Max shakes his head.
And then something extraordinary happens. Craig places an arm around Max’s shoulder and leads him into the kitchen, saying he’s going to teach him how to make the best cup of coffee in the world. ‘The trick is not to pour boiling water into the mug, ’cos it scalds the coffee. You know how to boil a kettle don’t you, or don’t they teach you that at school either?’
As Nina and I clear the kitchen and sort the flowers, we watch, through the hatch, Angus, Lauren, Craig and Max folding up the tables and mopping the floor.
‘Look at them,’ Nina says, watching her volunteers as if they’re her children, her family. In many ways they are. Lauren has seemingly taken Max under her wing. We overhear her telling him, with pride, that she’s been at Soul Food for a few months now, she helps make the puddings.
‘When Lauren first came here…’ Nina doesn’t have to go on.
I glance her way. There’s no doubt Lauren’s skin looks clearer, she’s bothering to wash her hair, and when she talks, we’re all getting to see her blue eyes. She even agreed, with Angel, to work on a food diary, to help her cut down on her sneak-eating, and to think about reducing the amount she smokes. ‘Angus looks good too,’ Nina adds. ‘Mind you he’s so handsome he can get away with a few extra stone, but he seems different, happier.’
I nod, resting my eyes on Angus. No hint of stubble, he’s wearing a white shirt that shows off his tan, and his recent haircut, plus losing weight, have made the years fall away. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed how handsome he is. Until now. Perhaps I wasn’t looking.
‘His life was a car crash waiting to happen,’ Nina confesses. ‘I could see it. We all could. But I think he’s turned a corner. Did he tell you we lived together at college? He was one of the most popular guys.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me.’
Suddenly we hear raucous laughter coming from Craig and Max, followed by Lauren and Angus. Nina turns to me. ‘Thisis why I do it,’ she says. ‘This work is like throwing things into a pan, hoping it won’t overheat or burn. Sometimes it’s delicious, other times it’s a disaster. You’ve got to have the ingredients, but you’ve got to have the faith too.’
I agree, unable to take my eyes off them. Off him.
‘He has no idea of the impact he has on others, does he?’ Nina says, turning to me. ‘I guess that’s half his charm. He’s broken many hearts.’
As I watch Angus, I realise how empty my life would be without him.
‘Don’t let him break yours,’ Nina says quietly, following my gaze.
19
‘Lauren?’ I knock tentatively on her bedroom door. The manager let Angus and me into the building, after we’d explained how concerned we were. She told us Lauren hadn’t eaten any breakfast or dinner last night, had missed her art therapy and had been feeling low for the past few days. Normally residents have to be out of the night-shelter from 8.30 in the morning, to 6.00 at night, except on a Sunday. But given how unwell Lauren seemed to be, she’d made an exception. I open the door. ‘Lauren, are you asleep?’
‘Yes. Go away.’
She’s lying under the covers, clutching Ted. ‘We’re worried about you.’
‘I’m asleep.’
‘You don’t sound asleep,’ Angus says.
‘Well, I am. Go away.’
‘OK, well when you wake up give us a call. We’re worried about you.’ We wait. Silence.
As we admit defeat and leave, I can’t help thinking it was too good to be true.
Angus and I have had our eighth session with Angel, and Lauren didn’t show up.
It felt odd without our partner in crime. It was as if we were missing an arm or a leg; our group didn’t feel complete. I sensed Angel felt it too, despite reassuring us that this happened all the time. Depression and anxiety don’t give up easily, she said, especially when its victim is trying to make changes. They love to get their claws in deeper. ‘But don’t worry, she’ll come back when she’s ready.’
Yet that didn’t reassure us. Lauren hasn’t responded to any of our recent text messages, and she was withdrawn at the café last weekend, heavy on her feet, her back playing up again, and painfully shy in front of a different chef, as Scottie was away. It felt as if we were back to square one.
Angel promised she’d text Lauren later and suggest taking her out for a coffee and chat. But after we left the park, Angus and I decided to head straight to the night-shelter, in case there was something seriously wrong.
As Angus and I are about to part ways– I need to get to work and Angus has to prepare for a job interview this afternoon– we encounter Ian outside, leaning against the wall, smoking. He stubs out his cigarette and heads towards us. ‘We don’t want a fight,’ Angus says, weary, walking straight past him.
‘Nor do I. We’re on the same side mate, Lauren’s side.’ He offers Angus a cigarette. For a moment Angus looks tempted before turning it down.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I say, glancing at my watch. It’s 9.30. One perk of working with Harriet is our day begins at 10.00, though we’re often still in the office late into the evening.
