Chapter 17
17
JOE
The next afternoon, Hugo walks with me down to the school, talking the whole way. The difference today is that he doesn’t do that to give me time to think like when all I could see were trees. Instead, he answers my questions.
“How did I end up with a village parish to minister and a school full of children to support as well as a leadership role in a migrant project?” He stops for little Adam to clamber onto a tree stump at the edge of the car park. “That’s hard to explain.”
“And to balance?”
“That too.” He’s wry. And honest. “Thankfully, I share my parish workload with other clergy. Now that the school is growing, pastoral care is my biggest challenge. The end result makes the workload worth it for both Luke and me. What I sometimes forget is the impact of that workload on others.”
His son has similar trouble with balance, it seems. He crouches on the top of that tree stump, wobbling until he trusts himself to stand upright, then he jumps with zero forward thinking.
Hugo nearly catches him, moving fast for someone I’ve witnessed limping, but everyone has their limits, and Adam almost face-plants.
I scoop him up just in time, and turn a scary tumble into a superhero swoop through the air that comes with shrieks of laughter before I set Adam on his feet and we keep walking.
“Thank you,” Hugo says quietly on the way to the courtyard. “But that’s a good example. I have faith that I won’t truly be given more than I can manage, but how I manage is the challenge. There’s no doubt I’ve stumbled a few times and needed help. Been so wrapped up in work that I haven’t realised how much of my load my most important people have fielded for me.”
“More hands make light work, right?” That’s been true in every school team I’ve been part of. And I saw evidence of the same last night while Hugo and Luke picked my brains about their cohort of teens at high risk of re-offending. Charles had fielded parish phone calls during dinner and had still made Hugo laugh over and over, all while rocking babies. “Good thing you’ve got Charles.”
“To share my workload?” Hugo stops in the courtyard beside a picnic bench where Adam crouches, busy investigating a patch of dandelions and daisies. “That’s love, isn’t it? Giving and taking support.” He’s frank again. “I’m not sure I’ve struck that balance lately, but wanting Charles to have a lifetime of happiness is my number one driver. My entire reason for being. It’s that simple.” He’s contemplative for a long moment. “I do need to find more balance, but speaking of happy moments...”
I turn to see what he has noticed.
Lenny is visible through the library window. He’s busy with a glue stick, the tip of his tongue peeking out, until Adam spots a butterfly and Lenny hears his shout.
I don’t think he notices Hugo. This grin is only for me—a happy moment of my own when he runs for the window and raps on it.
“Joe! Look! I stuck puppies in my scrapbook!”
I can’t play it cool in front of someone this pleased to see me, and not only because it’s so good to hear Lenny this chatty. Behind him, Isaac’s smile is also blinding. Hugo has to notice that I can’t do anything but return it. His own half-smile makes an appearance after Isaac opens the window for his brother, and I lean in to pull Lenny through the opening.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, mate.” I wink at him, but it’s Isaac I soak up until Lenny tugs me to the picnic table to admire his new scrapbook entries. I can still hear what Hugo tells Isaac.
“I always think laughter is the sound of healing in action. So good to hear him happy, and I’m very happy to see you making the library your own, but you do know that you don’t need to spend your Sunday working, don’t you?”He snorts softly, and this comes with another wry look my way. “I appreciate that’s a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black after our conversation, but at least Charles does make me take time off to play.” He aims this at Isaac. “How about you do the same for the rest of the weekend? Work can wait until Monday.”
The courtyard acoustics mean I hear this even when Hugo lowers his voice. “Last night, Joseph mentioned that you were still having trouble establishing regular contact with your mother. That she seems to be lost in the system since moving location. Sometimes doors open more easily for clergy. Can I reach out to her prison chaplain for you? See if they can’t help her find her way out of whatever maze she’s lost in?”
Like yesterday, Isaac doesn’t seem to need time to think about his answer.
“Yes, thank you. That would be great.”
“Consider it done.”
Isaac leaves the library and work behind. He joins Hugo to finish their conversation in the shadow of the building while I turn scrapbook pages in sunshine with one ear peeled.
“And one more thing,” Hugo tells him. “Joseph also raised the issue of how long she’s been held on remand. That it isn’t appropriate or usual in her circumstances. He asked if we had any experience with that for past students and if we could point you in the direction of anyone else who might be able to help you navigate those waters for her.”
Hugo meets my eye across the courtyard, his next half-smile coming with his brow furrowing.
“It did prompt Luke and me to think harder. I’m only sorry we didn’t do that sooner. That we were too busy to identify it ourselves as an issue we might help with. I hope you don’t mind that we discussed your situation.”
“Joe talked about me?”
Hugo laughs. “Frankly, it would have been hard to stop him. But it was a useful reminder that the school often needs legal support, and that my husband’s best friend gives it. Could I ask him to advise?—”
I expect Isaac to snap another quick yes. He doesn’t.
“No.”
That’s blunt. So is?—
“I can’t afford any more legal advice. I checked. It would cost thousands to defend her. She does have a free legal aid lawyer.”
Hugo is as blunt as him. “Who hasn’t helped her. I’m sure we could do better for her if we reach out to our contacts.”
I can’t keep in a suggestion. “Let Hugo help.” That echoes across the courtyard.
Isaac’s gaze flicks between us before staying on Hugo. “You don’t even know her.”
“I know her sons.”
Isaac is standing still. His arms are empty. There’s no reason for him to stagger.
I want to catch him. Need to. I get up in a hurry to join them only for Hugo to beat me to it, and I can’t feel bad about him swooping in like I did for little Adam. I guess that only proves you can take a welfare worker out of a team, but those instincts to help and be helped linger.
Hugo steadies Isaac like I steadied his son. “No, I don’t know your mother, but someone taught you how to care, Isaac. How to support your brother. I’m going to assume that she’d appreciate you being supported for a while.” He steps back to clasp Isaac’s shoulders. “Set down some of those weights you’ve carried for her. Let us pick them up by calling in a few favours. No charge. No commitment or promises. Let’s just see what happens, yes? Together.”
Isaac is silent.
I so want to answer for him. Reining in that urge is tough, and I think Hugo shares my struggle. He even models nodding, then waits until Isaac comes to his own decision.
“Yeah. Yes, I mean. Please go ahead and do that.”
“Good.” Hugo squeezes Isaac’s shoulders one last time. “Now don’t you go picking up those weights anytime soon. Do the same as my husband makes me every Sunday.”
He doesn’t say go play aloud.
I still do my best to make that happen.
I’m only fucked off that I can’t stay for longer—there are only a few hours left of this flying visit, but Lenny jumps at the chance to fill them. He starts us off by giving me a tour of an empty playground.
“This is where you play with your mates, Len? Nice.” When he’s busy demonstrating how to cross a sandpit on a plank bridge, I admit, “Kinda wish I could cancel my meeting. Stay and play instead.”
Isaac stands so close our shoulders touch. “Not looking forward to dodging any more hot chocolate?”
“Ha!” My gaze lands on Len. “More like I’m not looking forward to saying goodbye when I just got here.” I press against Isaac’s shoulder. “To either of you. I’ll be back as soon as I reach a gap in my court schedule.” That sounds too full on. Too assumptive, like when I almost answered Hugo for him. I quickly change the subject. “Luke said you’ll have a busy week ahead too. Got the vibe over dinner that he was telling me to give you a bit of breathing space.” I can’t help asking, “I am being too full on, yeah? Too keen, when you still got a lot on your plate. Too pushy about coming back as soon as I can.”
Isaac gets into my space.
“Nope.”
Len is nearly done crossing his bridge. Isaac’s nowhere near done with me.
“Nope.”
His kiss is brief. I still feel how much he means this.
“And nope.”
I touch my lips. “Three nopes in a row?” I can’t repress a grin. Don’t even try to. “Good.”
Lenny is a distraction for a few minutes. Then I pick up from where I left off. “Luke said you did a lot of walking and talking with him last week.” I point up at a window in the main school building. “And he said he could hear you doing even more talking from up there. Yap, yap, yap, he said, all week long.”
“He said that?” Isaac laughs loud enough that I bet Luke could hear if he was in his study. “Keeping it real, I can’t believe I actually had his permission to chat shit out here every day.”
“With the kids? You don’t chat shit. I’ve heard you telling stories, remember. You’ve got the gift. Pleased for you, mate. You keep yapping. I’d fucking love to listen.”
I almost return that fierce and hard kiss to punctuate how much I mean that, only the man himself appears, although Luke doesn’t come over. He waves while leading a crowd of students to a minibus complete with a trailer full of surfboards, and I can’t help sighing as they drive off for a weekend surf.
Beautiful day to catch a few waves.
Isaac misses nothing. “We could catch them up if you want to surf before leaving. Luke might have a spare wetsuit, but it’s warm enough you won’t need one.” Just as quickly, he clamps his mouth closed as if he wishes he’d kept it shut instead of speaking.
Maybe he noticed that my hands have found my pockets. I downplay that instinctive reaction at the thought of more eyes on me. “Nah. It’s no biggie. Another time, yeah?”
“You know what that sounded like though?” Isaac continues without waiting for me to answer. “It sounded like you wishing for something you think you can’t have.” I don’t know why he asks, “You really spent yesterday evening telling Luke and Hugo to think harder for me. And for Mum?”
I nod.
“Who thinks harder for you?”
I can’t answer.
He does it for me by repeating moves I’d almost forgotten. His chin lifts, eyes narrowed to slits lined with thick black lashes. “I saw something this week that made me think of you. Come with me. I’ll show you.”
He must have walked and talked his way through these woods a whole lot to find this path—it’s almost hidden, but Lenny whoops as soon as we head uphill. Not in the direction of the Rectory. We follow the banks of a stream to a wall of boulders where Lenny hops, skips, and jumps ahead to show me a gap, and I get a first glimpse of what those rocks hide.
This pool looks like something out of a story. Sun dapples the shallows at its edges and dragonflies skim deeper water.
“Wow.”
Lenny tells me all about it, nothing quiet about these statements that give Isaac a run for his yap-yap-yapping money. “Hayden teaches us how to swim here. Tor can jump in. So can Asa. Me and Hadi can’t.” He tags on a word that sums up everything I’ve seen and heard about this school that values potential. “Yet.”
“You will, mate. You just need more practice.” I can’t help laughing at Lenny stripping out of his T-shirt. “But maybe not right now.”
“Why not?” Isaac’s own T-shirt muffles his question. He pulls it over his head, and I’ve seen him wear so many expressions, but I don’t know how to name what this dappled light shows. It darts just below his surface like the little fish that Lenny chases.
He slips, arms wheeling, and I wheel just as fast to catch him, which breaks a moment Isaac isn’t ready to let pass without speaking. He’s still dappled by sunshine, his voice as fractured as the green and gold light filtered by leaves.
“Swim, Joe.”
I do once I’ve stripped to my boxers, leaving my shirt behind for once and wading into water that is only chilly under the trees. The spot I find in sunlight is warm like I am all over again to see Isaac watching.
No. Not watching, or staring at my scars.
He stands guard, and I’m a little fractured too by that. Can hear it when Lenny wades in to join me and my voice cracks. “Hey, wait. How well can you swim, mate?” I relax once Isaac digs in a nearby bin for water wings and floats that he throws our way, and once I’m sure Lenny won’t sink, I follow what might have sounded like an order from anyone else. From Isaac, that instruction to swim is a gift, and for the first time in years, I don’t think twice.
I play by testing the depth of the pool first, then give my own brother a run for his data-collecting money by figuring out which boulders I can jump from. I bet my cannonballing gets old fast. I splash Isaac so many times it should wear out his sense of humour. He laughs instead. Then he yells when I pull him under.
Lenny laughs like a drain when his brother bobs to the surface. We all play then, until Lenny runs out of steam and sits in the shallows to spot more little fishes.
Isaac joins me where it’s sunny. He’s draped with water weeds, his hair a wet disaster, and he looks so easy in his skin that I realise I am too.
If a clock ticks, I don’t hear it. I forget too that a train will carry me away when Isaac rests against the same sun-warmed stone as me, one of his legs over mine, like he’s worried I might float away without him as an anchor.
No chance.
He finally acknowledges what can’t be put off.
“Ten more minutes, Len.” His leg hooked over mine pulls me even closer. We’re hip-to-hip instead of heart-to-heart. Mine clenches as soon as he asks, “This was okay?”
“Okay?” I let out a breath that goes on for forever. “It was pure fucking magic.” So is Isaac, to me. And so is getting one last chance to support his suddenly worried little brother.
Len hesitates on the lowest rock around this pool, poised inches above the water to jump in for a last swim.
“You can jump, mate.” I cut like a knife through the water to open scarred arms for him. “I won’t let you sink.”
Isaac agrees from the shallows. “You can jump, Len.” He trusts that I’ll catch his brother for him. Believes in me. “You don’t need to worry about falling.” That belief is as clear as the water Lenny splashes into with me right there to catch him.
This is clear too.
Don’t worry about falling?
Too late, mate.
I already fell for Isaac.