“Then no.”
“A head injury? Any knock to the head at all that you can remember?”
“No. Nothing. Why?”
“My knowledge is a little rusty, but I’m wondering if it might be something to do with your temporal and frontal lobes. Your right hemisphere, possibly.” He waves the pen around his forehead, like that will help me understand.
And I do, broadly, thanks to my veterinary neuroscience lectures at uni. But I’ve never been able to build a bridge between my medical knowledge and the dreams. It’s what I’d been hoping Steve could do.
Steve lowers the pen. “Look, Joel, I haven’t studied this stuff for nearly twenty years. I could throw some titbits at you, but really I’d be guessing. I do still have a few contacts, though. I’m wondering if Diana Johansen might be able to help.”
“Who’s she?”
“A leading neuroscientist now. I studied with her. I’m sure I could get her to see you. She heads up a university research team, has contacts everywhere.”
“You think she could investigate?”
“Maybe. I don’t know how it all works, these days. For anything official she’d have to apply for funding. There’d need to be ethical approvals, and you might have to undergo some detailed medical exams.”
“You mean,” I say heavily, “there’s no quick solution.”
“You didn’t really think there’d be a pill for this, did you?” His voice softens, like he’s comforting a teething baby.
It drops through my chest then: the hopelessness, heavy as a falling barbell. “I guess not.”
“Look, I’ll do what I can, I promise.” Steve meets my eyes. “And... thank you, Joel. For trusting me.”
I nod acknowledgment, and a few seconds pass.
Steve rubs his chin. “I have to say, I’m kind of relieved.”
“Relieved?”
“Well, this explains a lot. Is this why you pushed Vicky away?”
“Probably.”
“What about Callie?”
I blink, rapid-fire. “What?”
“She’s the real reason you’re here, isn’t she?”
“Why would you say that?”
“I called her last week—just to check in, see if there was anything she wanted. I asked how you were getting on, and...” He grins. “Let’s just say I couldn’t shut her up.”
I know hearing this should make me happy. But all that was before last night, of course. Before the sweetness of our kiss turned quickly sour.
We still haven’t spoken. I left the flat about an hour after Melissa this morning, but there was no sign of Callie.
“Have you told her any of this?”
“No.”
“So who else knows?”
“Just you. And that doctor from years ago.”
