‘Yeah. I thought …’ I trailed off, because to be honest I hadn’t really thought all that much about it, beyond how nice it would be not to feel so alone in the evenings.
‘Dogs are expensive though. Food and insurance and vet check-ups and haircuts.’ She ticked the items off on her fingers.
I made a face. ‘I’ll stop buying so much crap I don’t need and drink less wine.’
‘There’ll be fur everywhere.’
I waved an arm around the flat. ‘I don’t think being too house proud is going to be a problem.’ My tone was deadpan. Cesca has always been the tidier out of the two of us.
‘But what about when you’re at work?’
‘Oh …’ To be honest I hadn’t thought about that bit. ‘I work from home most days, and they could go to daycare when I’m in the office?’
‘And when you go away?’ She used her teacher voice. The same one she uses to keep errant teenage boys in line.
My shoulders slumped. ‘You’re right. It’s not practical. Not now.’
‘Maybe one day,’ she added with a grin.
‘Yeah.’ But there was defeat in the word.
‘You’ll be a fabulous dog mum,’ Cesca said.
But in this world, I’d obviously thrown caution to the wind. ‘What did I call you?’ I ask them.
But that problem very quickly resolves itself once we move into the kitchen. I am a crazy dog parent. Like, a literal lunatic who has lavished this girl with the very best of the best. And a LOT of it is personalized.
‘Lily,’ I read from the fancy wooden plinth on which sit two sparkling ceramic dog bowls. No cheap plastic for my furry princess, obviously.
Her tail wags in response.
‘Lily,’ I say again, this time with a tiny hint of a baby voice.
Her tail wags harder and she tilts her head, ears pricked. My heart melts.
‘Lily!’ I say, and this time I drop to my knees, arms open wide.
She does this adorable little jump and runs towards me, slightly baring her teeth on one side like a lopsided smile. She buries herself into me, tucking her head under my chin, her whole backside wiggling.
I sit back on my heels and take her head in my hands. Thosechocolate eyes bore into mine. ‘I love you, you goofball,’ I whisper. She chuffs in pleasure and then leads me to her food dish.
‘Don’t we walk first?’ I ask her, as if she could actually reply. I’m sure I read somewhere that you shouldn’t feed your dog before you walk.
She doesn’t reply, or at least not with speech. I mean, I suppose – in theory at least – there’s a world out there where dogs can talk and Lily and I are right now debating the whole diverging lives situation. I read a book once about how to teach your dog quantum physics, but that was in my world where that whole idea is just a framing device and potentially a way of implying the average reader is about as adept at the subject as an average dog.
Anyway, I’m digressing again; I feel I’m doing that more and more, like I’m starting to unwind. Like the more and more versions of myself I experience, the less I feel able to hold the strands of the narrative together. Does that sound stupid? I am only one Bethany. I’m not all these other Bethanys whose lives I’ve been experiencing, I’m a mere voyeur of the lives I could have lived. I have to keep reminding myself of that. These lives are notwhat-ifs. They arewhat was. They’re real but they exist only to that Bethany who lived them. If I try to think about it any other way I really will go mad.
So, I digressed about digressing. Jeez. Right then, back to Lily. She doesn’t reply with words but she does go to the front door and wait for me with what I can only describe as an expectant look on her gorgeous snouty face. Then she turns to the console table in the hall and stares at the large drawer at the bottom. I pull it open to reveal a harness, lead, and an inordinate number of poo bags.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Guess who we bump into at the park?
He’s walking a small scraggly mutt with a sweet face and one of those adorable little beards. Lily stops for a sniff and Tyler drops to his knees to give her a scratch.
‘Can I give her a treat?’ he asks glancing up at me. But then recognition clouds his face as he realizes who I am. ‘Oh.’ There’s a cold edge there.
Jesus, I’m bored of having to explain to him that we’re not mortal enemies any more, that actually we’re kind of friends now and even if we weren’t the universe really, really,reallywants us to spend time together.
