Page 33 of Savage Obsession

She made a good point. I can see that now. There is more to parenting than sending cash. Some problems you can simply throw money at, but others need more direct action. The personal touch. Children need an investment of time, energy, wisdom, patience. Love.

I condemned Julia to years of lone parenthood and never once asked her how it was going. I knew her relationship with her parents was strained, largely because of me, so I have no idea what support she was able to draw on. Maybe she was on her own with it. No wonder a manipulative user like Debinbski was able to get his hooks into her.

Was she lonely? Vulnerable? Men like him can sniff out weakness, home in on a likely target. I should know, I’m not that much different. In my anger at what had happened to Lily, I never took the time to consider how it had happened. I never asked how she was. I was quick to accuse, then slow to listen when she tried to explain.

The last few days have evoked a whole raft of new emotions for me, new experiences, new issues to grapple with, and I’m seriously lacking in relevant skills. My usual approach is irrelevant here. Brute force won’t work with Julia, I wouldn’t even want to try. I’m handy enough with my fists but never with her. Never with any woman, in fact. It’s one of my private rules.

So many questions I need to ask, and I’m not even sure I have the vocabulary for the task. I know all about duty, efficiency, strategy, and getting the job done, and next to nothing of compassion, caring, or tenderness.

Something tells me I’m going to have to learn, and fast.

“Are we okay?”

Julia asks me the question as we chew on our vending machine cornflakes and Henry laps up the spare milk from a tin lid I scrounged up from the boot of the car.

“Okay?” I play dumb.

“After last night, I mean.”

“Did I hurt you?” Christ, I hope not.

“No! No, it was… good. Better than good. I just… it was unexpected.”

“True. I don’t regret it.” I want to get that out of the way from the start.

She shakes her head. “Me neither, but…”

I put down the plastic bowl and spoon. “We need to talk. I can see that. But we’ll have to do it on the way. We have a ferry to catch.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I didn’t mean we should?—”

I lay my hand over hers. “It’s okay. We’re okay, at least as far as I’m concerned. For what it’s worth, I owe you an apology and I’ll offer that much here and now.”

She simply stares at me, open-mouthed. “An apology? For last night?”

“No. At least, not the fucking part. The rest, though, the things I said. I was cruel, and I was wrong.”

“You mean, you… believe me? About Gerek?”

Do I? Maybe not entirely, but I’m getting closer. I can start to imagine how that bellend wormed his way into her home, and perhaps the blame isn’t entirely hers. “I can see it’s more complicated than I thought.” I get to my feet and grab both our bags “Let’s continue this in the car.”

We stop off at a local store to buy some proper dog food and a bowl, as well as a few packs of sandwiches. Apart from the inevitable toilet breaks, we’re hoping not to stop again until we reach the port.

I’m driving when we join the autobahn heading west. The route will take us through Leipzig and eventually Dusseldorf, and as there’s no speed limit to speak of on the German autobahn, I’m intending to make good time.

“You might as well get some sleep,” I tell Julia. Henry has already curled up on the rear seat. His soft snores and occasional squeaks suggest dreams of bones and rabbits and other doggy delights.

“I’m fine. I thought we were going to talk.”

Oh well, here we go…

“I should have kept in touch,” I begin.

“You did. You sent money every month.”

“I meant, really keep in touch. I never spoke to you, asked you how you were.”

“I was fine,” she retorts.

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