Animal Attraction

Henry grew up knowing how intelligent he was. A bold and reckless boy as a result of a puffed-up opinion of his own genius, the only calm his mother experienced during the day was Henry’s fascination with scientific documentaries shown on the Discovery Channel. As such when he requested from his extended family, for his eighteenth birthday, a widescreen LCD TV, there were few complaints despite the price tag.

His mother, however, had a different idea, which she proposed to him two days before his birthday. ‘How about a dog, honey?’ she asked as he sat eating dinner and watching a documentary on viewer-watching habits.

‘What?’ said Henry, not really listening.

‘A dog,’ said his mother. ‘Your father’s never at home, and you don’t have any siblings. What if I get you a dog for company?’

‘Whatever gave you the idea I wanted a dog?’ asked Henry rather rudely.

His mother’s voice turned steely. ‘Listen to me, son,’ she said. ‘All you do when you get home from school is watch television. You don’t have any real friends, and the highlight of your social calendar is Christmas when you’re forced to interact with your cousins. It’s time for you to become more sociable.’

Henry could recognise this was one of the few discussions where his mother would insist, so he answered, ‘Fine, Mum. Get a dog. Just so long as it doesn’t do its business around the house.’

‘You will be taking care of it,’ said his mother. ‘If it does “do its business” around the house, you will clean it up and take it outside. You will take it for a walk once a day, and feed it twice a day. In return, I will buy you a laptop.’

For the first time during the discussion, Henry tore his eyes from the screen to stare at his mother. ‘You’ll get me a laptop?’ he said incredulously. ‘You’re actually serious about this, aren’t you?’

‘Your father and I don’t like where you’re going,’ said his mother. ‘You may be smart, but that doesn’t excuse your laying like a sloth in front of the TV every day.’

And so, three days later, Henry was the reluctant recipient of a beagle named “Rascal”. The dog was barely two months old, and had soft white-brown fur and cute eyes.

‘Oh, isn’t he adorable?’ purred Henry’s mother when she brought him into the house the day after Henry’s birthday. ‘I just love his eyes.’

‘Mum,’ said Henry, who had another concern, ‘how did you get a beagle on such short notice? People usually wait for months before they can get one. Unless – ’ The thought suddenly dawned on him. ‘You have been waiting for months!’

‘Your father and I requested the dog a while ago,’ said his mother. ‘We were getting him no matter what you said.’

***

On his mother’s orders, Henry purchased a kennel for Rascal to sleep outside in, and a leather leash and several chewable toys. Henry couldn’t quite gasp his mother’s fascination with the dog, but he had to admit that having a dog in the house – or outside, as Rascal lived up to his name when inside – did pass the time almost as well as the Discovery Channel did.

Every morning at 7am, Henry would go outside and place two Weet-Bix with milk on top into Rascal’s food container before he began preparing for school. Every afternoon, after returning from school, he would place Rascal on a leash and walk him for half an hour around the block before feeding him again. And whenever he felt his mother was going to reprimand him about watching too much television, he would quickly head outside to play with the dog.

After a month, Henry’s mother noticed a marked improvement in his behaviour. No doubt a by-product of having to interact with other passers-by on his walks with Rascal, Henry could actually hold a conversation for more than a minute without becoming cheeky.

But from Henry’s point of view, the most important encounter he had on his walks was one afternoon when he was in a rather snippy mood from a poor day at school. He entered the house – to be greeted by the joyous barks from outside.

‘Hey, Rascal!’ smiled Henry as he headed outside to caress his dog. ‘Been waiting for me?’ For some inexplicable reason Rascal had suddenly cheered him up, as the dog enthusiastically licked Henry’s face.

An hour later, Henry had Rascal on a leash and was walking past his neighbour’s house. These particular neighbours had moved in a few months ago, and Henry had never seen any member of the family living in that house. On this particular day, however, a girl was out playing in the front garden. She stopped when she saw Rascal.

Henry was still in an unusually bouyant mood, and seeing this new neighbour gave him the most peculiar impression that he should introduce himself. He led Rascal over to the girl and said, ‘Hi, this is my dog, Rascal.’

The girl did not reply, but just stared at the dog. She was a pretty girl, about fourteen or fifteen years old with deep green eyes and dark hair falling over her pale face.

Rascal strained at his leash, trying to smell this new person.

‘Rascal, down,’ Henry ordered, and the dog sat obediently. Henry turned to the girl again. ‘I’m Henry. I live next door.’

Again, the girl said nothing, still gaping at Rascal.

‘Not a great talker, eh?’ said Henry casually. ‘Neither am I. At least tell me your name.’

As if hearing Henry for the first time, the girl’s eyes finally snapped up to Henry’s face. Her lips parted slightly, but said nothing.

‘I’m not going to hurt you,’ assured Henry. ‘And I’ll make sure Rascal doesn’t escape my leash.’

The girl finally spoke. ‘No – Norah,’ she stammered, as if she rarely used her voice.

‘Hi, Norah,’ said Henry. His usual brash demeanour somewhat quelled by the delicate girl before him, he knelt slightly to talk to her. ‘Do you want to touch him?’ he said, indicating the dog quivering slightly next to him.

Norah looked down at Rascal, and then she slowly stretched out a small, clearly afraid hand.

‘It’s all right,’ said Henry calmly. ‘Want me to help you? Reach out your hand and pat him on the head.’ He jerked his leash, and Rascal sat quietly.

Norah obediently began extending her arm, but when it came within a foot of the dog, she jerked it backward, and looked at Henry.

‘Want me to help you?’

She nodded frantically.

Henry took her hand and guided it toward the dog. Her hand was cold and clammy, but her face was determined.

And then – it may have been seconds or days later – she finally laid her hand on Rascal’s head.

It almost looked as if an electric shock ran through her arm, but Norah kept her hand on Rascal’s head, and began to pat gently. A wide smile broke across her face.

‘See?’ laughed Henry. ‘Not that scary, is it?’

She shook her head rapidly, and her smile became even more radiant. Rascal closed his eyes and his tongue rolled out, clearly enjoying the feminine touch.

For the next ten minutes or so, Norah made small but significant steps toward becoming quite friendly with Rascal, and Henry didn’t even notice when the time rolled past for the Discovery Channel documentary he had made a mental note to be home in time to watch.

‘So do you think you can talk now?’ asked Henry as Norah caressed Rascal’s head and scratched his ears.

Norah hesitated before replying, ‘Okay.’ Her voice was high and melodious.

‘Tell me a bit about yourself,’ said Henry. ‘Anything you like.’

Norah pursed her lips. When she spoke, it was in short, sharp sentences, with pauses between, as if she hadn’t yet practiced the art of conversation.

‘My sister’s Debra. She doesn’t like people. She says they’ll try to hurt me. But you won’t hurt me.’

‘Of course I won’t,’ Henry assured her.

‘I’m in ninth grade,’ she went on. ‘My teachers are mean. They think I should talk more. But I like to listen. That’s more fun.’

‘It can be,’ agreed Henry.

Norah hesitated before continuing, ‘Can you come by tomorrow? I like Rascal.’

‘I’ll definitely come tomorrow,’ promised Henry. ‘Rascal and I will be happy to see you.’

Norah’s face lit up, and her second smile was like sunshine breaking through clouds.

***

From then on, Henry made a point of walking Rascal at the same time of day so Norah would know when to expect him, and so that her older sister, Debra, wouldn’t interfere. Henry was interested to hear why Debra was so mistrustful, and as Norah gradually began to open up to him, Henry was more and more inclined to dislike this Debra.

Norah told him that her sister took care of her meals, took her to school and helped with her homework, but without a mother in the house, and their father always “sleepy” – which Henry took to mean “drunk” – Norah was often starved of emotional care. As time wore on, Henry saw the simple joy that Rascal brought to the girl was the affection that Norah longed to bestow on anyone who would take the time to pay attention to her.

And then the second important encounter occurred, and it was one that Henry least expected.

It so happened that one day as Norah was frolicking with Rascal in the sandpit under Henry’s watchful eye, a car pulled up into the driveway. Norah looked up, and her face fell as the car came to a stop at the other end of the driveway. From the driver’s door emerged the tall figure of Debra.

‘Hey, honey!’ she said breezily, removing her sunglasses and approaching the sandpit. Then she saw Rascal – and Henry nearby. Her face darkened immediately.

‘What are you doing?’ she said.

‘Playing with your sister,’ said Henry innocently. Now that he was seeing her up close, he realised she was probably no older than he was, and had a striking figure – tanned skin and luscious dark hair.

‘I don’t believe you,’ she said flatly, and turned to her sister. ‘Norah, was he hurting you?’

Norah shook her head frantically.

Debra cautiously looked at Henry again. ‘You swear you weren’t hurting her?’

‘I would never dream of it,’ said Henry fervently. ‘Your sister and my dog like each other, that’s all.’

Her face flickered, then softened. ‘Okay,’ she said finally. ‘My name’s Debra.’

‘I know,’ said Henry, coming up to her and shaking her hand. ‘Norah’s told me a lot of good things about you.’

‘She’s what?’ said Debra with some surprise.

‘She’s told me about how well you look after her,’ said Henry, wondering at the same time why the dislike he had poured into the image Norah had portrayed was suddenly oozing out of him. ‘How you’ve basically raised her since your mum died.’

‘Well – yeah,’ said Debra slowly, gazing at Norah. ‘She told you all that?’

‘Over the past couple of weeks, yes,’ said Henry, seeing no reason to hide the fact that this wasn’t their first meeting. Norah was caressing Rascal’s head in the sandpit, but watching her sister and her friend closely.

Suddenly Debra smiled, and for the first time in his life, Henry felt nervous in the presence of an attractive member of the opposite gender. He felt the sand in his hair and his loose clothing, and wished he had taken a shower.

‘You two seem pretty friendly,’ said Debra now. ‘She doesn’t have many friends,’ she added quietly to Henry. ‘She’s not very talkative. In fact … ’ but she did not finish the sentence.

‘Well,’ said Henry, ‘Rascal seems to bring out the best in Norah.’

‘Rascal … ’

‘ … is my pet beagle,’ explained Henry, gesturing to the dog in the sandpit wrestling around with Norah.

‘Rascal, huh?’ said Debra. ‘That’s a cute dog.’ She eyed Henry, as if seeing something else that was cute, and Henry felt his face redden.

‘Um … well, we’d better be going, then,’ he said quickly, the words almost tripping over each other in their haste to get out.

‘Wait!’ said Debra. ‘Can’t you at least give me your number?’

‘Oh, don’t worry,’ said Henry blithely, ‘I live next door, you can talk to me anytime.’

‘Okay,’ said Debra, and she suddenly grinned rather girlishly. ‘So I’ll see you around, then.’

Henry gathered up Rascal again, and gave what he hoped was a winning smile at Debra. ‘See you soon,’ he said, and took off down the road.

Debra watched him go with a radiant smile, but Norah looked just a tad unhappy.

Within six months Henry was accepted at the University of Western Australia for Communications, and was dating Debra, the star student for Occupational Therapy. Norah, still just twelve years old, watched but said nothing.

***

Four years went by, and Rascal grew into a slightly more placid but still just as adorable beagle. Henry still took him for a walk every day after returning from university; he still fed him morning and evening; and he still passed by Norah’s house on every walk, only now his heart leapt more to see Debra’s smiling face, her warm embrace and her gentle kiss on his cheek. In this fashion both Henry and Debra came to the end of their fourth and final year of their tertiary studies, and in celebration, both attended a raucous party at the beachhouse of their close friend Sam.

It was an hour into the late-night party attended by what seemed like more than fifty other fellow graduates, with beer flowing freely down everyone’s stomach and Debra’s bright and infectious laughter filling the house with what music was lacking from the already booming jukebox, when Norah arrived.

She had clearly developed from the shy, willowy girl that Henry had first met, thought Henry as he saw her come in. She was nineteen years old now, of medium height and with wavy dark hair to her shoulders. But what most likely got Henry’s attention, apart from the fact that she was at a university party, was that she had brought a guy with her. He looked to be a few years older, thuggish in appearance, with dreadlocks and tattooed biceps.

Norah breezed through the front door like she owned the house, and made a beeline for Henry and Debra.

‘Hi, guys!’ she said brightly in her creamy voice.

‘Norah!’ said Debra rather sharply. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Johnny invited me,’ answered Norah, indicating the craggy man-thing at her side. ‘Isn’t he adorable?’

Johnny looked, quite frankly, as if he were permanently stoned. ‘Dude,’ he said abruptly to Henry, ‘rad party, man! Got a smoke?’

Henry had not said a word, mostly because he was staring at Norah. But then he heard Johnny, and frowned.

‘No, dude,’ he replied, ‘I’d look elsewhere.’

‘Henry,’ chided Debra, ‘be nice. I’ll get you a drink.’ She stood and went with Johnny into the kitchen. Norah came and sat down next to Henry, who averted his eyes from the shapes jumping out at him from Norah’s body.

‘You can look, you know,’ said Norah drily. ‘Just don’t touch. Johnny might get jealous.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ said Henry stiffly. ‘What the hell are you doing with that guy?’

‘So you and Debra must be pretty close by now, huh?’ said Norah, ignoring his question.

‘Pretty close, yes,’ said Henry. ‘We have been going out for four years, you know. But back to you – ’

‘Do you think you’ll marry her?’ asked Norah suddenly.

Caught off-guard, Henry didn’t have an answer. ‘I’m not sure,’ he said finally.

‘You must be pretty sure by now,’ said Norah. ‘And you’ve just graduated, so you’ll get jobs and move in together.’

‘Well,’ said Henry awkwardly, ‘your sister and I haven’t really talked about … all that just yet.’

Just then the host of the party himself came around. ‘Henry!’ he exclaimed. ‘What happened to Debra? I thought you were a one-woman man, my friend.’

‘No, it’s nothing like that,’ said Henry, edging another guilty glance toward Norah. ‘This is my friend, Norah. She lives next door.’

‘You sure she’s legal to drink, man? Not that it matters – ’

‘I’ve drunk alcohol before, Sam,’ said Norah. ‘I’m not going to rat you out to the police.’

A wide smile broke out across Sam’s face. ‘So you know me,’ he said. ‘Well, mi casa, es su casa, my friend.’

Henry suddenly felt the alcohol going to his head. ‘Hey, man, can you tell me where the bathroom is?’

‘Sure,’ said Sam, pointing. ‘Just past the bedroom at the back.’

‘Thanks,’ replied Henry, and stood, staggering slightly.

‘Whoa! Watch it, buddy,’ said Norah, standing too, and steadying Henry’s shaky legs.

‘Uh – thanks,’ he said quickly, and hurried past her and Sam into the main corridor.

Several other guys slapped Henry’s hand or patted him on the back with a cheery “hey dude!” as he slowly progressed down the corridor, the music behind him receding (though the smell of alcohol did not). He was about to head past the bedroom when he thought he heard noise inside. Henry was not one to pry, but he thought he recognised the voice.

In disbelief he parted the door a crack and saw Debra and Johnny in tight embrace, lips pressed against each other.

Henry slammed the door and ran back through the corridor. He thought he heard the bedroom door behind him crack open and a voice yelling, ‘Henry!’ but ignored it completely, rushing past the kitchen, past a stunned Sam who was holding two beers in his hand, and bolted outside where he promptly emptied the contents of his entire dinner into the warm sand.

He could hear laughter behind him – obviously the other partygoers merely thought he was retching from too much beer – but continued to vomit relentlessly until he felt a cool hand on his back.

‘Henry?’ came the voice.

Henry ceased his onslaught, wiped his mouth with his hand and raised his head to look up into the face of Norah.

‘She … she … ’ But he could not seem to get the words out.

Words did not seem required for Norah to understand, however. Instead she stepped forward and embraced Henry and allowed the tears to pour from his eyes onto her back.

‘We’ll talk about it when we get home,’ she whispered, and took his hand and led him away.

Henry thought he saw Johnny emerge from the beach house, and could have sworn he saw the thug give Norah a small wink as they left, but he could not be sure.

They walked till they reached the nearby beach, and allowed the swelling sea beside them to do the talking for the next ten minutes. Norah never let go of his hand as she walked beside Henry.

‘Tell me what you feel,’ she said finally.

Henry tried to swallow and found it difficult.

‘Stupid, I guess,’ he answered. ‘I mean, I don’t even know if this was the first time, or if … ’ He let the words trail off as they continued to pace together.

‘I’m not going to press you for the details,’ said Norah. ‘But you should know – whenever you need to talk … ’

For the first time since he had fled the beachhouse, Henry smiled as he looked down on Norah in a new light. ‘And what about Johnny?’ he asked.

‘Oh, him?’ said Norah with some disgust. ‘I never really liked him anyway.’

‘Then why’d you go out with him?’

‘I knew he was a friend of Sam’s, so he would be at the party. That way, I could come too.’

‘Why would you want to come to this party in particular?’ asked Henry archly.

Norah smiled. ‘No reason,’ she said. Then her face grew serious. ‘Henry … you know I’ve always loved you.’

Henry didn’t reply and kept his face averted.

‘Ever since you came by that day with Rascal, and you were so nice to me, and no one’s ever been that nice to me. You are the sweetest guy I know. And even though I was young at the time, I always knew I wanted to be with you.’

Henry turned toward her, and saw the longing in her eyes.

He bent to kiss her.

***

Debra was invited to the marriage of Henry and Norah three years later, but despite being the bride’s only sister, she was relegated to a guest’s seat with her cousins. After the wedding, Norah estranged from her sister entirely. Henry was willing to abide by Norah in this, as he sometimes still could not believe he had been so lucky in love.

It was a year later when Norah rushed into the bedroom of the single-storey house she and Henry now shared.

‘It’s Rascal,’ she cried as Henry sat up in bed. ‘He’s sick.’

Since the wedding, Henry had taken ownership of the dog from his parents, and Norah had lavished much affection upon the canine she had grown so attached to over the years. So despite the time being six o’clock in the morning, and the prospect of another day of repetitive work, Henry roused himself from the bed and headed outside.

Rascal was indeed lying flat on his back as he often did when pleading for a belly rub, but his paws were curiously still and his breathing laboured. Henry saw the rashes that had developed on the dog’s chest and was concerned.

‘He has been scratching himself a lot lately,’ said Norah worriedly. ‘Was it the sultanas? Oh, I know I shouldn’t have changed his diet but I felt it was time for a change and now – ’

‘You started feeding him sultanas?’ said Henry in surprise. ‘When did this happen?’

‘About a week ago,’ said Norah.

‘Then don’t beat yourself up about it,’ said Henry. ‘We ran out of sultanas a few days ago, so it couldn’t have been them.’

Norah looked at him in surprise. ‘They ran out? But how come there are still sultanas in the box?’

‘Oh, they’re not actually sultanas,’ said Henry cheerfully. ‘They’re these novelty sweets I saw in the supermarket yesterday, they’re coated with – ’ And then his face paled. ‘Oh no.’

‘What?’

Henry told her.

‘Oh, no,’ whispered Norah.

***

One week later, the funeral for Rascal the beagle was held.

In attendance in what might have been otherwise branded a rather childish ceremony, were Henry, Norah, and Henry’s mother. Only these three truly understood the significance of the dog’s death.

‘Without Rascal,’ said Henry’s mother slowly, as Norah wiped her eyes with her handkerchief, ‘I would not have the beautiful daughter-in-law I have now.’

‘Rascal liked the simple things – Weet Bix in the morning, pats on the belly, the smell of fertile grass,’ added Henry solemnly. ‘He lived a healthy eight years and was as much a part of the family as any of us were. We will miss you.’ And he threw dirt on the grave he had dug in the back garden. Though at some points during the ceremony he had struggled to keep a straight face, Henry understood women to get emotional over the smallest of things, and this was certainly not one of the smallest.

As Norah bid Henry’s mother goodbye after the ceremony, Henry went outside to tip the box of chocolate-coated sultanas into the garbage bin.

***

‘It’s just – I don’t understand it,’ said Henry. ‘She had such an attachment to Rascal, and he was my dog! I don’t know why, but she’s even avoiding me at work these days.’ He looked at his visitor with pleading eyes. ‘Can you help?’

Debra laid her hand on Henry’s. ‘Norah needs to take her mind off Rascal,’ she told him. ‘Get her to join you on that new project at work you were telling me about.’

Henry considered. ‘Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,’ he decided. ‘Two heads are better than one.’

‘And Henry,’ said Debra, ‘thanks for coming to me on this one. I really do miss my little sister. I don’t know how much longer I could just stand by and watch – ’ Suddenly she stopped herself.

‘Watch what?’ asked Henry.

Then Debra’s kindly expression vanished, to be replaced by one of intense loathing. She leant forward to whisper into Henry’s ear.

‘Did you ever wonder,’ she told him, ‘why my beautiful sister has chased you all this time?’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Henry.

‘You don’t deserve her,’ she murmured. ‘Someday you’ll find out the real reason she’s in love with you. And when you do … you’ll wish you stayed with me.’

Henry stood abruptly.

‘I want you to leave,’ he snapped, pointing toward the door.

Debra complied, but even the sharp slap of the door slamming shut behind her as she left did not dispel the sudden doubts that had leapt into his mind.

***

It was that very night when a knock on the door at home led Henry to meet a pleasant Asian man. ‘Henry?’ he said, with his hand outstretched. ‘Debra told me you would be here.’

‘Hello,’ said Henry politely. ‘Do I know you?’

‘No, but I know your wife,’ said the man. ‘I’m Dr Jack Wong.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Henry.

‘There is something you should know about Norah,’ said Dr Wong a little cautiously.

‘I’m listening,’ said Henry slowly.

Dr Wong took a deep breath. ‘Having Norah collaborate with you at work was the best way you could have pulled her out of depression after the death of your dog.’

‘Excuse me,’ said Henry, ‘but I wouldn’t call it depression. Sure, she was a little distant – how did you know about Rascal anyway?’

‘Norah confided in me,’ said Dr Wong. ‘You see, I’ve been one of her doctors since she was a child.’

‘Doctors?’ said Henry, now confused. ‘What for?’

‘Perhaps I should clarify,’ said Dr Wong. ‘I’m an otolaryngologist.’

Henry blinked. ‘An otto-what?’

‘An otolaryngologist,’ repeated Dr Wong. ‘I deal with patients with speech problems. Norah was an exceptional case from an early age.’

‘Of course. I remember she was shy the first few times I saw her all those years ago.’

‘You don’t understand, Henry.’ Dr Wong took another breath. ‘There is something you should know before anything else happens.’

Henry stared, but before Dr Wong could elaborate, he felt a buzzing in his pocket from his mobile phone.

‘Stay right there,’ he instructed the doctor, and turned around to open his phone. ‘Hello?’

‘I can’t do this anymore, Henry,’ came his wife’s weeping voice. ‘My life’s not worth living. Your work helped me, for a while, but … ’

‘Norah? Honey, calm down!’ said Henry sharply. ‘Where are you? What are you doing?’

‘I – I’m at the bridge, Henry,’ said Norah. ‘I took the car and just kept driving … you’ve got to understand … it’s all just … too much for me …’

Henry tried to get another coherent word out of her, but she kept harping on about – of all things – Rascal.

So he shouted into the phone, ‘Norah, just stay there, okay? I’m coming right now!’ He closed the phone and found Dr Wong again. ‘Did you know anything about this?’

‘About what?’ asked Dr Wong.

‘My wife is about to kill herself!’ yelled Henry. ‘Tell me what the hell is going on!’

‘Kill herself?’ repeated Dr Wong, a look of horror coming over his face. ‘Then Henry … you must understand right now why she is contemplating such a move – ’

‘Tell me!’ he barked.

‘Norah was unusual for one simple reason. She had never spoken a word before the day she met your dog.’

Henry stared, incredulous.

‘It was one of the most unusual cases I had ever seen. She was eleven years old and had never so much as said, “Mum” or “Dad” or even her own name.’

Henry held up his hand. ‘So what you’re saying,’ said Henry slowly, ‘is that the first time she said anything, it was to my dog?’

‘Exactly,’ said Dr Wong. ‘Perhaps due to her traumatic childhood – you are aware her father beat her mother to death and was always drunk, and her sister was too busy coping with her own life – but she never uttered a word her entire childhood. Your dog was the first encounter with unadulterated affection she had ever had. And from there, she met you.’

As the doctor spoke, Henry remembered Debra’s surprise all those years ago when he had lied to her about Norah complimenting her big sister. And he realised – her surprise had not been at what Norah had apparently said about her, but the fact that she had said anything at all.

‘Now, I don’t want you to doubt yourself,’ continued Dr Wong, ‘because she does adore you. But the fact remains – she wouldn’t have opened up to you if Rascal had not been present. I believe her connection to Rascal was so strong it went beyond mere companionship and stretched to genuine love, and his death was the catalyst for her depression and her current suicide attempt.’

And then Henry remembered Debra’s words from a year ago, and their full implication rained down on him.

‘Oh, my God,’ he whispered, and ran out of the hall.

***

It took Henry all his strength of will to coerce his wife to back off from the bridge railing in the middle of a pouring rainstorm. The whole trip home, his mind was racing from what he had just experienced, but also with revelation.

‘Henry?’ said Norah faintly, crumpled on the front seat of the car, as raindrops scattered on the windshield.

Henry leant over and stroked her hair. ‘I’m right here, Norah,’ he said.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I promise I won’t do anything silly like that again. I love you – and Rascal.’

‘Honey,’ said Henry, ‘Rascal’s …’

But then he saw his wife’s despondent expression, and bit his reply, preferring to drive silently.

***

Three weeks later Henry checked his wife into the Northlands Psychiatric Centre under the care of Dr Jack Wong. Since the night of her suicide attempt, she had not spoken a single word.

The night after he had sent his wife to therapy, Henry went outside to put the garbage out – and came face to face with Debra, standing calmly in the rain at the top of the driveway.

‘How does it feel,’ she called, ‘to know your wife only married you for a dog?’

Henry turned around and walked back inside.