‘That’s great, thank you,’ said Charlie. He turned to Regan. ‘He needs rest, and so do we. He’s in the best place.’
Regan nodded and a giant yawn escaped. He was right. She wasn’t sure she would be able to sleep but she felt she should at least try. She got to her feet. ‘Thank you,’ she said to the vet. ‘When can we come back?’
‘Call me in the morning, after surgery.’
‘More surgery?’ Regan looked pleadingly at Charlie, although she wasn’t sure what she was expecting him to do. He reached out and gripped her hand.
The vet shook his head. ‘Sorry, I mean morning surgery, not operating surgery.’ He handed her a card. ‘After twelve I’ll be able to give you an update.’
A small thread of relief ran through her until she remembered that this didn’t change anything for poor Kevin. But it was still a tiny dot of hope on an otherwise bleak canvas.
Charlie had set Regan up with a sleeping bag on his sofa, but she hadn’t been able to sleep. At five she scribbled a note, folded up the sleeping bag and slipped out of the house. It was a crisp but bright May morning outside, and it somehow shocked Regan. She wasn’t entirely sure what she’d been expecting – dark, sombre clouds? Crows on every lamp post, perhaps? She wandered down to King’s Parade where a few cars were already zooming up and down. No, they weren’t zooming; it just felt like they were. She found herself scanning each one for any sign that they might have been the driver who committed the hit and run, but she had no idea what she was looking for.
By the time she’d walked to the marina and back, things were starting to open up. The odd café here and there. Deliveries piling in to the seafront hotels. More cars, and now more people striding purposefully along. ‘Oi!’ shouted a cyclist as she veered into the pavement’s cycle lane.
‘Sorry,’ she called, but he rode on, shaking his head. She hoped that was the worst thing that happened to him today. A few seagulls were on the railings hollering their morning demands, and the tide was on the turn. It was all a stark reminder that life really did carry on, and it highlighted to her how insignificant everything – and everyone – truly was.
She wasn’t sure how far she walked, but a few hours later she found herself sitting under the pier. If she closed her eyes she could imagine the night she’d sat there with Charlie, Kevin and Elvis. The sounds today came from the pier’s funfair – some distant music interspersed with squeals of delight from children. It should have been a joyful sound but it wasn’t. She wanted to go up there and tell them what had happened last night. How one person’s careless actions had changed lives forever. But theywouldn’t care. And that was what hurt the most. There was nobody to care about Kevin. No-one would be grieving for him, except her and Elvis. The world didn’t care about people like Kevin.
She realised now that Charlie was right. She couldn’t enter into a relationship with him only to have him snatched from her. She knew, like he did, that any relationship they embarked on was going to be something special, and that would make parting all the more painful. She had to let him go, and the sooner she did that the easier it would be. She got up and walked some more. Hours passed, but her thoughts remained the same. Swirling over and over.
Regan was feeling a little chilly as she stared out towards the horizon. The sun was sinking into the sea, streaking colour across a sky as grey as the pebbles. The vibrant colours reflected in the darkening water, its surface pock-marked by the rain. The skeleton of the West Pier drew her attention away from the damp stones beneath her. The blackened metal frame was all that remained of the once-famous landmark. There was something about it that had always drawn Regan to it – perhaps its defiance at never completely giving in to the weather, the fires or the sea. After everything that had been thrown at it, it was still there. Not exactly as it had once been, but still there all the same.
‘There she is!’ She vaguely recognised the voice that travelled from far up the beach. ‘Regan!’ She heard the distant shout but didn’t turn. She wasn’t sure she could turn – every sinew was stiff. Her clothes were stuck to her. She hadn’t moved for a while. The grinding sound of someone running across the stones grew louder until it was almost on top of her, jolting her back to reality.
‘Reg?’ Charlie dropped to his knees next to her making her turn to look at him. He looked so afraid. He reached forward and touched her cheek, wiping away the rain, and tears she wasn’t aware were there. ‘Are you okay?’
Regan swallowed. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. Seeing him this close, she wanted to settle in his arms and never move. ‘Why do you think they didn’t stop?’ she asked. ‘The driver. Why didn’t they stop?’
Charlie blinked as if this was the last thing he’d been expecting her to say. ‘Fear of prosecution, maybe. Drink driver. Who knows? We need to get you dried and in the warm.’
‘I’m fine.’ She turned back to look at the seagulls wheeling over the West Pier. Having him this close wasn’t helping. She loved him, and it was the most painful thing in the world.
‘I don’t think you are,’ he said, kindly. ‘We’ve been looking for you all day. It’s gone nine o’clock.’
‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ said an out-of-breath Penny as she crunched alongside them. ‘I’ve been worried stupid.’
Regan looked up and the sight of Penny’s red face made her want to smile, although she couldn’t. ‘I’m fine.’
‘No, you’re not,’ said Penny. ‘You’re soaked and I bet you’ve not eaten anything. Come on. You’re coming back to mine.’ Regan was about to protest. ‘I don’t want to hear any excuses. You’ve had a nasty shock and I’m taking care of you whether you like it or not. Sue me.’
Charlie reached out a hand to help Regan up and she pushed it away. The hurt in his eyes pained her, but she knew they were both vulnerable right now. He stood up and pushed his hands deep into his pockets. ‘I rang the vet,’ he said.
Regan hauled her stiff limbs upright. ‘How’s Elvis?’ She felt awful that she’d forgotten to call. She’d been so caught up in everything else it had slipped her mind completely.
‘He’s off the drip and demanding food. The vet says the early signs are good.’
Regan choked back a sob. What a daft thing to cry about after all that had happened – but it was such a relief. She wasn’t sure she could cope with losing anyone else. Regan moved to walk on the other side of Penny and distance herself from Charlie. And that was what she was going to have to keep doing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Penny lived in a small, modern estate house, but Regan hadn’t noticed much in the way of detail. After forcing her to have a warm brandy, Penny had tucked her up in a cosy bed and threatened her with all sorts of torture if she was to sneak out.
What with the trauma of the previous night, and a day spent wandering the seafront, she had at last been ready for sleep.
When she drifted back to consciousness, she could hear mumbled voices outside the room. She stretched her stiff body and strained her ears to try to hear what was being said. She recognised the timbre of Charlie’s voice and her initial excitement was dampened by a dose of reality. She waited and, when it went quiet, she pulled on her clothes and slunk out of the bedroom.
‘Morning. How did you sleep?’ Penny must have been hovering outside. ‘Coffee?’ She held a large mug under Regan’s nose.
