CHAPTER 28

Ronan grabbed her hand and set off down the street. Lily had to jog to keep up with him.

They turned a corner and were just in time to see a red double-decker bus pull up at the stop across the road.

‘Quick,’ cried Ronan and sprinted for the bus. They clambered aboard, climbed the stairs and collapsed into a seat at the front.

It was Lily’s first time on a London bus – she’d always taken black cabs before. She looked about eagerly. Night had fallen but the city was well lit and she could see several interesting buildings and the occasional gated garden as they trundled down the road.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked Ronan.

‘Shoreditch.’

‘You mean, Shoreditch as in “Oranges and Lemons” Shoreditch?’

‘When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch,’ he recited, nodding. ‘The very same.’

‘Why there?’ asked Lily as the bus turned into Clerkenwell Road.

‘Lots of reasons,’ he replied. ‘Brick Lane Market, restaurants, bars, art galleries, Cargo, Catch, Medicine Bar – they’re why most people go to Shoreditch.’

‘Are those last three nightclubs?’ asked Lily, staring at him uncertainly. ‘Because you know I’ll never get in.’

Ronan’s eyebrows slanted together and the golden flecks in his eyes sparkled. ‘If you want to get in, I can get you in – but first there’s something I want to show you.’

‘What?’

‘It’s a surprise,’ said Ronan, putting his arm around her.

They sat in companionable silence as the bus progressed on its stop-start journey to Shoreditch. It wasn’t long before Ronan got up and rang the bell. ‘This is where we get off,’ he said, swinging down onto the footpath.

The evening was mild and there were people everywhere. Ronan took Lily’s hand and led her through the throng. He moved quickly and easily, and he kept her close as they wended their way through the brightly lit market.

Beyond the market there were more shops selling everything from art to antiques, fashion, jewellery and handcrafts. It was crowded and noisy, but Lily liked the feeling of being out among the people, seeing a part of London she would never have explored on her own.

She wondered where Ronan was taking her. Perhaps to the gallery where Max had seen some of his art – only hadn’t Max said it wasn’t in a gallery? She vaguely remembered something about a private collection.

She was about to ask Ronan about it when he turned abruptly down a side street lined with tall red-brick houses. Most of them were three storeys, with windows right on the street. There were no trees or gardens, just pavement and, halfway down the street, a dark, narrow laneway lined with rubbish bins. Ronan looked around and then quickly pushed Lily into the lane ahead of him.

Her heart suddenly beat a little faster. There were no streetlights and Ronan stood behind her, his body completely blocking the narrow opening to the street.

‘What are you –’

‘Keep going,’ he hissed and, putting his hands on her waist, steered her down the alley.

‘There’s nowhere to go,’ said Lily nervously as she came to a high brick wall and realised it was a dead-end. Ronan stood squarely behind her, completely blocking her escape.

‘That depends on your point of view,’ he replied, reaching into his jacket. ‘I promised you a night of firsts and this is where we begin.’

Lily’s pulse raced and, in the three seconds his hand was out of sight, her imagination ran wild. Was he going for a gun? Or a rope? Or some kind of drug? What did he mean –

She almost screamed as he pulled his hand free and pointed a metal cylinder at her.

‘Move,’ he said, and flicked the switch.

Lily was glad she was well behind the torchlight so Ronan couldn’t see her cheeks burn with embarrassment as he pointed the torch’s ultra-bright beam at the wall beside them.

‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘I guess,’ said Lily, her heart still tripping faster than usual.

He swung the torch beam ninety degrees, pointed it at the bottom of the high brick wall, then slowly raised the beam.

Lily stared in wonder.

Before her was an enormous painted ‘hole’ in the bricks, and through the hole was a green field, full of flowers, basking in the sunshine. Among the flowers, weathered tombstones rose from the long grass like ancient sentinels and beyond them a great tree raised its branches skywards, reaching for the sun.

Even in the torchlight there was something extraordinarily tranquil and inviting about it and Lily felt a sudden longing to step through the wall into the space beyond; she wanted to wander among the tombstones reading the names of the dead, and lie under the tree and watch the flowers nodding in the sun.

‘What do you think?’ asked Ronan after a minute.

‘I love it,’ whispered Lily. She stretched out her hand and touched the rough brick wall. ‘It’s hard to believe it’s a painting.’

‘Graffiti, really.’

‘Not like the graffiti we get in New York,’ she replied. ‘I mean, there was the 5-Pointz building, before it was painted over, but even that was mostly tags – although some of them were pretty creative.’

‘I don’t do tags anymore,’ said Ronan, ‘not since I was a kid. I find this a lot more satisfying.’

‘This is yours?’ exclaimed Lily. She stared at the painting again. ‘Oh, my.’

‘There were a few of mine around here, though the council have painted over most of them.’

‘Wow, that’s sad,’ said Lily. ‘Were they like this?’

He shrugged. ‘A couple. Some of them were pretty crude – mostly early stuff. I did a bunch along the train tracks near Liverpool Street station, before –’ He paused and then said, ‘Before we moved.’

‘So you grew up around here?’ asked Lily as they exited the laneway.

‘For a while. We moved round a lot. These days my mother lives on the council estate in Becontree.’

‘Where’s that?’

‘About twelve miles east of here.’

‘Do you see her much?’ asked Lily, unsure about whether Ronan’s family was a safe topic for discussion.

‘Whenever I can, but she likes me to stay in school.’

‘Don’t most parents?’ sighed Lily. ‘I bet she’s really proud of you being at Pendragon, though.’

‘Yeah.’ Ronan nodded. ‘Yeah, I guess she is.’

‘Do you have any other family?’ asked Lily carefully.

‘No. There’s only me and Mam. My dad left when I was fourteen.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Lily. ‘That must have been hard.’

‘Yeah,’ said Ronan. ‘It was.’ He spoke with a finality that seemed to put a giant stop sign in the way of any further conversation about his family.

‘I’ve always found there are lots of advantages to being an only child,’ said Lily after a pause.

‘Except you have a sister,’ said Ronan, wrinkling his forehead. ‘Angel’s your half-sister, right?’

Lily blinked. ‘Yes. That’s right. She is.’ She kicked a pebble onto the road. ‘I always wanted Angel to be my sister,’ said Lily. ‘Practically from the first moment we met. We were best friends for ten years . . .’ Her voice trailed away.

‘And?’ prompted Ronan after a long silence.

‘I don’t know,’ said Lily. ‘I love Angel, but I never expected to have to sacrifice my dreams for hers!’ She put her hands to her face. ‘I hate not being able to talk to her and I don’t want to be angry with my dad, but I have no idea how to change it.’

‘I know something that might help,’ said Ronan.

‘What?’ asked Lily.

‘Soup.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I thought we could go round to the Soup Kitchen. I often swing by on a Friday night.’

‘Oh, okay, sure,’ she said doubtfully. ‘I guess a bowl of soup might make me feel better. Is it near here?’

‘Not far,’ he replied. ‘Practically around the corner.’

He took her hand and together they walked through the darkened streets. It was only when she saw the caravan that had been set up outside a local church that Lily understood.

‘Oh, a soup kitchen!’ she exclaimed. ‘I thought you meant . . .’ She broke off as Ronan ran forward to help a man trying to heft an enormous pot in through the caravan’s back door.

‘I’ll take that, Padre,’ he said, grabbing the pot by the handles.

‘Ronan!’ The priest relinquished his load and mopped his forehead with a large red handkerchief. ‘Good to see you. I wasn’t sure you could make it.’

‘I said I’d be here, Padre. Besides, I knew you’d tell Mam if I didn’t show.’

The priest laughed. ‘I don’t think I’d risk telling Alondra that, Ronan. Besides, I doubt she’d believe me.’

Ronan grinned. ‘Well, you can tell her I was here as usual and that I brought a friend along to help.’ He waved Lily forward. ‘This is Lily. Lily, this is Father Doyle who runs the homeless shelter.’

‘Hello,’ said Lily, shaking his hand shyly.

‘Welcome to St Mary’s, Lily,’ said the priest. ‘It’s very good of you to give up your evening to help us.’

‘It was Ronan’s idea,’ she said. She looked a little worried. ‘But I should warn you that I’m totally new at this and basically clueless.’

He smiled and patted her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Ronan will look after you. He knows the routine inside out. You just go on into the van and he’ll get you started. People will begin arriving any minute and I’ve still got a few more blankets to find.’

He waved her towards the caravan just as Ronan came to the door, a soup ladle in his hand. ‘Ready, Lily?’ he asked. ‘We’d better get organised.’

‘Okay,’ she said.

He hesitated, and then said, ‘Uh, Padre?’

‘Yes, Ronan?’

‘About Mam.’

‘Yes, Ronan,’ replied the priest, and Lily saw his eyes twinkle.

‘Maybe better not to mention Lily just yet?’

‘No, Ronan,’ said Father Doyle, winking at Lily as she climbed into the van.

Inside, Ronan was just opening the serving hatch. ‘Great,’ he said briskly, as Lily came in. ‘Do you want to ladle the soup into the cups? I’ll hand them out with the bread rolls.’

‘Sure,’ said Lily. ‘Do we need to put butter or anything on the rolls?’

‘There isn’t anything,’ said Ronan. ‘Bread and soup, a blanket, maybe some medication and a bit of friendly counsel is about the best we can do.’

Lily was still absorbing this new and unexpected side of Ronan when he handed her the ladle.

‘Serve the soup?’ he asked, smiling at her.

‘Absolutely,’ replied Lily, grinning back.

‘Are they all drug addicts?’ she asked, about two hours later. The line had finally petered out, along with the fourth pot of soup and the twentieth bag of bread rolls.

‘Not all,’ said Ronan, washing the soup pot industriously. ‘But a fair number. Drug, alcohol and gambling addictions are the main problems that we see around here, though there’s some mental illness, too, and a few people who’ve just lost their way.’

‘Can they be helped?’

‘Some. Father Doyle does his best and he’s had a few successes, but usually people’s problems are way too complex to be solved by a cup of soup and some roadside counselling.’

She nodded. ‘This is going to sound really clichéd but, until tonight, I honestly didn’t know how lucky I was.’

Ronan took off his apron, closed the serving hatch and pulled her into his arms. ‘So, another first, then?’

‘I can’t believe I ever felt sorry for myself,’ said Lily, looking up at him.

He kissed her gently and said, ‘It’s good to get some perspective. But knowing there are other people out there who are worse off than you doesn’t necessarily mean that your own worries and problems aren’t real.’

‘I guess so, but it does make them seem a lot less important.’

‘That’s no bad thing,’ said Ronan. ‘Especially if it means no more complaining,’ he joked.

She punched him lightly on the chest. ‘So, are you telling me that you never complain about anything?’

He assumed a pious expression. ‘Me? Complain? Never. I’m a saint – ask Father Doyle.’

‘Ask me what?’ asked Father Doyle, coming into the van.

‘Ronan says he’s a saint,’ replied Lily, freeing herself from Ronan’s embrace and digging him in the ribs.

‘I don’t think even Alondra would agree with that,’ said Father Doyle, smiling. ‘Though your mam would be pleased with your efforts tonight and I thank you both for your hard work.’

‘We’ll be going now, Padre,’ said Ronan, edging towards the door.

‘Well, give my best to your mother,’ said the priest. ‘And you can tell her from me that your young lady has my tick of approval.’

To Lily’s surprise and immense satisfaction, Ronan blushed.