Page 81

‘I, er, went to Manchester to see him,’ he admitted after clearing his throat, wiping his eyes. ‘I told him I couldn’t have anything to do with him anymore. I should never have gone to him for help. I should have distanced myself a long time ago. I guess some habits are just hard to break.’

‘Well, it’s never easy with parents. How did he take it?’

A shrug. ‘The way he takes everything. Without much empathy or care. I’d rather lose him than end up like him, though. I wonder how many friends I’ll have in a few years’ time, when he’s smeared my name through the dirt.’

‘They wouldn’t be friends worth having.’ Juniper couldn’t help but run her fingers through his hair. ‘How did you even get him to agree to help, if he hates ceramics so much?’

Aiden lowered his eyes. ‘Doesn’t matter now.’

Juniper held her breath. If Aiden had been the one to pay for this unsolicited favour… ‘Aiden.’

He rubbed his face roughly. ‘He wanted me to work with him next summer.’

‘And you were going to?’ she sputtered.

A shrug. ‘If it meant getting to keep you here, yeah.’

She didn’t know what to say anymore. It was her who wasn’t enough, not against him. Not when he’d nearly sacrificed his own wellbeing for her. It was difficult not to sound angry when she demanded, ‘Don’t ever do that again. Don’t ever put yourself in a position where you have to suffer for someone else. Not for me, not for anyone.’

He tilted his head. ‘What if I said you’re worth it?’

‘Nothingis worth that. Not after what you went through at Elmington.Promiseme.’

He didn’t, instead looking at her the way he had a few nights ago, when he’d almost told her that he loved her the first time. That wobbly smile was too intimate, too raw, and she wasn’t sure she deserved it.

Luckily, annoyingly, he changed the subject. ‘So. Let’s fix this. You ready?’

‘No,’ she admitted. ‘How, exactly, are we going to do it?’

‘There are a few methods.’ Aiden blinked away his tears and stood, heading towards the drawers of materials along the side wall. His silhouette was the same as it had been that first time they’d thrown together, tall and broad agains t the night outside the window. Only now, she could pinpoint all the things that made him him: the defiant curl, always sticking up on the crown of his head; the way one shoulder was always slightly higher than the other; the subtle arch of his spine from a life spent hunched over his paintings and pottery wheels. She’d been right. Hewashers, because she saw him, because she knew him – sometimes better than she knew her own body, her own mind. ‘It’s called kintsugi. Think it translates to golden joinery. But it doesn’t have to be gold. We can use whatever we can find.’

She tried to imagine how it would look, but it was difficult to see beyond all the broken parts. One thing was for sure: it wouldn’t be boring if she could pull it off. ‘Well, I do happen to know a place where there are a lot of broken ceramics.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Caffé Verde. Haven’t you heard? I was recently promoted to the role of chief pot dropper.’

He laughed, and all she could think was how she wanted to hear it again and again and again. To know that she’d been the one to cause it felt like being granted a second chance.

‘Well, I’m up for a little adventure if you are.’

‘Since I happen to have closed up tonight’ – she produced her golden key from the zip pocket of her bag – ‘I don’t see why not.’

It wasn’t as though she had anything else to lose, except for him, and she was beginning to think that, this time, she might do anything it took to keep him.

‘Nope!’ Juniper told the security alarm when it tried to blare out at her. She dashed inside quickly to shut it off, inputting the numbers in the wrong sequence a few times until she remembered the combination.

It was the first time London had felt peaceful to her, and she wasn’t sure if it had more to do with the ebbing evening or the fact that she had finally surrendered to her fears and insecurities. Either way, the floating dust motes and sepia shadows of Caffé Verde covered her like a blanket.

‘Wow. It turns out I quite like it here without Gianna and the customers.’ She examined a potted fern. ‘Was that always there?’

‘Yes,’ Aiden answered, and then he was close again, passing headlights dancing across his face. Somehow, they always did seem to end up alone in the dark. She tried to keep her focus on the task at hand: broken pots. She hadn’t been exaggerating about her clumsiness earlier,and only hoped the bins hadn’t been taken out before she could salvage some of the pieces.

Thankfully, as she hopped without much grace over the counter and into the kitchen, she found the remnants of her earlier shift shining in against the bin liner. Aiden flicked on his phone torch, then his face crinkled. ‘Are you really going to put your hands in that?’

Itwasa bit minging. The coffee beans and teabags went into the bin for compostables, as well as the food, but somebody had clearly forgotten and dropped in a slice of tomato. Not her. That she could remember. Cake wrappers and old rags cushioned the ceramics, too.

‘This is a job for my Marigolds.’ Juniper retrieved her trusty rubber gloves from the sink, now familiar enough that they slid right on, since Gianna often delegated her to washing up duty on account of her sour moods. Still, she could practically feel the cold, slimy tomato even through the yellow layers and hesitated. ‘Or you could do it. You know, since you love me.’