‘That’s everything I need to know for now. It wouldn’t be many hours – or at least not at first. What do you think?’
I could almost see the cogs whirring and I was sure she was on the brink of saying yes, but her shoulders slumped and she shook her head.
‘I’d love to but I can’t.’
‘Can I ask why?’
‘It wouldn’t work. Thanks for the drink, but I’ve got to go.’
She pushed back her chair and hastened out of the café. It took all my willpower not to chase after her. Jim’s words were strong in my head about how pushing the service users typically resulted in pushing them away and I feared I’d already gone too far.
With a sigh, I picked up her barely touchedhot chocolate and took it and mine through to the kitchen. As I tipped Zoe’s drink down the sink, I kicked myself for handling it badly. My intention had been to draw from her what she might need from me rather than jumping in with a solution as though I was some great benefactor here to fix everything for her. Her words circled round my mind:Why would you do that? You don’t know me.No, I didn’t know her and I’d imagined I did because I’d seen something in her that reminded me of myself. That wasn’t knowing Zoe. That was projecting myself onto her and making the kind of assumptions I’d been determined to avoid.
It hadn’t been an outright disaster but her walking out was hardly a success story. The problem was, I wanted to help her more than ever now and I knew that meant I’d made the biggest assumption of all – that she actually wanted or needed my help. If she really was anything like me when I’d fled from London, the last thing she’d want was anyone else’s help. Back then, I hadn’t trusted a single soul and had been fiercely determined to do everything on my own, to live on my terms. I’d built protective walls around myself and it had taken me fourteen years before I let them come down. No, I didn’t know Zoe, but I could pretty much guarantee that she’d built walls too and, instead of coaxing her into lowering the drawbridge, I might have just fired a canon at them.
With a sinking stomach, I also realised that I hadn’t offered her a hot meal and I’d specifically told Jim that was my intention and to tell Zoe that. So not only had I messed up the conversation, I hadn’t even kept my promise. She’d probably left the café thinking I wasn’t just an interferer but a liar too. Great start! I’d have to hope that Zoe thought about my offer and came back to The Chocolate Pot with a change of heart, at which point I could apologise and ask if we could start over.
11
JED
It was mid-morning the following day and I heard Lucy’s voice on the stairs.
‘He won’t mind,’ she said. ‘I think he’ll be pleased to see you.’
I paused with my pastel between my fingers. Was she with Aaron?
Moments later, Lucy appeared. ‘You’ve got a visitor, Dad. See you later.’
She stepped aside and, sure enough, Aaron was standing there, his eyes cast down to the floor. I’d hoped he’d come in to collect Wally but I hadn’t anticipated a visit quite so soon.
‘Come in. I don’t bite, although Wally might.’
Aaron looked up with a ghost of a smile. ‘He’s here?’
‘Of course! I said I’d bring him in and I meant it.’ I put my pastel down and held up my grubby hands. ‘I’d better not touch him, but he’s on the chair by the window if you want to fetch him.’
The spring in his step didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the big hug he gave the wombat. He might be on thecusp of becoming a teenager but there was still a little boy in there, joyful at being reunited with his long-lost friend.
‘Wally was the model for the print you were looking at yesterday,’ I said. ‘He was good at it. Didn’t wriggle about too much.’
That even drew a laugh.
‘Did you ask your mum about him?’ I asked.
Aaron shook his head. ‘Not yet. Grandad went for chemo yesterday so it wasn’t a good time.’
‘How did it go?’
‘Okay, I think. He was tired when he got back.’
‘He’s a good bloke, your grandad. I hope the treatment does the trick.’
Aaron nodded. ‘Me too.’ Still holding Wally to his chest, he nodded towards the easel on which the finished sheep raft race rested. ‘I didn’t see the race. Is that what happened?’
‘Kind of. One of the rafts did disintegrate but there were also a couple of the teams who got into a punch-up. I decided it probably wasn’t best to capture that. Oh, and there weren’t any sheep but, you know, artistic licence and all that.’
I don’t think he intended for it to happen, but another laugh slipped out at my sheep comment.
