Chapter Fourteen

Hal

For a while, Izzy and I date like any ordinary couple.

It’s a busy time at the Ark, as the bay is full of holidaymakers with pets to add to our already heaving surgery, and we work flat out from seven in the morning often to seven at night, with barely a break to grab a sandwich at lunch. Four times a week we’re on call for the Animal Welfare Team, and as much as possible we try to coordinate it so we go out together. We rescue six cats and numerous dogs, a couple of mistreated rabbits, and three sheep that are found wandering along the state highway. We treat broken legs and sew up wounds and desex and vaccinate where we can.

And then, in the evenings, our time is our own. We visit the cinema again, and the theater to watch some productions by the local amateur theater company. We go out for a few meals, or often just for a drink. Not always for long, as we’re often both tired after a long day’s work, but it’s nice to connect for an hour or two, and sit and chat.

Slowly, we’re growing comfortable with each other, not just as friends, but as… well, whatever we’re becoming. Not lovers, not yet. I’m taking my time there. But Izzy now holds my hand when we’re out. She lets me kiss her whenever the mood strikes me, and often kisses me when the mood strikes her. I’m in seventh heaven, although I’m having trouble concentrating considering a good proportion of the time the blood’s flowing to somewhere other than my brain.

The Saturday following our first date, I get the keys to my new place. It’s a nice house—the rent’s expensive but it has great views, and I like the fact that it holds no memories for me—hopefully when Izzy comes to stay eventually, it’ll be a fresh start.

Albie and Leon come with me to the house I shared with Rosie to collect the rest of my stuff. We go during the day as I’d hoped Rosie would be out, but she’s in, and she’s not pleased to see us. She doesn’t look good; she’s scraped her hair back into a ponytail, she isn’t wearing any makeup, and she looks miserable as hell. The place is covered with plates bearing half-eaten meals and other rubbish. She sits on the sofa and cries while I stuff the remainder of my clothes in bags. When I’m done, I approach her in the living room warily while Leon and Albie gather up the few pieces of furniture I own and carry them to the van we’ve hired for the occasion.

She’s a mess, and I don’t like to see her like this. But she’s not my girlfriend anymore, and I don’t want to have to deal with her tantrums.

“Are you going to stay here?” I ask her. “In the house?”

She doesn’t answer; she just continues crying.

It was my place first before she moved in, so I was paying the rent, and after she moved in, I continued to do so because money’s not an issue for me. But I can’t carry on paying. Izzy’s a lovely girl, but I don’t think she’d appreciate me keeping another woman, and anyway, I don’t want to pay to keep a woman who cheated on me.

“If you’re staying,” I tell her, “you’re going to have to take over the rent payments.”

She just cries harder. Behind me, I hear Leon and Albie come back in. I’m embarrassed they have to witness this.

“Rosie,” I snap. “For God’s sake.”

She dashes away her tears and gets up. “I can’t believe you’re being so mean to me. Aren’t you even going to let me get back on my feet?”

I stifle a swell of guilt and harden my heart. “I’ll let the next payment go through. That’ll give you two weeks. It’s plenty of time to find somewhere else, somewhere smaller.”

“I like it here,” she says. “It reminds me of you.”

“Rosie…”

“But I can’t afford to keep it.” Tears run down her cheeks. “Don’t make me leave, Hal.”

Frustration and guilt burn in my gut. I run a hand through my hair. I hate these theatrics. I’m sure she thinks I’m flattered by the fact that she wants me back, but I’m not, I want her out of my life.

“Rosie,” Leon says, coming to stand beside me, “Hal’s being more than generous. I know for a fact there are reasonable apartments available in town. You’ll have no trouble finding somewhere.”

“Fuck off,” she yells at him, her tears magically vanishing, “this is nothing to do with you.” Her venom shocks me, and it makes me realize this is all an act. It’s all staged—the tears, the tantrums. She’s a master manipulator, and she knows how to play on my good nature.

“Don’t be so fucking rude,” Leon snaps back. He’s not quite so good natured.

“You fired me,” she says. “I don’t have a job now. How am I supposed to pay my rent? You’re as much to blame for this as he is.”

“Bullshit,” I yell, finally losing my temper, “you’re the one who slept with someone else.” It’s the first time I’ve mentioned it in front of the guys.

Leon glances at me, and his brow darkens. Albie gives a wry, humorless laugh. “Jesus, Rosie.”

She goes scarlet. “Get out of my house!” she screams.

“With pleasure,” Leon mutters, and he turns and strides from the room, saying to me as he passes, “You’re well shot of her, dude.”

“He loves me!” she yells after him.

“If he did,” Albie says, “he doesn’t now. You’ve made sure of that.” He turns and follows his cousin.

I hesitate on the doorstep. “You’ve got two weeks,” I remind her.

She hurls a glass tumbler at my head. I duck and step out quickly, and it crashes against the beam and splinters onto the floor.

I walk away to the sound of her screams, filled with relief that we’re done.

*

On Tuesday, February fifth, the day before Waitangi Day—a national holiday celebrating the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi in 1840—I get a text from Noah asking whether I can come and see him at ten. I feel a swell of guilt; I’ve given no thought to his proposition because I’ve been so caught up with Izzy.

I ask Stefan to cover for me and slip out of the surgery. Izzy’s busy with a vocal Weimaraner who doesn’t want his claws clipped, and she doesn’t see me go.

I circle the veterinary center, pass behind the daycare center and smile at the dogs playing beneath the sprinkler in the large yard, and then cross to the gate leading to the house that lays back from the Ark, overlooking the ocean. I let myself through the gate and walk up the long path to the front door.

Noah’s waiting for me, and he opens the door and smiles as I approach. “Morena, Hal,” he says, the Maori word for hello.

“Kia ora, bro.” I shake his hand, then laugh as he pulls me into a bear hug. I’m incredibly fond of this guy, and I hug him tightly before releasing him to precede him into the house. I slip off my shoes and leave them at the door, which he closes behind me.

“Beautiful day,” he says, walking past me and leading the way into the kitchen.

“Gorgeous. Should be nice tomorrow, too.”

He gestures at the coffee maker. I nod, and he starts preparing us a drink. While he steams the milk, I drop to my haunches and greet Spike, the German Shepherd, who runs up to me. The wheelchair supporting his back legs bumps against the counter, but the dog is used to that and doesn’t flinch.

Noah found Spike two years ago on the side of the state highway, miles from any house. He’d been hit by a car that had damaged his spine, leaving his back legs paralyzed. Noah brought him into the veterinary center, and I took one look at his face and knew I had to do what I could to help the dog. He’s already had so much loss, and somehow the dog’s future reflected his own state of mind.

We both knew Spike’s back was broken and that he wouldn’t be able to walk again, but Izzy and I patched him up, and it was she who came up with the idea for the wheelchair. Noah loved it, and within a few weeks Spike was running around skinning everyone’s ankles and making a nuisance of himself, and Noah was like a new man.

Almost. He’s still a recluse, still hardly leaves his house, unless it’s to visit the hotel and be with the animals. He has a housekeeper and a PA, as well as several more dogs, and he holds meetings here with the heads of the Ark’s various departments, but he keeps to himself, and he seems content enough.

I can only imagine how it must feel to lose not just the love of your life, but your unborn child, too. Briefly, I think of Izzy, and what it would be like if she got pregnant with my baby. If that were to happen, and then they died, I wouldn’t want to leave the house, either.

“How are things?” Noah asks, waiting for the espresso to fill the cup before adding the frothy milk.

“Yeah, good. Busy. Usual surge of tourists. The vet center’s fit to burst. I think Izzy’s right and we’re going to have to add more rooms at some point.”

He pushes a mug over to me and fills his own. “And how’s Izzy?”

I push up to my feet and give him a wry look as I take the mug. “Someone’s been talking.”

“Leon might have mentioned Rosie’s meltdown.” He turns off the machine, stirs his mug, then gestures to the living room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I go into the large lounge. The front wall is almost entirely glass and looks out over the lawn. At the bottom there are steps down onto a private beach. Leon told me that he’s seen Noah walking there at night, in the dark.

The guy’s only forty-two; he could have another thirty or forty years left on this earth. It pains me to think of him suffering all that time. He needs to move on, but it’s an easy thing to say, and as I have no idea how a person in his position would achieve that, I keep quiet.

“Leon told Rosie to jump before she was pushed,” I admit, taking a seat on his large, cream leather couch and moving my feet out of the way as Spike bounces past. “I’m a bit ashamed of that. The Ark’s lost a good veterinary nurse because of me.”

“People come and go,” Noah says, directing Spike to sit, and eventually the dog settles beside him. “Nothing’s static, Hal. It wasn’t your fault how she reacted to you breaking up with her. Anyway, so, Izzy… Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”

I roll my eyes. Most of the staff who know have said the same thing. “Was it that obvious?”

“The two of you have been like a married couple in all but name for years.”

“Not quite all,” I say. “I’m working on the other bit.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I’m sure you are.” He gives me a fond smile. “I’m glad. She’ll settle you, keep your feet on the ground, and you’ll make her laugh.”

I feel bashful, like a sixteen-year-old who’s told his favorite uncle he’s taking a girl to the prom, even though he’s my step-cousin, not my uncle. “I hope so. We’ve been dating a couple of weeks now, and it’s good, it’s going well.”

Noah sips his coffee, and I wonder whether he’s thinking about Lisa, and how he had it good for a while, too.

“Did Leon tell you about his party?” I ask him. Leon’s having everyone over to his place tomorrow. It’s traditional on Waitangi Day to have a barbecue, and the Silver Ferns—New Zealand’s national netball team—are playing Australia in a final, so we’ll all be watching that in the evening. It promises to be a fun afternoon.

“Yes, he mentioned it,” Noah says.

“Don’t suppose you’d come?”

Noah smiles. “Nah, not my scene, but thanks for asking.”

I hesitate, wondering whether to press the matter, but Noah’s eyes meet mine over the rim of his mug, and I close my mouth.

“So,” he says, “given any thought to the new idea?”

We talk for a while about it. We’re both enthusiastic, but I tell him I need more time to make a decision, and I’m relieved when he suggests taking until the end of the month. It’s going to be a long, detailed project, and I know he wants to make sure I’m one hundred percent on board.

When we’re done, I finish off my coffee, and we chat for a while about the Ark in general and the rest of the staff. I’m like Noah’s weather vane—he gets a feel of which way the wind is blowing from me, of the mood of the Ark, and he keeps a vicarious connection with the place because of that. He loves the Ark and he desperately wants to be a part of it, but he doesn’t know how. He’s shut himself away because of Lisa, but it’s developed into more than dealing with his grief, or maybe the grief has metamorphosed—the guy’s full-blown agoraphobic now, and although he can cope one-on-one, he can’t deal with social situations anymore.

I give it another ten minutes, until I’m sure Stefan is cursing my name as he tries to deal with all the patients, and then I make my excuses and leave. I walk back, the summer breeze riffling my hair, the hot sun burning the back of my head. I feel twitchy. Part of it’s from seeing Noah—he tends to have that effect on me, like when I see an animal in captivity. I hate zoos. I always want to break the animals out, like Steve McQueen helping his fellow prisoners in The Great Escape.

But part of it’s the hot weather, and that I haven’t had sex for a long time. The moment when my relationship with Izzy will turn physical is blooming on the horizon like summer clouds, and I can feel the atmosphere changing subtly. I haven’t yet invited her to my place for an evening. I know when that happens things are going to develop fast, and I’m not sure if she’s ready yet. We kiss all the time, and her mouth and hands are hungry, almost as hungry as mine. We both know it’s coming, and I hope she’s as eager as I am to take that step, but I can’t be sure.

I stop walking, lean on the fence surrounding the paddock, and wave to Hector. He trots over to me, and I give him a peppermint. Something’s puzzling me about Izzy. She’s reticent, as I knew she would be, but it’s more than mere shyness; once or twice when I’ve tried to slip my hand beneath her top, she’s pushed me away. She’s nearly thirty, and she’s confident in every other way except this one. I wonder if it’s her scars she’s worried about. After all, she never bares her skin, even to her friends. Maybe she’s worried what I’ll think when I finally see her naked.

I can’t believe she’s never taken her clothes off with a man. Perhaps it’s just me. And for the first time I wonder whether holding off like this is a good idea, whether—like breaking up with Rosie—I’d do better to whip off the Band-Aid quickly.

Or maybe I’m just desperate to get laid. I acknowledge that is a factor.

I sigh, give Hector’s nose a last stroke, and head off back to the Ark.