She could hardly speak. Or breathe. She didn’t know what to say. Everything felt unreal. It was like time travel. As though she had fallen through two decades.
It was too late to respond because the next thing she heard was Nadia saying: ‘Here he is ...’
Nora nearly hung up the phone. Maybe she should have. But she didn’t. Now she knew it was a possibility, she needed to hear his voice again.
His breath first.
Then: ‘Hi Nora, how are you?’
Just that. Casual, non-specific, everyday. It was him. His voice. His strong voice that had always been so clipped. But a little thinner, maybe, a little weaker. A voice fifteen years older than it was meant to be.
‘Dad,’ she said. Her voice was a stunned whisper. ‘It’s you.’
‘You all right, Nora? Is this a bad line? Do you want to FaceTime?’
FaceTime. To see his face. No. That would be too much. This was already too much. Just the idea that there was a version of her dad alive at a time after FaceTime was invented. Her dad belonged in a world of landlines. When he died, he was only just warming to radical concepts like emails and text messages.
‘No,’ she said. ‘It was me. I was just thinking of something. I’m a bit distant. Sorry. How are you?’
‘Fine. We took Sally to the vets yesterday.’
She assumed Sally was a dog. Her parents had never had a dog, or any pet. Nora had begged for a dog or a cat when she was little but her dad had always said they tied you down.
‘What was wrong with her?’ Nora asked, trying to sound natural now.
‘Just her ears again. That infection keeps coming back.’
‘Oh right,’ she said, as though she knew Sally and her problematic ears. ‘Poor Sally. I ... I love you, Dad. And I just want to say that—’
‘Are you all right, Nora? You’re sounding a bit ... emotional.’
‘I just didn’t ...don’ttell you that enough. I just want you to know I love you. You are a good father. And in another life – the life where I quit swimming – I am full of regret over that.’
‘Nora?’
She felt awkward asking him anything, but she had to know. The questions started to burst out of her like water from a geyser.
‘Are you okay, Dad?’
‘Why wouldn’t I be?’
‘Just. You know ... You used to worry about chest pains.’
‘Haven’t had them since I got healthy again. That was years ago. You remember. My health kick? Hanging around Olympians does that to you. Got me back to rugby-fit. Coming up to sixteen years off the drink too. Cholesterol and blood pressure low, the doc says.’
‘Yes, of course ... I remember the health kick.’ And then another question came to her. But she had no idea how to ask it. So she did it directly.
‘How long have you been with Nadia now again?’
‘Are you having memory problems or something?’
‘No. Well, yes, maybe. I have just been thinking a lot about life recently.’
‘Are you a philosopher now?’
‘Well, I studied it.’
‘When?’
