The Day I Lost You: A heartfelt, emotion-packed, twist-filled read. Fionnuala Kearney
you had Anna to deal with. Have Anna to deal with. Harriet and I—’
I shake my head. ‘It’s not a competition. Friends help each other. I haven’t been around for you. That’s all I wanted to say, so, I’ll finish this cup of tea and be on my way with Pug.’
I stare at him over the rim of the mug. We have an unusual friendship; have done since that day he first came to the surgery as a visiting locum and drove into the back of my car. The memory of a much less self-assured, younger Theo comes to mind. A memory of him being on duty in A&E the night a teenage Anna drank too much and needed her stomach pumped; a memory of a colleague’s drunken laughter over our ‘friendship’ one Christmas. But that’s what it was and always has been: a deep, loving friendship. He’s what I would have in a girlfriend, except he’s a guy. I’m what he would have in a guy-friend, what he has with his real guy-friends. It’s simple, uncomplicated, and works for us.
And right now he looks tired. Dark shadows circle his green eyes, both of which follow the only sound in the room – Pug padding across the tiled floor, sniffing out new territory. Theo takes a seat at the circular kitchen table, kicks out a chair opposite him. ‘Sit. You’re here now, take your time. Let’s talk.’
I plonk myself down on the chair, one eye on the roaming dog. ‘You must miss her.’ It’s a statement more than a question and he shrugs.
‘I miss the woman I thought I knew,’ he says. ‘I miss her being around; having someone to share things with. I miss her being here for Finn.’
‘Doug left me when Anna was the same age. It’s tough for them. All they want is their mum and dad together.’
‘I knew the relationship had changed, but I thought it was just a phase and that we’d get back on track with time. I never thought …’ He hesitates. ‘I suppose whatever I thought about her leaving me, I never thought she’d walk away from Finn. Yet it’s the best thing she could have done for him – leave him here in his home, at his school, with his father. Out of the whole scenario, that’s both the best and shittiest thing she’s done.’ He laces his hands behind his neck. ‘Anyway …’
I bite my tongue. I haven’t been able to understand her being able to leave Finn either, but the facts are it happens, and no one – not a soul – questioned Doug leaving Anna in the same manner. If I’m honest, part of me admires Harriet’s strength to do it, and another part of me is beyond angry that she could willingly walk away from her child when I’ve probably had mine stolen from me.
‘I’m going to see my parents tomorrow.’ I change the subject, glancing at my watch. ‘Today, later this morning.’
‘You’re ready to see them?’ he asks, acknowledging the fact that I’ve managed to avoid visiting for more than ten weeks.
‘Leah and Gus are going for the day tomorrow. It’s a lot to do in one day, but they’ve talked me into going. They’re right. Mum is constantly phoning, tries her best, and she already has her hands full looking after Dad.’ I stop to draw breath. ‘Look, I just really wanted to say thank you for being there for me and to let you know I’m here for you too.’
‘Don’t worry about me. You have enough on your mind.’
My eyes rest on old school drawings pinned to the notice board next to the fridge. Frayed and yellowing, Finn’s earliest artwork, they’re years old and they make me think of Rose and how much I’ve missed her. Since Anna’s accident, I have had Rose to look after pretty much full time, apart from the days that Sean has had her for odd weekends. Having her fill my life helps me avoid thinking. Thinking about Anna, wondering where she is; wondering if I will ever have the closure of burying her; wondering if someday she’ll phone me from a bar in Brazil and explain that she’s alive and kicking – that becoming a mother at nineteen was just too much for her and that she just had to get away.
‘I should go,’ I say. ‘It’s late, sorry for the midnight call.’ I bend down and pick Pug up. Theo stands and we walk to the door together. ‘Just tell me one thing.’ I narrow my eyes under the hallway light. ‘Are you all right?’
He laughs. ‘I’m not sure what’s brought this on, but I’m fine. Really.’
‘Your wife of twelve years left you. I remember the hole that leaves. I’m sorry it took me a while to say that.’ I attempt a weak smile, kiss his cheek. ‘I choose to believe that Anna’s alive and it keeps my lungs working. You have to find your way forward too.’
Theo says nothing, just nods and hugs me before I leave.
As soon as I get home, enter my own kitchen, the first thing I see is the red light of the answer machine. I place Pug on the tatty sofa at the far end of the room, go back to the car and retrieve all the puppy paraphernalia that Leah had also bought. There’s a bed-like thing; I set it up in the warmest part of the room and transfer the dog to the centre of it. I press the red light and hear Doug’s low voice.
‘Jess, it’s me. It’s Saturday night. Can you give me a call when you get back, doesn’t matter what time it is?’
My stomach churns as I dial his number.
‘It’s me.’
‘Hi, I tried your mobile earlier but your phone kept ringing out.’
‘I was at Leah’s – it’s an awful signal there.’ My mobile service provider seems to be the only one with no mast in earshot of Leah’s.
‘Anyway—’
Pug starts to howl.
‘Is that a dog?’ Doug asks.
‘It is. Say hi to Pug.’
‘Right.’
‘Leah’s idea, not mine.’ Pug’s sound rises to a steep crescendo. ‘It’s late, Doug.’
‘Yes. I—’
‘Oh, for crying out loud, Doug, spit it out,’ I say, instantly thinking of Anna. I had spent a whole month after the accident hoping she was spitting her way to safety. Some Discovery Channel thing I’d seen once upon a time …
‘They’ve found a body,’ he replies. ‘It’s the boy, Lawrence.’
I say nothing. I can’t. His first words have made my stomach contract. His second sentence fills me with instant relief, then pain, and then Gus’s wonderful food threatens to reappear. Words will not form. Sounds will not sound.
‘Jess?’
‘I’m here.’ I force the syllables together.
‘I thought you should know. I was going to go over to France again but, I don’t know, Carol says there’s not much point, not if they’re sure.’
She’s right.
‘It’s so late. Maybe too late to digest this. Call me tomorrow?’ he says.
I look at the clock. It is tomorrow. ‘Do you sleep, Doug?’ Words I hadn’t expected to say, form themselves of their own accord.
‘Not really. Not well. Not any more,’ he replies.
‘Me neither. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll call you later.’
Just as I hang up the phone, Pug howls again. She crosses the room to my feet and I’d swear she’s crying.
Two hours later, the dog is still baying. I am sitting at my kitchen table with my head in my hands, cursing Leah. Anna and I seem to have a glass of vodka together, and as I pop another pill, I consider, just for a brief second, crushing one into Pug’s milk.
At 3.16, Pug is Valium-free and silent. I am talking to myself, aware in the blackness of the night that Anna is not really here and I am tonight, apart from this dog, very much alone.