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“Of course. As long as you're happy to say hello, I am too.” It's something I've encountered before. Clients never know how to treat me outside of the confines of the clinic. I've always let them take the lead. If they want to acknowledge me, I'm happy to respond, and if they'd rather pretend I don't exist, that's fine too. Looking at Laurence, I notice that in spite of his reticence there's a need in his eyes. To talk. To share. To be heard.
“Would you like to join me?” I ask. There's something about him that makes me want to speak formally. Perhaps the fact he's a head teacher.
“Only if I'm not disturbing you.”
“Company would be nice.”
Immediately, his shoulders relax. I watch as he pulls a chair over from a half-empty table and orders an Americano. In spite of the fact it's a weekend he's still perfectly turned out. Dark blue slacks and a white button down shirt.
“What’s new with you?” I ask, after his drink finally arrives.
Laurence pours a packet of sugar into his coffee, stirring it slowly as the brown granules slowly sink into the liquid. “Same old, same old. We saw Tom again on Friday. He had a black eye. Won't tell us how he got it.”
Tom is only twenty years old. He's been in prison for nine months now. It's been less than a year since Laurence's world was torn apart.
“How did you feel?” Old habits die hard. Seeing this proud man tremble before me, I can't help but feel sympathy piercing my heart.
“Like I've failed him. Completely and utterly. Didn't manage to teach him right from wrong. Can't protect him from the thugs that slam their fists in his face. I'm in charge of a generation of children at my school and I can't even bring my son up right.” Laurence stares down at his feet. “And to top it all, Julie's talking about separating. We don’t talk anymore. I used to think I had everything. The best job, a perfect family. Turns out it was all an illusion.”
Horrified, I watch as a single tear falls onto the plastic table top. The urge to take him in my arms and hug him is huge. He's a shadow of a man, confused and stumbling. Not able to understand how it all went so wrong.
“Why don't you talk anymore?”
He rubs his face with the heel of his hands. “I don't know. Maybe she blames me for everything. God knows I blame myself.”
“Do you really think you're to blame?”
Looking at me through red-rimmed eyes, Laurence shrugs. “I'm not sure of anything anymore. I used to be so certain, thought I knew right from wrong. But if you offered me a way to get Tom out of prison I’d do it. Even if it meant breaking the law.”
I reach out, covering his hand with my own. “Of course you would.”
“But I can't change any of it. I just want to go back in time. Make sure I listened to him, spent time with him.”
“You can still do that, when he's released.” I try to find the words to reassure him. But there's no reassurance when his world is crumbling around him. Laurence slides his hand from beneath mine, running it through his silver hair.
“It might be too late. I'll have lost everything by then. My son, my wife, my family.” A flock of birds choose that moment to swoop down, landing on the concrete around us, pecking at the crumbs left behind by a multitude of diners. “You have a son, don't you?”
I nod. “He's a baby.”
“Where is he?”
His question takes me by surprise. It's a Sunday morning, of course I should be with Max.
“He's with his father.”
“Make sure you appreciate your time with him. Tell him you love him. Don't make the mistakes I did.”
Long after our coffees cups are empty, and Laurence has headed back to his silent house, I'm still contemplating his words. Remembering the lost expression on his face as he talked about Tom and Julie. It m
akes me think about Max, and about all the trials we have ahead of us. The cut knees, and the broken hearts and the rivers of tears before bedtime. We came so close to losing him, and somehow we did manage to lose ourselves. That special spark that tied us together. The certainty that it was us against the world.
I want it back. All of it. The sleepless nights and the too-early mornings. The tears and the giggles and the warm feeling of Alex's body wrapped around mine. I want his voice to wake me up and his hands to hold me when I drift off to sleep.
I want my family back.
I just have no idea how to make it happen.
* * *
