“That’s him.”
“He must be fun to work for.”
“He is.”
Music started up somewhere in the garden. I listened to it while I ate, still enjoying the sight of the coloured lanterns. Then someone called my name, and I looked up to see Naomi holding Bembe’s hand and pushing a buggy containing her new daughter, Precious, with the other.
“Naomi! Hi.”
Bembe broke free from his mother and rushed towards me, hands in the air, demanding to be picked up. “Up, Beth. Up, up, up!”
I pulled him up onto my hip, where he instantly started pointing at the different lights. “Red! Blue!”
“That’s right,” I said. “They’re so pretty, aren’t they?”
“I’d be careful if I were you,” warned Naomi. “He badly needs a nappy change. Actually, since you’re here, d’you mind watching Precious for me while I take him to the toilet?”
“Of course,” I said, turning to her, noticing she was looking at Jake. “Oh, sorry, this is Jake from the East London Youth Centre. Jake, this is my friend Naomi, and this is Bembe and Precious.”
“Nice to meet you, Jake,” said Naomi, the twinkle in her eye telling me she approved of what she saw.
“Hey, Bembe,” Jake said to Bembe, holding his hand up to be high-fived.
Bembe obliged, putting all his strength into it, laughing as Jake pretended to stagger backwards. He was having so much fun he protested when Naomi took him off for his nappy change, his cries causing Precious to stir in her buggy.
“Shh,” I said, rocking the buggy until she settled again.
Looking up, I noticed Jake’s eyes on me. “You look like a natural,” he said.
“I’m going to be her godmother,” I told him. “Naomi and her husband asked me last week.”
He smiled. “Cool.”
Something about his expression made me think he might start quizzing me about whether I really wanted to adopt an older child, so partly to distract him, I asked him about the centre. “How d’you think I’ll best be able to help out when I start volunteering?”
When Naomi returned with a still-protesting Bembe, Jake was talking about possible sessions on small-animal care and helping out with whatever was going on by being a “listening ear,” and I was nodding along, taking it all in, because whether I was interested in adopting an older child or not, I was interested in helping out at the centre. While I could, at least.
“Somebody’s tired,” Naomi said, bending to strap a wriggling Bembe into the buggy next to his sister. “We’ll have to head off. Good to meet you, Jake.”
“You too.”
“See you soon, Beth.” Naomi’s gaze was fierce as she drew close to kiss me. I knew exactly what message she was communicating. She wanted me to come round ASAP to give her the lowdown on Jake.
“See you soon.”
“Nice family,” Jake said as we watched them leave.
“The best.”
Silence fell—the first silence between us since we’d arrived at the garden. I sensed it was either time to say goodbye and go our separate ways or . . . well, not.
“I might get another beer,” Jake said. “D’you fancy another?”
I looked at him. He had a nice face. The face of someone who’s lived a lot of life and emerged all the better from it.
“Yes,” I said. “I think I would, thanks.”
He returned with not only more beer but also a hot water bottle for me to tuck into my coat, and we sat and chatted—not just about the project but about ourselves too.
“So what’s it like, the adoption process?”
I pulled a face. “It’s tough, as you’d expect. And I think it’s about to get tougher. We’re going to discuss my relationships at my next home visit.”
“I’m guessing you’re not looking forward to that?”
I looked away from him into the trees. “Let’s just say my last relationship ended a bit . . . messily,” I said.
“Ah,” he said. “Still, it’s rare for relationships to end smoothly, I guess. She won’t judge you on that.”
I wasn’t so sure, but I was grateful when he didn’t ask any more questions about it.
When my hot water bottle had cooled down, we took another tour around the gardens, and then, as if by silent agreement, we headed for the exit and stood there grinning at each other.
“This has been fun,” Jake said. “Thanks for coming.”
“Thanks for inviting me. I’ve really enjoyed it.”
“You’re okay to get home?”
“Yes, I’m just a couple of streets away.”
He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a card. “Here. My mobile number in case you need to speak to me before we see you at the centre in the New Year.”
My gloved fingers touched his as I took the card from him. “Thanks.”
“Bye, Beth.”
“Bye, Jake.”
It was gone ten o’clock when I got back to the flat. When I took my phone out of my bag, I had a voice-mail message.
“Hi, it’s Mark. Listen, I need your advice about something. It’s important. But don’t call back now. Grace’ll be home soon. I’ll try you again soon. Okay, bye for now.”
I sat down at the table, some of the pleasure of the evening draining away, Mark’s face in my mind now instead of Jake’s. Whatever could he want me to advise him about? And why was it so secret?
23
On Saturday morning I went round to collect Jasper from Clive’s house. Jasper was all decked out in his Therapy Dogs harness and a pair of clip-on antlers—antlers he divested himself of the minute he got into my car—and we set off. I was wearing the Santa hat Clive had insisted I wear, but it was almost Christmas, so I didn’t really mind. Besides, the elderly residents wouldn’t be looking at me; they’d be looking at Jasper. And Jasper, with his shiny, newly brushed copper-and-white coat, looked an absolute treat.
We arrived at the care home without incident, and I gave Jasper a quick tour of the front gardens to relieve himself. When we went in, we both had smiles on our faces, anticipating the pleasure our visit would bring. Well, to be fair, Jasper was panting and wagging his tail rather than actually smiling, but he was doing these things with a great deal of enthusiasm, and it was as close to smiling as a dog can get. Clive had always told me how much Jasper enjoyed his work, and now I could see it was true.
“Hello,” I said to the woman at reception. “We’ve come to—”
But she cut me off, coming swiftly round the desk to greet Jasper. “Jasper! There you are! We’ve missed you!”
Clearly, no introductions were needed, then.
“I’m Beth, one of Clive’s colleagues. Clive couldn’t make it today, unfortunately.”
“Yes, he rang to let us know to expect you. Thanks so much for stepping into the breach. D’you want to follow me?”
She led the way, and I followed—with Jasper straining on the leash. Hopefully, he would calm down when we actually got to meet the residents. I certainly didn’t want him jumping up and knocking anyone over, giving someone a broken limb for the festive season.