her anger would melt away. She wanted to remember everything she loved about him. But she was unable to move. He lowered his arms, as if he understood, and pulled out a chair for her.
The Coffee Bean was packed with lunchtime customers. The noise was deafening but Julie shouted above it, talking non-stop about her new friends and Golden Eye, and how she was able to jump him over hurdles. Isobel tried to think of interesting things to tell him but there was only one thing she wanted him to know. The kindest thing to do was to remain silent about Victor kissing her mother but the knowledge buzzed like bees inside her head. How she wished she was Julie with new friends and a pony to love.
He told them he had left the Oasis of Hope and was renting an apartment in Dublin. ‘It’s the size of a shoebox,’ he admitted. ‘If I move my big toe it hits the opposite wall.’
They laughed obligingly. It wasn’t that funny but laughter seemed to fill the vast, empty space between them. He went back every day to the Oasis. Volunteering, he called it. He was building a fountain on the front lawn. Creating something beautiful for all the broken people with their broken lives who come to the Oasis to be cured. He squeezed Isobel’s hand and refused to be upset with her when she said, ‘And with all their broken promises.’
He attended meetings so that he could stay strong and learn to know himself. How ridiculous was that? He was in his forties. How come he didn’t know himself by now? Wasn’t that part of being grown-up? Being an adult? A father? But if he was only now beginning to know himself then how was Isobel supposed to make sense of anything?
‘I want you to meet Golden Eye,’ said Julie. ‘You won’t believe it when you see how well I can ride him.’
‘Is it far?’ he asked. ‘I don’t have a car with me.’
‘No car.’ They stared in amazement at him.
‘How did you get here?’ Julie asked.
‘By train to Cork then a bus to Clonmoore,’ he replied. ‘Don’t look so shocked. People travel by bus all the time. Now, I’m one of them.’
Isobel tried to imagine him sitting on a bus, staring into space with the same bored expression as all the other passengers. Impossible. But she could never have imagined them living with The Recluse in the middle of a deep, dark wood. Or her father gambling all their happiness away. Or Victor sitting like he belonged at the kitchen table and rolling that extra syllable around his tongue when he said, So-phi-a.
‘Cordelia says—’ Julie began and stopped when she saw him frown.
‘Cordelia? Do you mean the mannequin?’
‘Yes, Daddy. I’m training to be a ventril—’
‘Don’t tell me you brought it with you to Hyland Hall?’
‘Her, Daddy.’
‘She’s singing now.’ Isobel appealed to him. ‘Tell her to stop. She wakes me in the morning with her stupid songs. First, it was “Ten Green Bottles”, now it’s “Yellow Submarine”. It’s wrecking my head.’
‘It’s Cordelia singing.’ Julie stabbed at a chip.
‘No, it’s you driving me crazy. Cordelia’s not real.’
‘How do you know? Maybe you’re the one who’s not real.’
‘Oh, yeah? Feel this.’ Isobel shoved her arm forward. ‘That’s flesh, not plastic. And you can’t remove my arms and legs.’
‘No arguments,’ he pleaded. ‘Our time together is too short. Hurry up and finish your lunch. I want to see this amazing Golden Eye.’
At the riding school Julie trotted the pony in a circle and jumped him over a low railing.
‘She seems so settled.’ He leant on the rail surrounding the paddock and watched her. ‘But I haven’t seen you smile, really smile, all day, Isobel. Tell me what’s on your mind.’
‘Everything,’ she replied.
‘That’s a heavy burden to carry.’
‘You put it there.’
‘I’m sorry I let you down. But I’ll make things right again. You must believe me…’ His voice trailed away.
‘But how?’ she asked. ‘How?’
‘Trust me.’ He rubbed his hand across his forehead and sighed. ‘I’m taking one day at a time but—’
‘Don’t ask me to give it time,’ she interrupted him angrily. Why couldn’t he understand that their lives were changing while he was taking things one day at a time? One day led to two then three, and the days became months, years. ‘I hate living here! I hate it! The Recluse is so weird. You’ve no idea how scary he is.’
‘I’m sorry you’re finding it so difficult,’ he said. ‘I want you