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“I already started breaking the ice with them on the way down here. They’re good kids.” His brow furrows in a much better Luke Lawson imitation than his first one. “I didn’t realise what they’d…”
“Been through to get here?” Luke’s hand sweeps up and down his sleeping daughter’s back. “And the hurdles they still face to move forward?”
Rae nods, and this sounds almost helpless from him. “After what they told me, I kinda want to draw it with them. Their futures. How to get there. So they can see what could be real for them.”
“They shared with you already?”
Rae huffs out a quiet laugh. “Probably because it was the only way to stop me talking.” He rubs at the back of his neck again. It looks as if heat climbs it. He’s rosier when he adds, “We’re from the same ends, aren’t we?”
“Ends?” Luke asks. “You mean from the same part of London?”
Rae nods. “Pretty much. Close enough that we all?—”
I’m not part of this conversation. I still can’t help saying, “Speak the same language?” I heard him do that with Noah, didn’t I, while we pitched tents together. Saw him chop away the silence Marc’s little brother wears like armour. Heard him make Noah laugh, which is a rare sound. “You had similar experiences to them?”
“Yeah, if you mean failing at school and spending most of my time dodging—” He falters while meeting Luke’s eyes. “You remember what we talked about, yeah? About what happens where we grew up.”
If he means he’s dodged gangs, Marc’s mentioned plenty to me.
“Yes. That’s why they’re here,” Luke murmurs.
I’ve never heard Rae this fierce. He virtually spits this. “Good. It’s a fu—” He instantly apologises. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean to swear around her.”
He means Jamila. “You didn’t, and she’s fast asleep,” Luke murmurs once more, low and gentle. “Go on.”
Rae does, if more quietly. “It’s worse now than ever. I went back after my meeting to tell my sister the good news and saw for myself.” He shakes his head. “I hate—” This abrupt stop doesn’t last for too long. He’s in a hurry all over again, this time speaking even faster. “Listen, if you let me have a base to work on my illustrations, I’ll definitely find time for them in return. Time for all of them.” Here’s an ace he’s saved until last. “And I’ll include the school in my story.”
“Include? How?”
I edge away from what sounds like a negotiation that Rae doesn’t seem to realise is already a done deal; he won over Luke Lawson the moment he said he wanted to sketch brighter futures for his students.
Backing away from them lets me see that Luke was right—Jamilaisout for the count against his shoulder. Her eyelashes are a dark fan casting long and spiky shadows. So do Rae’s. They fan so darkly against suddenly pale skin when he closes his eyes and goes for broke.
“I was gonna use the advance to fund my art project, but I could cut the school in on that.” This honesty feels brutal. “Might end up being half of nothing.” He’s optimistic next, which feels a lot more on-brand for him. “But it could end up being half of a decent number. Either way, I’ve got some time before I have to present my final illustrations. I’d be all yours until then. Could even come camping like you wanted, keep up that momentum of them getting to know each other. You said you do that right away, yeah? I’m ready.”
He swings around to show off his rucksack and his portfolio case slips from his shoulder in the process.
I can still move fast when I need to. I grab it, slide it back where it belongs, meet his eyes for a second time this evening, even while he speaks to Luke.
“That is, if you do want me around for longer?” Rae breaks eye contact with me, suddenly looking anywhere else. “Only there is one other thing I’d need.”
“Hold that thought.” Luke makes to pass him in the doorway. “Give me ten minutes to pop Jamila home and grab my rucksack. I’ll be right back.”
Rae blurts, “This is important.” He stops avoiding eye contact with me. His are as dark as his lashes. They’re alsoworried. “I can’t recreate the journey my Glynn Harber kid took without a translator.”
Luke pauses. Turns on his heel. Tilts his head and asks, “A translator?”
“Yeah. Someone to work closely with me on the unique spin I came up with.” This time Rae’s gaze doesn’t waver. “I can’t read Polish. I’d need help from someone who can.”
Who knows what my reaction shows him. All I do know is that he trips over his words like I did earlier with Luke. Rae rushes the exact same way now. “Because online translations won’t cut it for this story. Won’t help me to understand context or nuance. Not about the journey I want to follow.”
I picture that old diary again then, see it on the bed Rae borrowed at the stables. I also blink the moment Rae says, “Hayden’s perfect for me.”
It’s a trick of the falling light that I think Luke smiles. He’s just as serious as ever when he tilts his head again and murmurs, “Perfect for you?”
Rae is flustered. “I mean, he’d be a perfect research partner.” He keeps going, his chin rising like someone cornered yet coming out fighting regardless. “Only that means he’d need to stay on here for a while longer. But when I’m busy with your students or drawing, he could put that forest school he made into good use, couldn’t he? It’s a win-win for you, Luke. A two-for-one deal.”
Now I don’t only picture that diary full of Polish in childish handwriting. A whole conversation under canvas floods back where I said I wanted to see that clearing come to life. See it change with the seasons, along with the children in it. He can’t have any idea that I already asked Luke for that myself this evening—or that he was my inspiration to do it. Rae has still come all the way back here with a plan to make that a potentialoption for me, and for a second time this evening, I hear a crowd roar like I’m a winner.
