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‘Thank you, Just Janie. Asante. One day I will repay all of this money to you. When I have a job.’
‘Well, you can’t do that yet,’ I remind him, ‘so let’s not worry about it. This is my gift to you.’ I tuck my arm in his. ‘We can’t have you freezing to death.’
He keeps staring at himself in amazement as we pass by the shop windows, drawn by his own unfamiliar reflection. ‘Now no one will know that I am not an English gentleman,’ he says proudly as he strokes his shirt.
‘No,’ I agree fondly, gazing up at all six-foot several of him. ‘They certainly wouldn’t.’
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Back at Little Cottage, I call Mike who comes straight over to collect his clothes, which are surplus to requirements now that we’ve kitted out Dominic in things that actually fit.
‘Look at you, dude,’ Mike says, his voice full of genuine admiration. ‘I hardly recognised you.’
Dominic beams with pride and strokes the front of his shirt again. Mike holds up his hand and they high-five each other.
‘What did you think of Milton Keynes, mate?’ he asks as I hand over the cup of tea I’ve made for him.
‘It was a very frightening place,’ he admits.
‘Then you really are a Western bloke,’ Mike assures him. ‘We’re all frightened of shopping centres.’
Dominic laughs at that. ‘Janie told me that but I thought she was just teasing me.’ He sips at his glass of warm milk.
‘No way.’
‘Then I do not feel like less of a man now.’
‘Settling in? Other than the shopping thing?’
‘Yes,’ Dominic says. ‘I think that I will like it here.’
‘You’ll have to do some male bonding stuff,’ I suggest. ‘Mike can take you down to the pub and to a football match.’
‘I support Arsenal,’ Dominic informs him.
‘No accounting for taste,’ Mike says. ‘I’m a Spurs man, myself.’
‘Tottenham Hotspur. Robbie Keane. Peter Crouch,’ Dominic says, showing off his knowledge of English teams.
‘We’ll have to catch a game together.’
Dominic beams. ‘I would like that very much, Mike.’
A spit of rain starts to hit the windows in fat splats. ‘Oh, look at that,’ I complain. ‘Did they forecast rain?’
‘All week,’ Mike says.
‘Bloody weather,’ I mutter. ‘I was going to walk around the village with Dominic this afternoon.’
Dominic walks to the window and presses his hand against the glass. ‘I have not seen rain in many years,’ he breathes. ‘How I wish that I could send some home to my family. They are in terrible need of it.’
Now I feel guilty about complaining.
‘I would like to go out in it,’ Dominic says, looking for my agreement.
‘Of course,’ I say. ‘If you want to. Put your coat on so you don’t catch your death of cold.’
‘No. I will take off my fine clothes,’ he says. ‘I do not want them to spoil.’
‘A bit of rain won’t hurt them . . .’
But he’s already climbing the stairs and moments later he comes down in his shuka and bare feet. The rain is heavy now, coming down sideways, helped along by a steady wind.
‘You can’t go out like that,’ I protest.
‘I would like to feel the rain on my skin,’ he says and a second later he’s out of the back door and in the garden.
Mike and I stand at the window and watch him.
Dominic, in the middle of my small patch of lawn, holds his hands up to the rain and starts to chant a high-pitched song that he offers up to the sky. The rain pours down. He starts to dance around in a circle, stamping his feet. The smile on his face is ecstatic.
I chew at my fingernail. ‘I think I should go out there with him,’ I say to my friend.
‘Maybe it wouldn’t be good to leave him alone,’ Mike agrees.
Question is, do I wrap up or strip off?
‘I’ll get out of your hair.’
‘Don’t fancy joining us?’
‘I’ll do a lot for you, Janie, but getting piss-wet through in the middle of winter isn’t at the top of my list. I’ll give it a miss, thanks.’
‘Coward.’
Mike laughs and heads for the door. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
‘Thanks, Mike.’
‘Hakuna whatever it is,’ he throws back.
‘Hakuna matata!’ I shout out.
In the kitchen, I strip down to my undies and then wrap myself in a big fluffy towel that I grab from the utility room. I also slip on the Crocs that I keep in there for trogging about in the garden.
‘Bloody hell,’ I mutter to myself. Then, bravely, I step out into the garden and join Dominic in the rain.
