Kate
Dark rainclouds blanketed London. That in itself wasn’t unusual, yet it seemed to me that the city was even greyer and bleaker than usual, as if the world was mourning with me on the anniversary of my mum’s death. She had died exactly a year ago, and the memory of her was particularly heavy today. Since waking, a crushing weight had settled on my chest, pinning me to the bed.
Motionless, I stared at the ceiling and fought the urge to message Henry. He would notice right away that something was wrong, but I didn’t want him to worry or give him the feeling that he had to take care of me. I would get through this day without him. I could manage alone. That’s what I told myself, even though I would have given anything right then for one of his warm hugs.
At least I’d had foresight enough to provide a distraction for today. I checked the time. I would have to get up now if I was going to make it. I had suggested to Tilly that I visit her at the Hope Harbour office, which would hopefully take my mind off things. I forced myself to get up and dragged myself to the shower. The warm water wasn’t as satisfying today as it was on other days; I had no capacity for satisfaction today. My heart was entirely consumed by an overwhelming grief that I felt deep in my bones.
I checked off the steps of my morning routine absent-mindedly before examining myself in the mirror to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything. Hair.Check.Jumper.Check.Trousers.Check.Shoes.Check.Jacket.Check.Rucksack.Check.I looked the same as always, except for the pain in my eyes. But maybe I was just imagining that.
Before I left my room, I pinched my cheeks to make myself look less pale and joyless. I was no longer so sure it was a good idea to meet Tilly today. I wasn’t myself at all, but then again, I didn’t want to sit around in my room all day, running through all the what-ifs. It didn’t matter what might have happened if I had managed to convince my mum to go to rehab. Or if I’d called the ambulance in time. She was gone, and no amount of fantasising or mind games would bring her back.
I crossed the lobby with my head down. Theodore, already sitting at the piano, greeted me, but I didn’t greet him back. I couldn’t. At reception, I wordlessly handed my key to Philippa.
Lost in my own grey world, I left the hotel through the back entrance and made my way to the closest station. I had treated myself to the luxury of an Oyster card a few days ago, so I could finally take the Tube again. I had spent the last few months walking around London, but I didn’t have the strength today to trek through the city for an hour.
Twenty minutes later, I stood in front of Hope Harbour headquarters, an unassuming residential building with a light facade. Nothing about it suggested that it housed a charity organisation, but the name on the buzzer confirmed I was at the right place. I pressed the button. A buzzing sounded, and then Tilly opened the door. Her cheerful face felt like a punch to my gut.
“Hello, Kate!”
“Hi.” I smiled wanly, trying to act normal. Based on her reaction, it looked like I had succeeded.
“I’m happy you’re here. Come in!”
Tilly waved me inside, and I was grateful to skip the small talk and jump right in with the tour. As we walked, Tilly told me how she had come to work for Hope Harbour. I didn’t have to say very much; I just listened as she explained the organisation’s tasks and projects, introducing me to people behind their desks as we went.
Hope Harbour had few permanent employees and plenty of volunteers. Many of them were pensioners looking for meaningful work and community. The atmosphere was warm and friendly. Under different circumstances, I knew I would have loved being here, but the persistent ache in my chest kept bringing my thoughts back to my mum. It was around this time one year ago that I had spoken to her for the last time. I couldn’t remember what she had said, but it had probably been something mundane, such as a reminder to take out the bin or buy pasta.
“That’s Emanuel,” Tilly said, pointing at an older man whose brown hair was peppered with grey. “He’s been volunteering for Hope Harbour for two years, his main task being food procurement. We work closely with several supermarkets and even manufacturers who provide us with surplus goods—items that don’t meet retail standards. Food with misprinted packaging, for example.”
Emanuel glanced up from a computer that looked like a relic from the last decade and was in desperate need of replacing. He smiled at me, his leathery skin suggesting a life spent in the sun. “Hey, a new face. I didn’t know we were expecting reinforcement. Welcome to Hope Harbour!”
I shook my head. He wasn’t the first to mistake me for a new employee, although the idea was appealing after everything I had seen. Was Tilly hiring? Perhaps I would ask her about it later.
“No, I don’t work here. I’m just getting a tour.”
“Kate’s from The Darlington,” Tilly explained. “It was her idea for this year’s Pearl Gala to support Hope Harbour.” That wasn’t entirely accurate, and I had corrected her more than once, but she stuck to this version of the story.
Emanuel’s eyes widened. “That’s amazing. Thank you!”
I smiled self-consciously. I would pass the thanks on to Henry. He deserved some praise and recognition, since he had been working tirelessly on the gala for weeks and wasn’t receiving nearly enough credit.
Emanuel was the last stop on Tilly’s tour before she led me to her small office. The furniture was old and scratched. Folders were crammed like sardines into the shelves, and a plant that looked like it was on its last legs stood on the windowsill, its leaves drooping.
“Take a seat,” Tilly said, gesturing at the chair in front of her desk.
I sat down and cast an anxious glance at the clock. Only two hours had passed since I had left the hotel. I had hoped the tour would keep me distracted for longer. Tilly leaned back in her chair, studying me over the rims of her gold-framed glasses. My stomach clenched, and I forced my mouth to smile in the hope that I would look less sad.
“Henry and I discussed the Pearl Gala schedule a few days ago,” Tilly said. “I don’t know how familiar you are with it, but at some point during the evening, the organisation that the gala is fundraising for introduces itself. I’ll give a short speech. To make sure it isn’t too dry, I thought it might be nice to have someone with personal experience introduce people to the topic of homelessness. You came to mind straightaway.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Oh. You want me to speak at the gala?”
Tilly nodded. “Yes. But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
I tugged nervously at a loose thread on my leather jacket. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. No one at the hotel knows that I was homeless, and I want it to stay that way for now. Having someone with experience speak is a good idea, though.”
Although Tilly smiled, I could see she was disappointed. “That’s a shame, but I understand. And don’t worry, I’ve not told anyone here about your past.”
“Thank you, and... I’m really sorry,” I apologised again. The idea of revealing to all these ultrarich people that I’d once been ultrapoor was daunting. Still, I would have done it to support Hope Harbour, if the decision didn’t affect Henry as well as me. I’d promised him I’d keep my mouth shut about my past, and I intended to keep my promise.
