Page 27 of Love at First Sight

I let myself conveniently forget that Ali has noted her objections to Stray Kids, and spend the week ploughing ahead with all sorts of plans whilst Henry is at school – skipping the gym, socialising, sometimes even showering, so that from my makeshift office at Ali’s breakfast bar I can Get Sorted.

I think we’ve even got a location, at a smaller park just off from Clissold Park, so we’re central to Stoke Newington but in an area easier to keep safe for the kids.

‘Seems perfect,’ India says when I show her. ‘And you’re going to show it to the council later today? That’s just a formality though, right?’

‘Health and safety,’ I say. ‘So kind of key? But also yes, a check-box activity I think.’

‘Perfect,’ she replies.

‘I need to figure out some sort of “base” for the park. They’ve said I can utilise a disused hut they’ve got, but it’s going to need a bit of TLC. So maybe Leo can help with that? Since he offered …’

‘Yes!’ India says. ‘Text him! Or better yet, call him. He’s dying to spend more time with you. And I’m dying to see what he looks like out of that butcher’s apron.’

‘Pervert,’ I say.

‘I am not embarrassed,’ she shoots back.

It takes me ages to work up the courage to call Leo – and I’m not sure why.

‘It’s because you wrote him off as a ladies’ man,’ India says, making us both coffee at Ali’s fancy machine. ‘But actually, the more you’re getting to know him, the more you’re seeing he’s quite genuine.’

I roll my eyes. ‘Honestly,’ I say. ‘Your armchair psychology is reaching, I think.’

She hands me an Americano and instructs: ‘Ring him.’

‘Hello, you. To what do I owe this honour?’ Leo says when he picks up.

‘You never ring me, either,’ I say. ‘Let’s not forget this is a two-way street.’

‘Nonsense,’ he replies, and I can hear his smile stretch down the phone. ‘The next move was yours to make. I made India promise me that, remember?’

He’s on speakerphone, India pretending to send out a newsletter blast but quite obviously eavesdropping, from the way she nibbles on the bottom of her lip to stop herself from smiling.

I take a beat to get over feeling flustered. I know that’s how Leo gets his kicks. One must respond with matronly strength, I think, in order to put naughty boys in their place.

‘I’m calling for use of your hands,’ I say, as seriously as I can. ‘For Stray Kids.’

‘Name your time and place. And my hands are all yours.’

‘The small park at the bottom of Clissold Park. We’ll be there later, if you’re about. Come give the job a look over with us? There’s a hut I need transforming into Stray Kids HQ.’

‘I’ll bring my tape measure,’ he says, and I grin, shaking my head before hanging up.

‘I’m obsessed with him,’ India says.

We’re meeting Health and Safety at half past four – Henry is at Thom’s tonight – but India and I have come down to the park early with our laptops and a blanket so we can tether the internet off our phones and keep working.

‘I’m going to pay you, you know, for all this,’ I say, as we finalise an order for high-vis jackets for volunteers to wear when they’re with us, complete with the simple but sublime Stray Kids logo India knocked up herself for the website.

It’s blocky, in-yer-face, and does the job.

A professional designer isn’t in the budget, and I kind of love that she did it.

‘No, you won’t,’ India replies, waving a hand. ‘I won’t accept it. I meant what I said: this is a freebie, and it’s my way of giving back to the community.’

‘Fine. But I’ll pick up the tab at the pub after we open.’

‘Oh,’ she laughs. ‘That I can agree to.’

Leo saunters down the path, hair bristling slightly in the breeze, white vest under an open white linen shirt, with matching linen shorts. He looks like an actual model. I wave, and when he reaches us he pulls a tape measure out of his crossbody bag and says: ‘Where do I start?’

‘I’m going to finish mocking up the outdoor banners,’ India says to me. ‘Is that okay?’

I nod. ‘Thank you,’ I say, and then to Leo: ‘Right this way, sir. I have about fifteen minutes before Hackney Health and Safety are due to show.’

‘Let’s make the fifteen minutes count, then,’ he says, following me.

I show Leo the space where the kids will ‘roam free’, explain the boundaries of the park and take him to the hut.

It’s not big, maybe two metres by three, and doesn’t have any windows.

The wood around the door frame is rotten and there’s a weird smell, but Leo takes one look and says, ‘Well this is going to be perfect with a bit of love, innit?’

‘You think so?’ I ask. ‘We’ll need to store equipment – the odd thing for the kids but also all the banners and signs, stuff like that – and I was hoping for extra warmth, somehow? I can paint it, but the door frame …’

I trail off, because Leo has taken off his shirt and folded it on top of his bag and sunglasses, just off to the side of where we’re stood. He gets out a notebook and pencil and starts muttering to himself.

‘I’ll just take some measurements,’ he says, and I step back and hold out an arm as if to say please, be my guest .

I watch as he measures this and jots down that, obviously seeing potential I don’t. I check the time, so I know to keep a lookout for the Health and Safety woman, and right as my phone is in my hand, Cal rings.

‘Cal, I’m in the middle of a recce for Stray Kids, I can’t really talk right now,’ I say, without the usual hello.

‘Look behind you,’ he says, and I spin around.

He’s stood at the opposite end of the park, hand held up in a wave, grinning.

I hang up and walk over to him, heart beating and palms clammy.

He undoes me. He just does. I ache with the potential of it all – and the sorrow of knowing it will never happen.

‘I’m kind of busy,’ I say. ‘Sorry.’ I keep darting my eyes over to the entrance of the park, so I’m ready to make a good impression on whoever shows up to inspect me.

‘It’s me,’ Cal says. ‘I’m the inspector.’

I scrunch up my face. What a weird thing to say; what a stupid joke to make.

‘No, seriously,’ he says, and that’s when he hands me his badge marked ‘Hackney Council’, with an unflattering headshot and his name printed on.

‘You work for the Health and Safety department?’ I say. He nods. ‘And you didn’t think to tell me that?’

‘Honestly, I’ve found saying you work for the local council can be quite the conversation killer,’ he says. ‘But saying it’s in Health and Safety? Conversation doesn’t even get started. I didn’t deliberately keep it from you. To be fair, you’ve never asked about the specifics of my job …’

‘But all this time you’ve been helping me because you have insider knowledge? Because you work there?’

Cal openly smiles now. ‘I don’t have a conspiracy against you,’ he says, plainly.

‘Yes, I work for the council. No, I never brought up my very dull job with you. No, you never asked the details of my very dull job either. Yes, I know things about funding and grants because, to be honest, sometimes we can’t even give the money away – it was exciting to hear your idea and know that we were the right organisation to help move things along.

What else? Oh. I’ve had nothing to do with Stray Kids, haven’t seen your application, haven’t put in a good word or anything like that.

The words Stray Kids haven’t even passed my lips outside of conversations with you.

I found out you’d got the grant through you , and then today my colleague Jules called in sick and by chance I overheard our boss re-assigning her meetings.

Then, and only then, when I heard you were doing a safety recce for Stray Kids, did I say I’d like to take it, because I knew a bit about it already. Have I covered everything?’

‘Sounds like it,’ I say with a nod, feeling robbed of my chance to be outraged.

Am I really destined to keep crossing paths with this man?

Not only through Ali – who, let’s be clear, he has not broken up with despite saying he was going to – but now also through work?

Just what I need – another complication.

Thing is, I need Cal onside, so I’m going to have to charm him as if he’s a stranger.

‘Well,’ I say, deciding that if Cal is the inspector to impress, it’s better late than never with my smile and can-do attitude.

‘Nice to meet you, Inspector! I’m Jessica Cameron, founder of Stray Kids, and I’m so excited to show you around today and let you know what we’re thinking.

I really welcome your feedback, and hope you don’t mind me tapping you up for the knowledge you’ve no doubt accumulated over the years, ha ha! ’

Cal blinks.

‘That was a pre-planned speech, wasn’t it?’ he says, deadpan.

‘Yes,’ I answer. ‘I’m trying to switch to professional mode now. Any and all help with that appreciated.’

Cal nods, understanding. ‘Got it,’ he says, rearranging his own features before adopting a somewhat more professional voice. ‘Right, Ms Cameron. Congratulations on your grant and all the hard work you’ve done to get here. My name is Calvin Lopez, but please do just call me Your Highness.’

I roll my eyes.

‘At the council we pride ourselves on working with our grant recipients, so why don’t you show me around. I’m just pleased as punch to be here today.’

‘Great,’ I say, keeping up the professional pretence. ‘Right this way.’

I lead Cal over to Stray Kids HQ, where Leo is packing up his bag.

‘Okay Jessie,’ Leo says, as we approach the hut, ‘I’ve got what I need to get cracking.’ He looks at Cal. ‘Oh hey, man. How are you? You helping out too?’

‘He’s from the council,’ I say, noting the strange look on Cal’s face as he shakes Leo’s hand. He almost looks … jealous? ‘Leo’s going to help make Stray Kids HQ,’ I explain to him.

Cal nods. ‘What’s in it for you?’ he says, with a chuckle.

Leo frowns. ‘My nephew. He’ll love this. Plus, you know. Just trying to be nice.’

‘Nice guys finish last,’ Cal says, again like it’s a joke. To my ear though, it sounds like a warning.