Honestly? I hadn’t a clue, but I knew I wanted to help people. Make someone else’s life better for them. I knew not everyone had the upbringing and privileges that I’d had, and I never took that for granted, but I wanted to use my skills and education to help others. I didn’t want to rub my wealth in their face. Just do what I could to make things better.
I told Jackson as much and he tapped his hands on his thighs, appearing perplexed, toying with something internally. The devil was probably cooking up some hellish, sadistic plan.
“Okay, I have an idea.”
He stood up and walked over to the front door where he’d left his briefcase. He pulled out a manila folder, and when he came back over to the sofa area, he threw it down on the coffee table in front of me.
“You know I’m involved in a charity for the homeless, don’t you?”
“You might’ve mentioned something about it the other night at the gala,” I replied nonchalantly.
I also remembered that Cillian had told me not to mention it to him. It was a ‘touchy subject’, apparently. Obviously not tonight though.
“You also know I’m not the best at… communicating, selling myself or what I hope to achieve with all this.” He gestured for me to take the folder, so I did. “I think you’d be better placed to do some fundraising, get people on board with it,” he said expectantly.
I flicked through a few of the papers, but I couldn’t make heads nor tails out of what he was trying to tell me.
“What is it you want to achieve with this charity?” I asked.
“I want a place for people to go; the homeless mainly, but I also want to focus on dealing with mental health too. There’s not a lot of dignity in being homeless, but I want to create a space to give people a fighting chance at life. Give them the respect and dignity they deserve. A place to call their own, a safe haven, if you like. Do you know what the suicide rate for men in this country is at the moment?” he asked.
Wow, he was really into this, I’d never seen him so animated before.
“I know it’s way too high,” I ventured, embarrassed that I didn’t know more about it.
“Exactly. Every week, eighty-four men take their own life in the U.K. That’s three times higher than the female suicide rates. I want to do my part to help bring that number down.”
He walked over to the windows and moved the drapes back to look out over the city, with its sparkly lights, showing the buzz of life happening down below.
“A port in the storm of life. Somewhere with no judgement, only solace.”
He turned back to look at me and I felt pained at the expression of sorrow on his beautiful face. This charity really was close to his heart; a personal crusade.
“I want to offer help,” he continued. “Financial, educational, counselling. Whatever they need to get a foothold back onto life’s ladder. All anyone ever wants is the dignity to live the best life they can, without the weight of life drowning them. That’s where my charity and the refuge would come in. I’m not that clued up on mental health, but if I can bring together groups of people that are, then maybe it can make a difference.”
I looked down again at the papers. There were articles about mental health, statistics, lists of counsellors, print outs of similar facilities from the U.S and other countries around the world. He had a vision, but he couldn’t bring it all together. I felt a surge of adrenaline at the thought that maybe I could help bring this mish-mash of ideas of his to fruition. I could get this off the ground. I knew people, wealthy people, who’d invest in a heartbeat. For the first time in months I felt something other than lost or lonely. I felt excited.
“I could do some fundraising for you. I know loads of people who could help. I can look into therapies and other opportunities we could offer.”
He frowned. “We?”
“I mean me, I could do that for you.” I felt embarrassed at my enthusiasm.
“I’m surprised you’d want to help.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
He came back to the sofa and pulled his mobile out of his trouser pocket before he sat back down.
“Ryley, I’ll give you free rein over the whole project if it’ll keep you from climbing the walls here. I’ll get one of my guys to take you to the property we’re currently renovating to use for the main facility. That should help to give you an insight into our whole ethos.”
“I think you’ve done a good enough job yourself at explaining it all, but thanks. I’d really appreciate that chance.” I sat back into the sofa, feeling blown away by the turn of events tonight. “Wow. I’m actually really excited. I’ll bring in so much investment you’ll be drowning in support by the end of my three months.”
Jackson’s smile faded, and he started to mess with his phone. Was he irritated now? I couldn’t keep up with his mood swings.
“You want to visit him, don’t you?” He looked up at me as he was typing something out on his mobile.
“Yes. I miss him.” I sighed out loud, maybe a bit too loud, because Jackson looked up from his phone with a scowl.