Dolly’s threadbare eyebrows pulled down as she tried to think.
‘How about your legs and ankles? Hips? Is your back okay?’ Jaxx slowly talked her through it as I continued mopping, transfixed.
‘Well, no worse than usual.’ Dolly managed a tiny smile.
‘What about your head, then? Are you feeling sick at all, or dizzy?’
She managed a full smile, then. ‘Not any more.’
‘Vision okay?’
‘No. But that went to pot in 1979. I’d be very grateful if you could find my glasses.’
‘Here.’ Grinning, Jaxx took them from where they’d been dangling off one ear and repositioned them on her nose.
‘Oh, that’s much better. I think I might be ready to get up now.’
Fifteen minutes later and we were all cleaned up, anOut of Ordersign had been stuck to the coffee machine, Irene had decided her hand was fine and Dolly had checked out a stack of gruesome detective stories and insisted she could walk herself home.
‘That was very impressive,’ I said to Jaxx, who had resumed his slouch.
‘Nah. Everyone knows you need to stick a burn in water.’
‘Well, yes. But not everyone can react that quickly and clearly. And I’ve never seen anyone handle Irene so well. She accused you of trying to mug Dolly.’
He twitched one shoulder in a vague shrug.
‘Jaxx, have you ever considered a career helping people? Like, a healthcare assistant on a ward, or working in a care home?’
He pulled a face. ‘Why would I wanna do that when I’ve got a genius business to run?’
‘How about a paramedic?’
He sat back, crossing his arms. ‘I ain’t got time for that. Don’t you need all sorts of qualifications?’
Before I could suggest we took some time in the next session finding out, Irene had strutted over, Jaxx’s hoodie now replaced with a zipped-up cagoule.
‘I shall wash your jacket and return it next week.’
‘No need, you only wore it for a few minutes. My mum’ll sort it.’
Irene bristled. ‘Why would a grown man let his mother do his laundry? Do you enjoy being treated like a child?’
Jaxx pulled his head back in surprise. ‘Well, no, but…’
‘And another thing. You are clearly not a total deadbeat, despite trying to appear otherwise. If you want to be taken seriously, you need to start dressing in a way that demands respect. No one – and I mean no one – not even the type of young woman whose opinion you might care about, and believe it or not I was once young enough to know – wants to see your nipples.’
I choked back a burst of laughter. Underneath his hoodie, Jaxx had been wearing one of those basketball jerseys with no sleeves that was, to my unfashionable eyes, at least three sizes too big. The neckline hung below his breastbone instead of anywhere close to his neck, and every time he moved the whole thing gaped, revealing a pale, skinny chest.
Jaxx crossed his arms, pinning the top in place.
‘Don’t blow this,’ Irene snapped, nodding at the workbook in front of him. She then spun on her sensible shoes and clomped away.
Jaxx and I agreed to meet again, same time and place, nipples thoroughly covered up.
12
On Friday afternoon, I had more back-to-back sessions with Yasmin and Trev. Trev arrived five minutes early, nervously shuffling up to where Yasmin was hunched over her book.
