Page 70 of The Good Boy

There’s a lull of quiet between us as we listen to the rush of the waves and cries of the gulls. Rory’s stopped splashing and is looking out to sea. I wonder what he’s thinking about. Nanna Maria is right about one thing: this whole impossible business with Rory has woken me up from a kind of hibernation. It’s made me see how much better life is with more people in it. How perfect it could be with more of Miles in it.

We reach the rock pools in companionable silence, and I can’t help thinking how easy it is to be with him. Not just now, but always. That his presence is a salve that always gives me a kind of peace. Maybe I should just... tell him? Now before he and Claudia are really a thing.

But then what if I tell him, and he looks at me, dumbfounded, and has no choice but to tell me that although he loves me, it’s not like that? Or worse, what if I stop him from being happy with Claudia? And after nothing would be the same, and these little snatches of contentment would be gone forever. That’s the problem with pursuing the idea of happiness. There’s always a price, and sometimes it’s too high. There is no way I’d make Miles pay for something that might not even exist.

Rory has stopped playing. He is just standing there, perfectly still, gazing at the horizon.

“Rory!” I call out. “Ready to come back? Rory?”

Glancing at Miles, I climb out onto the rocks that are normally covered by the sea and begin to make my way over the slippery seaweed and clear pools, followed by Miles. Eventually we get to where Rory is, and when I look at his face I see the very last thing I expected. Rory is crying.

“Rory,” I say taking his hand. “What’s up, feller?”

“This isn’t me,” he says, turning to me. “I never really thought about me and what I was before all this. I just thought about the now and cheese. But now suddenly, nothing feels right. Like there’s this big jumble of feelings stuff that I am supposed to make fit into this skin, but I can’t. There’s too many and they are too big and... it hurts. Genie, I think I’m forgetting how to be a dog.”

“No, no, you aren’t!” I tell him, taking his hand. “Only this morning you ate a whole packet of Cheerios off the floor and swore at the postman. You aren’t forgetting how to be a dog, Rory. Being a dog is who you are!”

“The real me is fading away, I know it is,” he says. “I used to be able to stand here and look at the sea and smell everything brilliant. Chips, seawater, dead crabs, seagulls, seaweed, visiting dogs, friend dogs, cats, little kids and big men. I could take in a deep whiff and I’d get a picture of all of everything, all around me, popping up in sorts of images that told me everything I needed to know. But now when I breathe in”—he takes in a deep breath through his nose—“there’s hardly anything there. If I stay like this much longer I won’t even remember what it’s like to be a dog at all.”

“I won’t let you forget,” I tell him. “I’ll remind you every day.”

“But you only know what it feels like to be human,” he says.

“Being human isn’t all bad. Look, Rory, we will figure this out, I promise you.”

“I will do my best to help too,” Miles says. “And look, maybe there is no way to turn you back into a dog, but on the upside, as a dog you were two-thirds through your life. Now you’ve got at least another fifty years.”

“Fifty years?” Rory looks at me. “Fifty dog years or human years?”

“Human years...” I mutter.

“Fifty long, pointless, sad, miserable human years? And I thought this day couldn’t get any worse,” Rory says.

Please see my earlier note on such comments, and how they tempt the fates.

“Oh, good, you’re back!” Claudia says as we walk into the shop. “Well, that was very revealing. Genie, it must be brilliant to have a grandma that can tell you what the future holds!”

“It’s definitely interesting,” I say, with a fixed grin, and suddenly I get another vision, of Miles and Claudia holding hands across a candlelit table, gazing into each other’s eyes like they were always meant to be. I know in my heart right now that this is a moment that is happening sometime in the near future. I know this moment will come to pass; more than that, it has to.

Nanna gives me a look, narrowing her eyes, before she turns back to Claudia.

“Such a joy to meet you, Claudia,” Nan tells her fondly. “I have no doubt that your love is destined to be reciprocated.”

“That’s made my day,” Claudia tells her, clasping both her hands. I open the door to let them out, but Claudia pauses.

“I don’t know if Miles told you, Genie, but I’ve just moved to Scarborough. And I really want to make some friends. Miles said that when he first moved to Scarborough you were the one that made him feel at home. So I’m wondering: Would it be okay if I invited you and Rory, and Miles, of course, to dinner?” She looks at Miles.

“Oh, um...”

“I like dinner,” Rory says. “We accept.”

“Brilliant.” Claudia claps her hands together. “Oh god, I’m not going to get you all into my studio, though. Miles, would it be okay if I hosted at your house? I’ll buy everything, cook it, and clean up afterward, I promise. Please?”

“Er, yeah, sure?” Miles says.

“So, you and Rory are invited for dinner tonight at Miles’s house. It’s going to be great!”

Thanks, fate. Thanks a bunch.

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