Rupert chuckled. “Yeah?”
“Maybe. Can you help me up?”
Rupert helped Jodi roll over and sit up, then he sat back on his heels and took in Jodi’s flushed cheeks and dazed grin. “You really are okay, aren’t you?”
“Rupert, I’m happy. I don’t know what else there is.”
There was nothing else. Rupert found the duvet that had somehow ended up on the floor and the toy box caught his eye. He lifted the lid and retrieved the probe. “This was our favourite. We used it all the time.”
“I thought it looked interesting.”
Jodi smirked, but it was overtaken by a yawn. Rupert chuckled and tossed the probe in the box. He lay the duvet over Jodi, then drifted to the bathroom to clean up. On the way back, the door to Jodi’s office called to him. He padded inside and scanned the shelves until he found the photo album Jodi had asked about in the hospital.There it is.Despite Jodi’s request, they’d yet to get round to looking at it.
He took it into the bedroom and held it out. “I’d forgotten about this. You always said there was no point having physical albums anymore when everything was stored on our phones and computers. We only have the photos in the living room up because Indie made us.”
“That’s sad ... and I was wrong. I wish I’d seen this a long time ago.” Jodi took the album and flipped to a photo of him and Rupert lying on the grass in Hyde Park, enjoying a hazy summer afternoon of London sun. “There’s no way I could’ve denied this.”
“I’m sorry.”
Jodi glanced up. “Don’t be. It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”
“I guess so.”
“You know so.” Jodi held out his hand and beckoned Rupert closer, then tugged him into the bed to lie beside him. “This whole thing has been a nightmare for both of us, but ’m happy now, Rupe, I really am.”
“Then I’m happy too. I still don’t understand, though.”
Jodi shrugged. “Neither do I, but I don’t care. I reckon there will always be a part of my brain out there, waiting for me to catch up, but I’m in no hurry to find it. Here and now, you and me, it’s enough for me.”
It made as much sense as anything ever had. Rupert pulled Jodi close and kissed his head. “It’s more than enough, boyo. It’s everything.”
EPILOGUE
Indie clutched Jodi’s hand and pressed her face to the glass window. “Can we have the white one?”
Jodi followed her mesmerised gaze and regretfully shook his head. “No kittens, remember? Daddy said.”
“Daddy said no pets, ever, actually.”
She had a point, but Jodi was hoping Rupert hadn’t truly meant the words he’d uttered so forcefully when Jodi had asked if he could bring Indie to the rescue home half a mile from the flat. “I’m sure he’ll change his mind if we find the right one. A grown-up cat who doesn’t make a mess.”
“But I don’t know which one to choose,” she wailed. “There’s so many. I want them all.”
“Okay, how about we go and get a drink and have a think about it?”
It took a while to coax Indie from the kitten ward of the rescue home, but eventually they found themselves in the café, Indie drinking a lurid pink Slush Puppie that would make Rupert’s hair curl when he found out about it, and Jodi fumbling with the cap on a bottle of water.
Indie took the bottle from him and removed the cap. “Jodi?”
“Yeah?”
“Will your hands always shake?”
He resisted the urge to sit on his offending hands. He’d grown so used to the random tremors that he often didn’t notice them, but Indie did. Indie saw everything. “Only when I’m trying to make them do something they’ve forgotten how to do.”
“Ah.” She nodded sagely. “Have your eyes forgotten how to see your computer too?”
He chuckled. “A little bit, but it’s all right, because I’ve got me some Clark Kent glasses to help.”
