‘Compassion is the basis of morality,’ the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer had written, in one of his softer moments. Maybe it was the basis of life too.
There was one man who worked there called Dylan, who had a natural way with all the dogs. He was about her age, maybe younger. He had a kind, gentle, sad look about him. His long surf-dude hair golden as a retriever. He came and sat next to Nora on a bench at lunch, overlooking the field.
‘What are you having today?’ he asked, sweetly, nodding to Nora’s lunchbox.
She honestly didn’t know – she had found it already prepared when she’d opened her magnet- and calendar-cluttered fridge that morning. She peeled off the lid to find a cheese and Marmite sandwich and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps. The sky darkened and the wind picked up.
‘Oh crap,’ Nora said. ‘It’s going to rain.’
‘Maybe, but the dogs are all still in their cages.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Dogs can smell when rain is coming, so they often head indoors if they think it’s going to happen. Isn’t that cool? That they can predict the future with theirnose?’
‘Yes,’ said Nora. ‘Way cool.’
Nora bit into her cheese sandwich. And then Dylan put his arm around her.
Nora jumped up.
‘—the hell?’ she said.
Dylan looked deeply apologetic. And a little horrified at himself. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt your shoulder?’
‘No ... I just ... I ... No. No. It’s fine.’
She discovered that Dylan was her boyfriend and that he had gone to the same secondary school as her. Hazeldene Comp. And that he was two years younger.
Nora could remember the day her dad died, when she was in the school library staring as a blond boy from a couple of years below ran past outside the rain-speckled window.Either chasing someone or being chased. That had been him. She had vaguely liked him, from a distance, but without really knowing him or thinking about him at all.
‘You all right, Norster?’ Dylan asked.
Norster?
‘Yeah. I was just ... Yeah. I’m fine.’
Nora sat down again but left a bit more bench between them. There was nothing overtly wrong with Dylan. He was sweet. And she was sure that in this life she genuinely liked him. Maybe even loved him. But entering a life wasn’t the same as entering an emotion.
‘By the way, did you book Gino’s?’
Gino’s. The Italian. Nora had gone there as a teenager. She was surprised it was still going.
‘What?’
‘Gino’s? The pizza place? For tonight? You said you kind of know the manager there.’
‘My dad used to, yeah.’
‘So, did you manage to call?’
‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘But actually, it is fully booked.’
‘On a weeknight? Weird. That’s a shame. I love pizza. And pasta. And lasagne. And—’
‘Right,’ said Nora. ‘Yes. I get it. I completely get it. I know it was strange. But they had a couple of big bookings.’
Dylan already had his phone out. He was eager. ‘I’ll try La Cantina. You know. The Mexican. Tons of vegan options. I love a Mexican, don’t you?’
