‘Men and women, they can’t be friends,’ Lauren concludes.
‘One curry coming up for you, and Holly and Lauren’s meringues and choc sauce,’ I overhear Angus saying. ‘Good choice. Take a seat.’
Lauren stirs the evaporated milk into the smooth melted chocolate and butter. ‘Pat put icing sugar in too,’ she says.
‘Did she? I think we have icing sugar,’ I say, recalling seeing it in the cupboard. I ask Lauren to keep stirring while I grab some. ‘How much? We should sieve it first. Here.’ I hand her the sieve. ‘You do it.’
Lauren ignores the sieve, instead tipping the box upside down over the saucepan, a good deal of icing sugar going everywhere.
‘You’re right. Who needs a sieve?’ I say, dipping a teaspoon into the mixture to have a taste. ‘This tastes like heaven. Here, try some.’ I hand her a clean spoon.
‘Roasted veggies and meringues with Lauren’s choc sauce,’ Angus says, taking down another order.
‘Pat’s choc sauce,’ Lauren puts him straight.
‘Your Pat did us proud,’ says Angus, as we eat our lunch after everyone has left. It’s just me, Nina, Angus, Scottie, Craig and Lauren. Lauren ate a small portion of Scottie’s curry with some vegetables, and is now eating some left-over fruit with her chocolate sauce. It’s the first time she’s eaten a main course and a pudding. It’s good to see her eating vegetables and fruit, and while chocolate sauce isn’t exactly healthy, at least it’s putting a smile on her face.
‘Who’s Pat?’ Nina asks, since she missed out on the earlier conversation.
‘This little old lady,’ Lauren replies, chocolate sauce coating the corners of her mouth.
Nina takes off her glasses, gives them a quick wipe on her shirt sleeve. ‘Careful. She’s probably my age.’
‘And mine,’ I add.
Lauren looks at Nina and then at me, a serious expression on her face as she declares, ‘She was a bit older.’ She stands up to stretch, before sitting down again.
‘How come you lived with Pat?’ Angus asks.
‘My step-mum kicked me out when I was fifteen. My real mum, she died. I never knew her.’
‘So Pat took you in?’ I say, longing to hear how the little old lady came to the rescue.
Lauren nods.
‘She had bad knees. I used to go down the shops for her, helped her in the garden too, with her pots. She used to tell me about the war, the rations, one egg a week.’
‘Hang on a minute, Pat must have beenseriouslyolder than us,’ Nina says, making us all laugh.
Lauren nods and allows herself another smile. ‘Think her dad fought in the war or something. She had lots of family albums, showed me pictures of him in his uniform.’
‘What happened?’ I ask, praying Pat didn’t die. ‘How long did you live with her?’
‘About a month. I was kicked out in March. Less cold at least.’
‘She kicked you out?’ I say, wondering how Pat could do that to a child, to someone as vulnerable as Lauren, and that it sounds so unlike this little old lady who’d previously given her warmth and kindness, and made such delicious chocolate sauce.
‘Her daughter did.’ Lauren looks awkward, unsure how to handle all the attention. ‘I’m OK,’ she murmurs. ‘Living on the streets was better than living at home.’ She gets up and walks away.
Angus jumps up and heads straight after her, reminding me why I like him.
‘Wait,’ Nina calls out. ‘Leave her.’
He turns.
‘Give her a few minutes on her own, Angus. She doesn’t need rescuing.’
Reluctantly he returns to the table. ‘Remind me never to feel sorry for myself again,’ Angus mutters.
