Thirty Years Ago: A Journey Through Time

Emma Clarke remembers her mothers eyesfull of despair and something else. Margaret never scolds Emma outright, but Emma feels that from that day she has lost her mother. Its as if her mother hates her, silent and resentful.

Emma slams the suitcase shut, cramming in the last hastily folded jumper. The zip refuses to bite.

Come on, youll never get it closed! she mutters, slamming her weight onto it.

A knock at the door makes her jump.

Ben with his endless goodbyes again, she thinks, irritated.

Sure enough, Ben stands there, a wilted bouquet of roses in hand.

Portsmouth again? Ben asks, not bothering to hide his true feelings.

Yeah, Ben, again, Emma replies, softening her tone.

She knows how hard it is for him. Its hard for her too, but theres Jack.

Emma, how long can you keep doing this? You know its madness, Ben says, choosing his words carefully. You live in a past thats destroying you.

What am I supposed to do? Emma snaps out. Forget? Tell myself Its fine, hes gone, thirty years have passed, what does it matter? Is that what you want?

If there are no bows, then yesthats exactly what he wants.

I just want you to be happy, Emma. To live in the now. To allow yourself to marry, perhaps.

Emma lowers her gaze. She loves Ben in her own wayreliable, caring, patient. But Jack Jack is her endless ache.

I cant, Ben. I just cant. Until I find Jack, I cant go on.

Youll never find him, Emma! Ben bursts out. Thirty years have gone! Even if hes alive, he wont recognize you. He could be in a childrens home or have lost his memory. He was probably adopted, grew up in another family, another life! Hes a different person now!

Ben avoids other possibilities where Jack might still be alivetheyre too dreadful.

No! Emma swears, shaking her head. Its Jack. Ill find him. I feel it.

Ben hands her the roses.

Then goodbye, Emma. This isnt a relationship; its a fiction.

Emma takes the bouquet, feeling something snap inside herher feelings, once again, cracking. She knows shes losing Ben, but she cant help it.

Goodbye, Ben, she whispers, closing the door.

She plops onto the suitcase shes been dragging across the country, still fighting the stubborn zip, and she doesnt notice the tears falling.

Why, Jack? Why did it have to end like this? she asks the brother she seems to be forgetting. Sometimes she catches herself forgetting his face, his voice, the colour of his eyes.

At seven, Emma could not stand Jack, who stole her freedom and attention. Summer in the village was a child’s paradiseriver, woods, friends, latenight games. And Emma had Jackalways sulky, always clinging.

Emma, go out with your brother, Margaret says. Its not hard.

Hard! Very hard! Emma wants to run to the river with Danny, Pete and Claire, to build forts in the woods, to simply be a kid. Instead she has to push a pram with Jack down the dusty village lanes, listening to his endless ahgoo. And its not even funny.

One day Danny suggests crossing to the other side of the river, where a derelict mill is said to be haunted. No one believes in ghosts, but the idea of exploring an unknown spot thrills them.

Come with us, Emma! Danny begs. Just you, no Jack.

Emma looks hopeful at her mother.

No, Emma, Margaret cuts in. Either with your brother or stay at home.

Emma grits her teeth. Everything irritates her. This isnt life!

She grabs Dannys hand.

That day on the opposite bank is pure funshrieks, laughter, tag in the abandoned mill. Emma does little but watch, because Jack tags along, slow as a sevenyearold in a ruin.

Then she lets go of his handfor just a minuteto pick up a yellowed, cracked ball stuck under a concrete slab, probably left by kids long gone. She scrambles in, grabs the ball, climbs out, brushes herself off and when she turns, Jack is gone.

Emmas voice cracks as she calls for him. The others search, but its futile. Jack has vanished.

The police, neighbours, parents comb the river, the woods, every house. They interview anyone who might have seen something. Still, no sign of Jack.

Emma still sees her mothers eyesfull of despair. Margaret never scolds Emma, yet Emma feels that from that moment she lost her mother. Her mother hates her, silent and resentful.

A year later Margaret cant take it any longer.

Her father, Graham, tries to stay upbeat, working and cheerfully encouraging Emma, but hes broken too. Emma watches him age, hears the clink of empty bottles in his room. He never drinks in front of her, but when shes asleep he sneaks a new bottle and cracks it. Emma never sleeps through it.

Then Emma grows up. Her sole purpose becomes finding Jackher duty, her redemption, her chance to bring back who? Him or herself?

The plane lands in Portsmouth. Emma steps out of the terminal, a faint tremor in her chest. Portsmouth is a lovely city, but she has no time for its charms. Shes here for Jack.

Shes convinced hes here.

Emma cant explain why she arrives in each town with such certaintyevery town, absolutely.

The message she received mentions a man working at the local dock who looks like a faded photograph of Jack taken decades ago, and a sketch of how Jack might look now. The photo is blurry, but something in it catches Emmas eye. Something tells her this could be him.

At the airport, Andrew meets herher source.

Thank you for coming, Emma says, shaking his hand. Im grateful.

I hope I havent wasted your time, Andrew replies. Ill drive you to him. Hes refused to talk to me, but maybe seeing you will change his mind. They say kin feel each others presence.

They drive in silence. Emma watches the unfamiliar countryside roll by.

Finally they pull up at the docks, near a parking lot. Andrew stops the car. They have to walk the rest.

There he is, Andrew says, pointing to a man tinkering under the bonnet of an old Toyota.

Emma looks at him. Hes startlingly like Jacksame light hair, same blue eyes, and something else she cant quite name that makes her freeze.

Jack? she whispers.

The man flinches, wipes his hands on a grimy rag, and straightens. Emma instantly knows it isnt him. Not him. But she refuses to admit it to herself.

Do you know me? he asks, spotting Andrew behind her. Andrews, whats up?

Emma breaks down.

Jack, its me, Emma, your sister

She knows he isnt her brother, but she cant say it.

Sister? I have no sister. Andy, whats this prank? I told you I have no relatives.

There is one! Emma darts forward, grabbing his arms. Jack, dont you remember? We played by the river. You got lost. I was seven, you were two and a half. You dont remember?

He steps back.

Im sorry, I dont get it. If this is a joke, its not funny. My names Ian. I grew up in a childrens home. I havent seen my family since I was four. Im sure I have no sister.

You look just like Jack! Emma exclaims. Same eyes, same hair!

Maybe. You never know how many lookalikes there are. Ive been looking for him for years and Im not the first to be mistaken, Ian shrugs. But Im not your brother. Youve got the wrong person.

Emma cant bring herself to believe him. She knows he isnt her brother, yet the disappointment hits hard. She was so close, and yet it slips away again. She wants to hug him, tell him everything will be fine, that shes finally found him after all these years. He looks at her with bewilderment and a hint of fear, as if people are starting to avoid her.

I I can do a test, Emma mutters. Just to be sure.

I dont mind, Ian says, but I doubt itll help. My family were drinkers. After I was taken, my mum apparently had three more kids who were also taken. I never met them, but Ive heard the stories. I cant be your brother.

Please, it wont take long.

Alright.

The results arrive a few days later: negative. Ian is definitely not Emmas brother.

Emma returns home, locks herself in her flat, and watches the grey rain through the window. The hope that flared up in Portsmouth fizzles into ash. She wonders if she should have listened to Ben.

Ben never comes back. Hes probably found another woman who doesnt live in the past, who can offer him a present. Emma doesnt blame him. She can only live in the past. In a way shes forever stuck on the day her brother vanished.

Its time to give up hope

And

She reopens her laptop, scrolling through listings of longmissing children, people searching for relatives. Maybe somewhere theres another lead.

She knows shell never stop looking for Jack. Its her curse. Shell live with it until she dies.

Six months pass.

Emma visits two more towns, nearby, talks to dozens of people. Nothing.

But someone does find her.

Ian, now back in Portsmouth, calls her. Not from Portsmouth, but from a nearby city. Curious, Emma agrees to meet.

He sits across from her, talking:

My job fell apart, a row broke out at work, people were fired, I left. Then a friend from the same childrens home called, offered me a job here. I thought of you, Emma, and felt it was fate. I liked you from the first glance. Ive got nothing much to lose.

You liked me? Emma asks, cheeks flushing.

When was the last time she sat in a restaurant and talked openly with anyone? Not about Jack. Not in a rush. Not in some anonymous city canteen, just to eat and dash for the next train.

Yes. I thought I could ask Andrew for your number and call you when I moved. I moved and called.

His frankness charms her.

Id love to stay a bit longer, but I need to pack my suitcases. I fly out in the morning.

Where to this time?

To the Midlands.

The clue is weak, but Emma will go. Shell go, and thats that. Honestly, she doesnt believe anything anymore. Its become a mad race, and if she stops, her own thoughts will drive her mad.

Youre just covering up guilt, Ian says suddenly, honestly.

Perhaps, Emma admits, I was responsible for him. I should have brought him home. For thirty years Ive only tried to bring him back. But

She stops.

We dont know each other well enough for me to give you life advice. Let me tell you about mine. I remember my first four years better than most people remember their whole lives. I also remember feeling utterly useless. When they took me to the childrens home, I didnt cry. But until I left, I wanted to see my parents, find them, fix the brokenness that followed me all my life. I found them. They barely cared where I was or what happened to me. They didnt even try to reclaim parental rights. Thats how little they cared. I let it go. That chapter ended. I started a new one. I move easily, fit in, adapt to anything. I dont run away, I keep moving forward. You run. Youve been running your whole conscious life.

Emma stays silent for a long beat.

Our situations differ. Yours has a definite answer, mine is unknown. Sorry, I have to go.

Emma is about to leave, but she suddenly wants to staynot out of guilt or duty, but because she truly wishes to.

She turns around.

Im not opposed to a date. Tomorrow.

How about your trip?

The man who looks like Jack isnt him. I know that now. Im tired of this chase. Youre right about something, so I want to go on a date.

Ill be delighted.