The Key to Finding Jack Ewa Jozefkowicz (books to read for self improvement TXT) 📖

‘As you know, that never happened. A few hours later I was woken up by the room shaking. My bed was literally sliding across the floor.

‘I ran outside and managed to get down the ladder. There was an older man who had been sitting in a wicker chair in the lobby area and his chair had toppled over – he later told me he’d gone down there because he couldn’t sleep. I helped him to his feet and he kept telling me that it was going to be all right.’

‘It must have been terrifying,’ Mum said.

‘Yeah. The shaking stopped and then started up again, harder this time. There were tree branches falling around us and one of the treetop rooms came crashing to the ground. People were screaming and the manager was shouting instructions, but I couldn’t understand everything because they were in Spanish. I started panicking – I thought the shakes would keep getting bigger and bigger. But luckily they didn’t – all of a sudden they eased off. It was the weirdest thing – as though somebody had switched off the engine of the earth.

‘We were incredibly lucky, because we only got the edges of the earthquake. Even the buildings were mostly fine, other than some smashed windows and roof tiles falling off. It turned out that nobody had been staying in the treetop room that collapsed, which was a relief.’

‘The poor residents though. It must have been awful for them,’ Mum said. She was sitting next to Jack and had grasped his knee as he’d been telling his story.

‘They were surprisingly calm, although some of them had had some pretty serious falls. Then we had to evacuate the building before the management confirmed it was structurally sound, and later the big clean-up job started. I helped check that the residents were all OK and get them medical help.

‘The internet was down and there was no phone signal. The only landline they had wasn’t working. I kept trying to think of ways to get through to you, but I couldn’t. The only road into town was blocked with fallen trees. It’s around a twenty-minute drive into Cortagena and I thought about walking to try and find a phone, but my help was really needed. There were so many elderly residents who were either injured, or in a state of shock. The ones with dementia were particularly badly affected. The staff were doing all they could, but they needed as much support as possible before proper help arrived. You must have been mad with worry – I’m so sorry.’

‘It’s not your fault, Jack,’ said Dad and he pulled him close. ‘We’re so incredibly relieved that you’re safe and that you’re back. I know that there are some families who haven’t been nearly as lucky as us.’

I’d never seen Dad hug Jack like that before and later that night, after I’d gone to bed, I heard the two of them up in Jack’s bedroom talking about uni. I shouldn’t have, but I sat on the landing and listened. I was hoping that Dad would tell Jack what he’d said to me and Mum, and he did.

‘I’ve been really unfair,’ I heard him say. ‘You need to do whatever makes you happy. Not me or anyone else. That’s the single most important thing.’

Twenty

The Young Writers’ Awards Ceremony was held after the Easter break in a big hotel in central London.

The winner from our school had been announced a couple of days after Jack came back, and I’d completely missed it as I hadn’t been checking online.

‘Well done,’ said Duncan’s sidekick, Max, as soon as I came into our form room the next morning. ‘You totally deserve it. Yours was clearly the best of our stories. I voted for it.’ Then several other people came to congratulate me and it all sank in.

‘I can’t believe I’m going to the awards,’ I told Keira. ‘What do I need to do? Who do I bring?’

All my questions were answered by Mrs Emmett. I was allowed up to six guests, so I invited Jack, Mum, Dad and Keira. And then I asked Mrs Emmett and Grandma Sylvie if they would come too. I could tell that Mum and Jack were chuffed that I’d invited Grandma and that she’d agreed to come.

The main hall of the hotel was already filled with people when we arrived and I felt lightheaded.

‘Goodness, it’s like the Oscars,’ Grandma whispered excitedly. ‘I never thought in my old age I’d get to see somewhere so grand again.’

‘Can I see your ticket?’ asked a lady in an immaculate blue uniform.

I put my hand in my coat pocket and was surprised to find two folded pieces of paper. One was the ticket, which I handed over, and the other was a small, grubby-looking square that looked as if it was torn from a notepad. As we sat down, I unfolded it and found a note in perfect handwriting.

I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Your writing is incredible, and well… so are you. D.

P.S. I have a small present for you – a red beret. It made me think of you and Margot.

‘What is it?’ Keira whispered, peering at the piece of paper in my hand. ‘No way, is that from Duncan?’

‘Is he serious?’ I asked her, and I felt the heat rising in my face.

‘Obviously he is. I’ve always told you.’

I was still thinking about the note, when a man appeared on the stage, and the chatter subsided.

‘Welcome to the first national Young Writers’ Awards,’ he said. ‘Thank you for joining me and a very warm welcome to you. I wanted to begin by congratulating those of you who have been nominated by your schools to enter. You’ve already come an extremely long way to get to this stage.

‘As you know we have four different categories that we’ll be awarding