I’d call him a dick to his face if he didn’t keep telling my truth for me.
“I can borrow you for an hour first, yes? Because I can’t think of a better person to let my summer school candidates know that they can rewrite their stories. You did it, so they can too. And you’ve visited the island, haven’t you?”
I have, and I spotted more than seals there, or a castle. It’s where we spent weeks once Mum’s pattern breaking course was over, working through more emotions than I knew existed with the help of the school counsellor who came home on the same train as her. That means I can nod when Luke says, “It’s the ideal spot for people to face where they’ve come from with no distractions. There’s even a training centre hidden away there that barely gets any use in summer. It’s the perfect place to test our summer school concept.”
He leans on me a touch harder. “Getting burned-out teachers back where they belong is my next joint project, but for what it’s worth, if you did surprise Joe later with a question about a joint project of your own, I think you’d like his answer.”
I hope I will when Joe finally gets back. I’ll ask him myself then.
Regardless, it’s too late for second guessing.
A band of gold engraved inside withSoon & Foreveralready burns a hole in my pocket.
JOE
Meera isn’t the only person I know with a ladder-related death wish. Charles proves he must share a similar gene for high-rise adventure when I get back to Cornwall.
As soon as I pull into the car park, I spot him at the very top of the tallest set this school possesses, although he doesn’t risk his life to splash Glynn Harber with the same sunny paint as my nephew’s nursery. Charles almost scores a visit to the fracture clinic by stringing up brightly coloured bunting, and after a year of fifty percent of my time being based here, I know why.
Glynn Harber isn’t only a school of second chances. And it isn’t only a safe harbour for the city kids I still spend half my work life helping to find their way here. It’s a school built for celebrations.
I believe that even more each time I return with new recruits who get greeted as if they’re guests of honour instead of criminals in the making. Or maybe they’re more like missing puzzle pieces. This school is more complete with each version of Noah or Kwasi that I steer here. And yes, I’ve come back alone today, but I still believe that nothing spells welcome homemore than the sight of those fluttering triangles of fabric and the prospect of Isaac waiting for me.
That’s who I’d usually seek out first.
Seek him out?
Typically, I’d take a deep breath and let myself feel a tug that only gets stronger with each month passing. It always leads me in the same direction—to the library he’s made his own—but today I abandon that urge and instead run to steady a shaking ladder.
Charles peers down at me his eyes warm and merry. “Well, hello there, handsome stranger. You’ve been gone for ages. I was worried you wouldn’t make it back in time.”
“For what?”
I’m not sure rabbits can climb ladders. Charles does a pretty good impression of one caught in headlights until he stutters, “F-for the summer school interviews?”
I squint, fairly sure that isn’t what he thinks I’m running late for—I already told Luke I might not make it back in time to meet his candidates. And I told him that I had plans this afternoon that involve Josh once he’s done giving the talks that brought him here a day ahead of me. But I also know it’s almost impossible to keep secrets in a team as tightknit as ours. “Hugo told you about what I’m planning for Isaac’s birthday?”
Charles descends the ladder in a hurry, beaming again. “No, but I guessed when he wouldn’t stop smiling after your last phone call.” He lowers his voice. “Are you going to do it right now?”
“Not yet.” I repeat a promise I once made to Lenny. “Soon.” I check my phone for a message from Dad. “Really soon.”
“At least go let Isaac know you’re back. He hasn’t stopped popping out to check the car park. Bless him, he keeps looking where he used to park his van before it went to the big scrapyard in the sky. Then he checks all the other cars to see if yours is back. Anyone would think he missed you!”
He calls that out from behind me.
I’m already jogging away to track down someone I’ve missed too, and fuck only being away for a few weeks. A single day without getting to wake up with Isaac feels like forever, and I have a little celebration of my own the moment I finally do see him.
He’s busy in the courtyard, surrounded by candidates for Luke’s new venture. Right now, I can’t pay attention to anyone but him, and from behind, Isaac is exactly the same long, lean, and windswept that I remember from the lay-by where I first saw him again in daylight. Over twelve months later, his hair is teased by a similar breeze that blows his story in my direction.
“Once upon a time, a librarian saved my future.”
I can’t help wanting to eavesdrop, even though I already know the ending of this story. It still does something to me whenever Isaac weaves his truth with fiction for kids. Right now, he does it in front of an audience of adults.
“She taught me that standing up for kids is everybody’s business. That anyone can be a role model. I did that with a mobile library to let kids who were missing a parent know they weren’t alone. Sounds to me like some of you have stories of your own about doing the same as my first hero. You stood up for kids, only you didn’t get the same happy ending as me.” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Want to know a secret? Come inside my mobile library, and I’ll tell you.”
Some of his audience smile at him sliding open an invisible van door complete with the loud clunk and groan his old rust bucket always used to let out. Isaac role-plays getting into a vehicle I know he misses. He has to make do with sitting on one of the mats that used to live in the back of his Transit when dirty spark plugs were its only problem. That’s where he arranges more mats, then looks up to see me watching.
If there’s a better sight in the world, I’ve yet to see it. No other welcome home comes close, and I don’t know when Charles strung bunting inside my chest, but I’m almost certain that’s what flutters when Isaac blows me a quick kiss his audience can’t see.