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‘Point taken. So the clinic’s a good thing and I’m a rubbish king. Is that right?’

She nodded. ‘You can write your own script, Alex. If you let the money and the title define you then maybe that’s what your father wanted. But if you define it, then you can do anything. Things ordinary people only dream of.’

As usual, Marie was right. He’d been letting the money and the title define him a little too much recently, and the idea that he could become anything he wanted lifted a weight from his shoulders. And right now he wanted to be a gardener.

Marie had finished planting three seed trays and they were lined up on one side of her. He hadn’t completed any yet. Alex picked up his tray.

‘I was wondering if you’d cover for me in the office. Today and tomorrow.’ He finished planting the tray and laid it down next to hers.

‘Yes, of course. You’re going out?’

‘No, I spoke with Jim Armitage and he’s given me the go-ahead to lay the pavers. I’ve never done anything like that before, but...’ He shrugged.

‘You can learn. I don’t think it’s that difficult.’ Marie’s sudden smile told him what she thought of the idea.

‘You don’t mind, then?’

It had been Marie’s idea for him to get involved with the garden, and now he was going one better.

‘Mind?’ Marie laughed, a clear happy sound that echoed slightly against the walls that surrounded them. ‘Do I mind you getting covered in brick dust and sand while I sit in a nice comfortable office? Nah, I don’t mind that at all.’

* * *

Marie had spent most of the morning in her office, trying to find things to do. When three-thirty came around and the stream of mothers walking past the clinic from the school began to start she fetched the printed leaflets which detailed the services the clinic had to offer from the stockroom, along with one of the chairs from the café, and went to sit out in the sun by the main gates.

It would be one thing if Alex had changed over a few years—everyone changed. But he’d always carried this burden. The pressure of inheriting the money after his father’s death had just made him less adept at hiding it.

And she’d never noticed. Caught up in her own work and looking after her family, she’d seen Alex as someone she wished she could be. A golden dream that she’d held on to, wanting to believe that work and responsibility weren’t the only things in life. But now she’d seen a new Alex, challenging and complicated, and she couldn’t help loving him better for it.

The stream of parents and kids had lessened now, and she’d given away almost all her leaflets. She’d catch the two young mums who were dawdling down the road towards her, plastic bags hanging from the arms of their pushchairs, and then she’d call it a day.

‘Hi. May I give you a leaflet, please? About what we’re doing here...’

One of them nodded, taking the leaflet and stuffing it into one of her shopping bags. The other took hers, and started to read it.

‘I was wondering what was happening with this place. I used to go to school here...’

‘Me too.’ Marie grinned. ‘Looks a lot better now.’

‘Tell me about it. It was a real dump when I came here. We transferred over to the new school after a year.’

‘We’re opening next week. You’re welcome to come and have a look around, see how it’s changed.’

‘I don’t know...’ The woman shook her head.

‘You don’t have to sign up for anything. Just look. There’s a café.’ Marie fished in her pocket for one of the printed vouchers. ‘And this is for a free coffee.’

The woman took the voucher, stowing it away in her purse. ‘Okay, thanks. What do you think, Nisha?’

Marie offered a second voucher and Nisha took it. Now that she had a conversation going, Marie decided that she should capitalise on it.

‘I don’t suppose you’d like a few extra leaflets, would you? To give to your friends? We have a range of services.’ Marie pointed to the list on the leaflet. ‘There’s going to be a gym and a swimming pool, and they’ll be open seven days a week. There’s a nominal charge for those, but we’ve tried to keep it affordable.’

‘I used to like swimming. The pool over on Stratton Road closed down, you know.’

Two pairs of eyes suddenly focussed away from her and over her left shoulder. Marie turned and saw Alex, wheeling a barrow full of bricks around the side of the building.

‘That’s the director of the clinic.’

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