International Player(11)

“Great job, Bethany,” Abi said. “I can tell the difference from last time.”

“You can?” Bethany asked.

“Totally. You look stronger. More confident.”

Bethany beamed, and Abi pulled at my arm, leading me further into the room.

It hadn’t just been my physical body that had been put back together here. My entire character had been formed in this place. I’d learnt what I was capable of. I’d developed my determination. My desire to succeed. It had made me the man I’d become.

“Let’s go and check out the kung fu. It’s my favorite at the moment. The shifu—the teacher—is the best. Like powerful or something. Inside.” She pointed her fingers toward her solar plexus. “You know?”

I’d never done kung fu while I was here. The only experiences I’d had involved Bruce Lee. As we moved forward, I watched five children of differing ages moving gracefully, almost slow dancing, as they mirrored their teacher’s movements. It was kinda mesmerizing. Concentration bore into the kids’ expressions, more prominent on some than others as they went through the routine.

Abi leaned into me. “It teaches them strength. And balance. To manage pain—to understand it and harness it. It also shows them the path to acceptance.”

“Acceptance?”

“Yeah. Some of them will never play the sports they did before or have the same movement. And even if they do, life will never go back to normal for these kids. What’s happened to them changes them.”

My throat constricted and I swallowed, trying to push down the squeezing sensation of memories threatening to burst from me.

“Truly really gets it; I just know it works. The kids love it but the shifu does it as a volunteer. They only have one class every two weeks.”

It was as if this corner of the room was completely oblivious to anything else around it. As if hope existed here when it didn’t elsewhere in the room. Perhaps I could pay the shifu to come in more regularly?

Taking a steadying breath, I slowly turned around, taking in the drab room filled with so many uncertain futures.

Kung fu wasn’t going to cut it. My checkbook just wasn’t big enough. And an abseil wasn’t either.

Something more needed to be done.





Six





Truly


“You must really love him,” I said to Abigail as I glanced at the man fiddling with a microphone. The pub wasn’t dingy—the walls were a fresh, pale gray, the chairs and stools were covered in brown leather, and the floor was a polished checkerboard. The place looked more like a hotel lobby than a traditional English pub. But my sister was more oysters and champagne than chips and a Coke. She wasn’t a pub quiz kind of girl.

“Well, I see it as a way of building up credit. I go to this, which he loves, and he cooks, which I love because it means I don’t have to.” We found an empty table by the window and took a seat. “And actually, it’s not bad. They carry Cloudy Bay and have table service.”

I chuckled. “A Hampstead-style pub quiz then.”

“Exactly. Anyway, I dragged you along because you like trivia—and because you’re the cleverest person I know.”

Abigail beckoned over one of the waiters, ordering a bottle of pinot noir and a virgin mojito.

“I hope Rob will drink most of that bottle, because it’ll be a lot too much for me,” I said.

“Yeah. And Noah probably will too.”

My heart sank. “Noah?”

“I told you he was coming, didn’t I?”

She’d barreled into my office at six, insisted I take the evening off, then practically pulled me by the hair out to the car. She’d not even told me where we were going until my seatbelt was on and she’d turned onto the main road.

“It’s not a problem, is it?”

“No. Why would it be?” I’d coped on Sunday. Even seeing him earlier in the week when I’d run into him outside the hospital had been okay. It had been fleeting, and I’d found that thoughts of him had faded faster than they had after lunch. But that was enough. I didn’t want to keep running into him. I knew how vulnerable I was around him, and I didn’t want to wade into the feelings I’d once had for him again. I just wanted Noah to disappear back to New York where all this stuff was three thousand miles away, instead of constantly bobbing to the surface of my brain.

“If I didn’t think Rob would completely lose it, I’d have half a glass of wine myself—they say it’s completely safe, and I could use it. I went over my calendar with Lisa today and the things I have to do before going on maternity leave are really starting to stack up. Just looking at it freaked me out a little.”

It wasn’t like Abigail to get overwhelmed. We both tended to overpromise, but this time Abigail was working with a timetable that had a fixed end date and zero flexibility—the baby couldn’t be rescheduled.

“You okay?” I’d offer to help, but there was nothing I could do and we both knew it. There was no overlap in our jobs. Abigail was the face of the foundation, and I needed her. “I get it, there’s still loads to do. But the main thing is to pace yourself. You have five months before this baby comes.” I hadn’t noticed before, but dark half circles sat below her eyes and tension ghosted across her face. She didn’t normally wear her stress so obviously.