Epilogue
Several times along the road, Isaac almost turned around and headed back home. But he made himself push on through the wintery slush on the pavements, made himself continue his journey to the pub. He’d been avoiding the place—avoiding everyone, really—for weeks. It was time to get back into the real world. Work had been necessary, but he’d basically turned up, done his job, and returned home again. Gone was the happy personality his patients had liked so much. He’d even overheard one of his more flirtatious ladies trotting out the cliché that he was a shadow of his former self and she wondered if somebody had died. He’d wanted to storm into the waiting room and say that, in a manner of speaking, yes, somebody had died. But he had kept a lid on it and the only damage he’d inflicte
