things are progressing. I know they are here because Judy has already posted about twenty pictures of herself on Facebook: her face poking out from behind a great big candy floss, her face open with a roar of laughter as she rode the Ferris. I checked at the Ferris wheel but I couldn’t see them; they’d already moved on by the time I got there. I decide to make another circuit of the party in the hope of catching them, but my progress is almost immediately interrupted as I am stopped by some old work colleagues of Jake’s. Not from his last job, but the one before that. I smile and nod along with their conversation, although not a lot is being said. Mostly it’s a repetition of the mantras, ‘Who would have thought it?’ ‘What are the odds?’
When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I’m grateful for the excuse to cut it short. ‘I’m so sorry, I have to take this.’ I throw out an apologetic grimace and duck away from them.
‘Lexi?’
‘Toma?’
‘You recognised my voice!’ He sounds happy and noting as much reminds me that it’s not an emotion I usually associate with him. I think of him as sincere, troubled, determined, angry, thoughtful. A complex kaleidoscope of sentiment that is tight and knotted.
‘Your name came up on my phone,’ I reply, matching the smile in his voice.
‘You have me programmed in your phone!’ He’s buoyant. Almost playful.
‘Everyone has everyone programmed in their phone nowadays, Toma.’
‘Where are you? You sound like you are at a party.’
‘I am, actually. My own.’
‘You are throwing a party, without me? How is that possible?’
I laugh. ‘Have you been drinking, Toma?’
‘Some.’ If I was having this conversation with anyone else, I would go so far as to call his tone flirtatious. I suppose that’s what happens when you gift a man three million pounds. I mean how is he supposed to read that signal?
‘Why are you calling? Is everything OK?’
‘You should not always think everything is a problem with me,’ he says, his tone changing abruptly, sobering.
‘It’s not that. I don’t.’ I falter because I do. I met the man when he was sleeping in the street outside my office. It’s hard to disassociate him from a feeling of concern.
He quickly dissolves the awkwardness. ‘Well, I am calling for a stupid reason now. You make me feel stupid because you haven’t asked me to your party and I am calling to ask you to mine.’ There’s no real irritation or anger in his voice, just amusement. It warms me. It makes no sense, but my stomach hiccups a fraction, a small glimmer of excitement at the idea that Toma is having a party. That he is inviting me. ‘My going away party.’ And then my stomach plummets.
‘You’re leaving the UK?’
‘Yes, because of you.’
‘What did I do wrong?’ I joke but it’s forced. When I gave him the money, I hoped it would help him move on, that’s what I wanted to enable, that’s what I suggested, but now it has come to it, I feel a faint breath of loss.
Toma laughs. ‘You are the most right person I have ever met, Lexi.’ His words slice through me. It’s obviously a translation thing that makes his compliment seem so moving. The words seem real and raw, although I know they are not. I am not a right person. Jake doesn’t even know about the money I gave to Toma yet. ‘I have no idea why you decided to give me that money.’ He pauses, waiting for me to explain, no doubt. I’d like to one day, but I can’t right now, so I stay silent. He doesn’t push me. Then I hear him breathe out, deeply. ‘OK, so whatever the reason, it is a miracle. At first, I think it is a joke but then the money arrives in my account. I do not spend it. In case you change your mind. Have you?’
‘No, I haven’t changed my mind.’ My voice comes out in a whisper, I grip my phone. Sweat prickles under my arms.
‘OK, then it is a miracle. I am going home, Lexi, you gifted me that.’
‘What will you do?’
‘Something good. Something that will honour Reveka and Benke. I plan a – how do you say it? – a sponsorship of education. I’ll give another child the life I would have given Benke. What am I saying? With that much money I will give many, many children a good life.’ I gasp. The