“I’m sure you did your best. You can’t blame yourself—”
“Callie, Iamto blame. I didn’t even carry out a simple blood test. I was unfocused, not paying attention. And that dog suffered because of me.”
“Joel,” I say, reaching out to take his hand again, “please don’t beat yourself up. Mistakes can happen to anyone.”
He stares at me. His eyes are round as portholes. “You don’t understand.”
“I don’t have to be a vet to know that if you—”
“Greg committed suicide a couple of weeks later,” he says abruptly. “The dog was his lifeline, and I took it away from him, out of sheer bloody incompetence.”
The shock shuts me up. For a few moments I go mute, the bathwater cooling around me.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I’m responsible for Greg’s death,” he says, his voice reedy and unrecognizable. “It’s that simple.”
I’m beginning to shiver. “No. It’s not that simple.”
“You wanted to know why I say I’m not a proper vet. That’s why—because I don’t deserve to call myself one.” He lowers his gaze to meet mine. “And if you want to know why I have to tell you what I dreamed, it’s because I can’t live the rest of my life knowing I could have done more. Not with you, Callie.I can’t do that when it comes to you.”
“Please don’t,” I say, feeling my throat thicken. “That’s not fair.”
“I’m not sure I care about what’s fair anymore. I care about what’s right.”
He gets to his feet then, turns his back on me and leaves.
I stay in the bath for maybe a half hour more, tears hot against my skin as the water goes cold.
68.
Joel
On Halloween morning I call Warren while I’m out with the dogs.
It’s hard to believe it’s been a whole year since sparks were flying between me and Callie at the corner shop. We’ve gained so much in that year. But have we lost everything too?
I hope every morning when I open my eyes for a way forward, an epiphany. That zero visibility will somehow have become sunlight. But it never has.
“So I did what you said,” I tell him.
“What did I say?”
“I... Where are you? Why can I hear screaming?”
“The beach. I don’t know—something about sand and water makes kids scream.”
“What? It’s October.”
“Last weekend of half term.” I picture him shrugging. Big shrugger, I reckon, my biological dad.
“Are you supposed to be there in a supervisory capacity, or...?”
“I’m teaching in ten minutes. What’s up?”
“I went to see Callie’s dad. To find out if there’s any family history I should be worried about.”
“Good on you. Anything?”
