Page 79 of One Day Like This (Excess All Areas 1)

Ibrahim grinned. “I think you need to too. We’ll manage.”

Two hours later, Izabel headed out just as Joe and the others were leaving.

Dominic and Jackson walked on ahead to a dark blue van with the barber’s logo etched on the side.

“Do you ever struggle when you go home at night?” she asked.

Joe stepped onto the street. The crispness of autumn settled around them, and Izabel tugged her denim jacket a little tighter around her middle. “What do you mean?”

“I go home at night and I think about this place. It’s not enough. They deserve more basic humanity than they get. That a haircut is such a big deal. It just seems unfair.”

Joe ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I just bought a place in Didsbury Village. Sure, I’ll be paying for it for the next twenty years, but at least it’s all mine. It is unfair that I get the chance to do that, and others don’t. But, before I go to bed, I look in the mirror and I ask myself if I made a difference today. And if the answer is yes, I let it go. I don’t measure it. I don’t ask myself, did I do enough? Or, could I have done more? It’s a binary yes-or-no answer. Did I make a difference? And if the answer is yes, I put my head down on the pillow and sleep.”

“I’ve been trying to help Jon, but the hoops they’re putting him through to get housing is ridiculous. And that help isn’t scalable. I can’t help ten thousand Jons at a time.”

“Izabel, you don’t seem to realise you’re already the difference.”

“Some days it doesn’t feel like it.”

Joe placed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it again. “Says the woman organising a huge concert to raise funds for the shelter. Says the woman who spends her evenings chasing down charitable donations from sock companies, and white goods manufacturers, and fucking pasta.”

“When you say it like that, I suppose it has to be enough.”

“It is. Listen. Me and the boys were chatting while working in there. We have some ideas about the gig. I have some contacts. Big and small. Like, I know a freelance documentary maker for Channel 4—I wonder if he’d be interested in this story. Or, what if you could just get local news interest? Want to go grab a drink with me, Dom, and Jackson so we can go through them all?”

“Iz?” Matt’s voice cut through the silence between her and Joe.

Izabel turned to see Matt walking towards her in his work clothes, guitar over his back, but instead of the smile and dimples she was expecting, his face looked like thunder.

“Hey, Matt. Do you know Joe? He runs Lockwood Fades over by Affleck’s. Joe, this is Matt from Luke’s band.”

Joe smiled and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. It’s great you can help Izabel out with her concert now she has a venue.”

Matt glared at Joe’s hand for an incredibly awkward moment before finally shaking it. “Of course we’re going to help her out. You got a venue?”

“I tried to call you to let you know. We have the Convention Complex.” The excitement she’d felt while talking about the project with Joe settled like concrete in her stomach.

“Sorry, we had a rehearsal, then a band meeting. Shit got contentious. Jase was fighting us on this new song we’re working on.”

Joe grinned. “S’okay. We were able to help her out. In fact, we were just going to go brainstorm some ideas.” Joe looked to Izabel. “You ready, Iz?”

Matt loomed slightly behind her with a look on his face that clearly stated he was pissed off. “You know what, I am. I’ll catch you later, Matt.”

“What the fuck, Iz?” He reached for her wrist.

“Give me a moment, Joe.”

Joe looked between them. “No worries, I’ll go start the van.”

“You want to tell me why he had his hand on you?” Matt said as the van door slammed.

“Not if you’re going to talk to me like a jerk, I don’t.”

Matt ran his hand across his face. “It’s a fairly straight forward question, Iz.”

“Oh, go away.” Her stomach sank at his behaviour.

“I walk up the street and I see a guy with his hand on you, and my first thought is perhaps you don’twanthis hands on you. So, I start to run down the street until I get close enough to see the stars in his eyes as he looks at you. And I see you, my girlfriend, not moving out of the way. What am I supposed to think?”

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