Did he break down like I did?
I remind myself none of this is my business. He’s only a colleague, a guy who’s agreed to do us a favour. He owes me nothing at all. For some reason, that thought depresses me. I notice that he doesn’t once refer to us knowing each other in the past. We’re pretending we are strangers, even though we’re anything but. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.
Starting the tour on the ground floor, I show him the treatment rooms that aren’t being used, the meeting rooms where we hold after-school club, and the kitchen.
“This is the most important place.” I fling my arms around the small room. “We have everything you could possibly want; coffee, tea, biscuits... sympathy. Lots and lots of sympathy.”
“This place is amazing. How long have you been working here?”
“Almost five years.” We walk up the stairs, toward the admin office. I wave at the staff. They seem more interested in ogling Niall than acknowledging me, not that I can blame them. He’s wearing old,
paint-splattered jeans, worn to nothing at the knees and frayed at the hems. They hug his hips in a disturbing way. “And thank you. We all work pretty hard to make it that way.”
“I can see that.” His voice is soft. “It’s very impressive.”
For some reason that kicks me right in the gut. He still looks like the Niall who consumed my every thought all those years ago. But, like me, he seems to have grown up. I like it more than I should—like him more than I should.
“We should probably get things ready in the art room.” I suddenly wish the kids were here already. They’re the ultimate ice-breaker; I’d feel much less awkward if they were around. Even my body feels weird. My arms hang limply at my sides, and I don’t know what to do with my hands. I end up balling them into fists, as though it will give me strength.
“Sounds good,” he says. “Show me the way.”
* * *
Two Saturdays later Lara and I drive to Battersea in her scratched-up Mini. It’s early enough for the streets to be fairly clear. She cranks up her tinny car radio and we sing along to the Arctic Monkeys, trying not to remark on the fact that nearly all of their lyrics seem to be about drugs, drinking or both. They remind me of when I was a student. Everything does at the moment.
“So where shall we take her?” Lara drums the pads of her fingers against the steering wheel. We’re sat at a zebra crossing, waiting for an old lady to make her way across it. She’s pushing a trolley, and peeping out of the top is the cutest little Scottie dog.
“We should go to the park,” I say. “It’s a beautiful day and she probably needs to work off some energy.”
Allegra has been in a group home for five days; ever since Daisy had a fight with Darren and ended up in accident and emergency with a broken cheekbone. She swears it looks more painful than it actually is, but every time I look at her all I can think of is how hard he must have hit her to break such a thick bone.
Allegra saw the whole thing.
“We could go to Battersea Park.”
“Maybe.” I’ve a hankering for hills. There aren’t enough in London. I miss the way you can climb high and look down and feel so insignificant. I want to feel insignificant, at least to myself. “How about we go to Parliament Hill?”
“Hampstead’s miles away.”
“I’ll chip in for the petrol.” I’m kidding. I’ll pay for it all. “I bet Allegra has never been there. We can buy some food from Marks and Spencer’s and have a picnic.” I start to get excited. “And maybe we can get her a pad and some pencils and she can draw or something.”
Lara looks at me from the corner of her eye. “Are you okay? You seem all over the place at the moment.”
It’s so typical she notices when nobody else does. I can zip on a persona like an old winter coat for everybody else, but Lara’s too perceptive. I lean forward and turn the radio down. “I don’t know,” I admit.
“Is everything all right with Simon?”
I blink a couple of times. “Yeah, why do you ask?”
She shrugs. “You haven’t mentioned him much.”
“He’s been busy at work. If he was ten years younger he’d probably be pulling all-nighters.”
We both laugh. The image of Simon staying up all night with only Red Bull for company is incongruous. “In fact, I was going to ask you if I can come to Alex’s gig next Friday. Simon’s going to be away and I don’t fancy staying home alone.”
Alex is Lara’s husband. He’s a printer by trade, but he has a band he jams around with and sometimes they play gigs at their local pub. They’re totally laid back and unpretentious. I like Alex a lot, not least because he let me live with him and Lara for a year when I had nowhere else to go. I’ve missed seeing him. Our circles are so different nowadays. He’s chilled out and cool, while I’m old before my time.
“Of course, we’d love that.” Lara has a huge grin on her face and I try not to let her see how bad it makes me feel. I can’t remember the last time I went out with her anywhere. Most of my time is taken up with Simon, either going out to dinner with clients, or hosting them at our place. It isn’t that Simon doesn’t get on with Lara and Alex, they just don’t have a whole lot in common. It’s hard work for all of us when we get together. “You could stay over at ours. Maybe we can hit the markets on Saturday morning.”