Page 5 of Love ad Lib
She was still holding his hand. He broke her clasp and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Er… I was named after my uncle.’
‘Amazing! Are you close? Tell me about him.’
It was like being assaulted by a sunny day. Her bright blue eyes held his, and his peripheral vision told him she was wearing yellow. Even her bobbed auburn hair seemed to glow.
He cleared his throat. ‘My uncle died when my mom was pregnant with me and my sister.’
Her face fell and she clutched his hand again. ‘I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for her.’
‘Um, she didn’t know him very well. He was my dad’s older brother.’
‘Such a shock for your family. Does your father talk about him much?’
What the fuck was going on? ‘Not much, but my grandmother does.’
‘Oh! I’m sure she would have shared so many wonderful memories of him with you. Do you remember any of your favourites?’
The more sensible part of Henry’s brain was yelling at him to extricate himself from this overly personal conversation immediately, however a part of him that had lain dormant for years was utterly disarmed. Words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.
‘She said he was thoughtful and polite, sensible and kind.’
‘And does she think the same of you?’
Heat ran up his neck into his cheeks. Her smile was so encouraging that before he was aware of doing so, he nodded.
She beamed at him. ‘I think that’s glorious. The worldneedsmore thoughtfulness and kindness in it.’
The fire in his face intensified.
‘And politeness and sensibleness.’ She frowned, still holding his hand. ‘Is “sensibleness” a word?’ She laughed and everything about her seemed to shine even brighter. ‘I try to be thoughtful, kind and polite, but I don’t think I’m particularly sensible. What’s your top tip for improving my sensibleness?’
His mind blanked. ‘Er, bulk buy toilet roll and keep one hidden in case of emergencies?’ he offered, not knowing where the thought had come from and internally cringing.
She let out a peal of laughter so warm and generous he knew she wasn’t laughing at him. ‘That’s perfect advice and one my housemate would do well to remember.’ She released his hands and clapped hers together. ‘Henry, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. We’re going to have a great time this morning.Ipromise to remember who you are, but Claire hasn’t met you yet, so please can you stick a label on your front with your name on it? They’re on the table over there.’
Henry nodded, utterly side-swiped by the encounter, and wandered over to the table. He stuck his name to his chest, then surveyed the room. Libby was greeting Carl like a long-lost friend, and Carl looked as if he didn’t know whether to pat her on the head or start flirting.
There was another woman in the room, greeting other team members with the same enthusiasm as Libby. This must be Claire. She was pregnant, wearing a bright green wrap dress and Wonder Woman Converse trainers.
Henry’s gaze slid back to Libby. On her feet were Dr Martens boots. Her dress was smart but utterly out of place in the environment of Conqueror. It was as yellow as a buttercup on a summer day, flaring out from the waist and ending just above her knee. In a room full of blacks and greys, the two women looked like pixies who'd slipped in through the window on a sunbeam.
Claire glanced at her watch and clapped her hands. ‘Okay, everybody, thank you all so much for being here today. Let’s form a circle.’
Henry shuffled into place with his colleagues, reminded of being back at Foxbrooke Primary School as a child.
‘I’m Claire, and this is Libby.’
‘Hi!’ Libby made eye contact with everyone as she waved.
‘I think we’re almost all here,’ Claire continued, ‘so, let’s make a start. Over the next couple of hours, we’re going to work on strengthening the interpersonal connections you have with the other members of your team.’
The door opened, and James entered. Libby broke away from the circle to greet him. Her voice was low, but her body language was enthusiastic and loud.
‘This workshop is about breaking organisational silos, collaborating, responding to change, and supporting one another,’ Claire continued as James joined the circle. ‘Our mission statement is “helping people be better versions of themselves”.’
James pointed at his chest. ‘Can’t improve on perfection.’
A ripple of laughter moved through the group.
