scathing words, I can say without doubt that I am in renewed turmoil.

My thoughts remain on Gracie. She'll never forgive me. Never.

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"Jessie. Jock. Come in." I stand aside as I greet Gracie's parents on the doorstep, noting a few guys with cameras hanging around their necks waiting for more drama. Jessie's face is like thunder as she scurries past me, no doubt on route to the den in search of her granddaughter.

"They're still here, then?" I ask closing the door, attempting to make conversation. "Soph sent them packing this morning when she left but they must have come back again. Would you like some coffee? I've just boil..."

"You!" Interrupted mid-sentence, I'm thrust against the wall. Looking more like 6 feet tall than her usual 5" 4, Jessie points her chubby finger in my face ready to do battle. I'm not even shocked.

"Jessie, for God's sake, be quiet, woman!" Jock stuns his wife into a moment of silence. "Any word on the bairn, Max? Have they found Monty?" I shake my head, no. Not to be deterred, Jessie swings back to me ready for action.

"Who are you to be...?"

"I told you to leave this to me, Jessie! Have you no consideration for the child?" Jock shouts, his fury with his wife clearly increasing.

"Of course I do! But I also have my own child to consider! And there'll be no more listening to you!" she yells, addressing her husband angrily. "It's your fault she's with him in the first place! If you'd sent him packing at Cait's party like I told you to, instead of handing him the key to the door, our daughter would not be stewing in a police cell right now."

"Jessie, I can explain. I know you're angry but..."

"Don't you 'but' me lad! I told him! I should have bloody well told her too only she wouldnae have listened to me! And what is it with you Jacob men, anyway? No friggin' sense of responsibility!"

Registering a cough nearby, I slowly turn my head to find my parents standing in the doorway having let themselves into my home. All eyes fix on da. The atmosphere instantly cools, a sure sign that he's heard every word and aware that sparks are about to fly, Mum reaches to stroke his arm in a gesture of reassurance.

The old friends stand quietly for endless moments as da observes the sight before his eyes, his son under attack and for a single second time stands still.  I can't help but sense that he's about to blow and just as I fear all hell will break loose, tiny sounds are overheard and the only person who has the power to bring us back to the present, makes her little voice heard.

"You're not a bad judge, Jessie Campbell," da smiles, uneasily. "I'm sure you're glad to get that off your chest, hen. It's likely been brewing under the surface for years. Away you go and see to the babbie while I have a word with my son here, aye?"

She glares at him, almost daring him to order her once more but Holly's having none of it. She wants attention, and she wants it now.

"I'll go," I say, knowing damn well Jessie will want to be the one to comfort Holly, if only to keep her from me.

"Go on, Jessie," da continues, "she hears your voice and probably thinks it's her mammy."

"Aye, love. Gil's right. Come on." Jock urges. Without further insult, she let's go of me taking her cue and making her way to Holly with Jock following in her path.

In a heartbeat my parents are holding me in their arms. Mum's crying. I can hear her sobs but da holds back; he's trying to stay strong and in that moment, the love and support they are giving so unconditionally consumes me.

No longer capable of controlling my emotions I let go and gripping my father as if he were my last breath, the floodgates open and I break.

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