‘I’m not from Whitsborough Bay either,’ Zoe said.
Even though I knew that from Jim, I took the cue, hoping she’d open up further.
‘Aren’t you? Where was home for you?’
‘Teesside, but I’ve been working my way down the coast. My granny and grandpa brought me and my sister to Whitsborough Bay for a week when I was ten – best and only holiday I’ve ever had – so I always wanted to end up here. I arrived at the end of the summer.’
‘Sounds like you have lovely memories from here. I’d have loved to visit when I was a kid. There’s so much to do.’
‘We had such an amazing time. They hired a static caravan and said they’d do whatever we wanted so we spent most of the week at the beach and in the arcades. We loved playing that donkey derby game – the one where you throw balls up a slope and your horse moves forward when they drop in a hole…’
I nodded my head to indicate I knew the game she meant. Her eyes were shining and it was clear to me how happy those memories were.
‘This one was actually camels rather than donkeys,’ she said, ‘and it was so much fun. Grandpa was brilliant at it and he won me this enormous pink teddy bear. I called her Princess Candy Floss but…’ Her expression darkened and she lowered her eyes, the story unfinished.
Molly appeared with our drinks and, after she’d gone, I asked, ‘Where are your grandparents now?’
‘Dead. Grandpa had inoperable brain cancer. It was the reason they booked the holiday, although my sister, Jacey, and I didn’t know it at the time. He died three months later and Granny died a few years after that.’
‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’
Zoe picked up her spoon and stirred her hot chocolate with a sigh. ‘It was awful. They were both so nice to us. I miss them.’
I wanted to ask about her sister but I remembered what Jim had told me about not asking too many questions.Besides, Zoe still had no idea why I’d asked her to stop by so I’d probably better focus on that.
‘I’m sure you’re wondering why you’re here. I’ve had a connection with The Hope Centre for several years and I helped with Christmas dinner. I was looking round at everyone enjoying their food and I spotted you and there was something about you that reminded me of myself when I came here and, strange as it might sound, my gut told me I might be able to make a difference to you.’
‘In what way?’
‘I’ve got a few ideas but I’m conscious we don’t know each other so I don’t want to cause any offence by making any assumptions about what you might want or need.’
‘I don’t expect anything from anyone.’ Although she said the words quietly, there was a defensive edge to them, which I could completely understand.
‘I get that. Like I said, I don’t want to make any assumptions. Jim mentioned that you like books.’
‘I love books. I spend a lot of time in the library and the staff are really nice to me. They let me read whatever I want and it’s warm in there.’
I had so many questions about where she spent the night but they felt intrusive and would detract from the point of our discussion. I’d stick with books for now.
‘I love reading too. What sort of books do you like?’
‘Absolutely everything – crime, horror, romance, historicals, fantasy, the classics – and I like non-fiction too, especially autobiographies. I’ve always been a really quick reader so I get through stacks of books. My dream is to work in a bookshop…’
She smiled and I imagined she was picturing what that would be like, and then the smile faded.
‘…but that’s not gonna happen. Got to have experience to get ajob and who’s gonna give me that? People take one look at someone who’s homeless and assume they drink, do drugs, steal…’ Her voice steadily rose and it was obvious to me that she’d had first-hand experience of those reactions. She looked around, wide-eyed, and lowered her voice. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to get loud.’
‘It’s all right. How would you feel about working a few shifts here? Obviously you wouldn’t be working with books, but it’d give you experience of customer service which might help you get your dream job.’
The wide eyes were back. ‘Why would you do that? Like you just said, you don’t know me. You don’t know whether I can be trusted.’
‘Can you be trusted?’
‘Of course, but?—’
‘Do you – and I’m quoting from you here –drink, do drugs, steal?’
‘No!’
