I want a second chance to become a doctor.

When I told Tim, I worried he’d laugh. But instead he kissed me and immediately promised to do everything he can. Payback time, he’d said.

There are no guarantees. I’ll have to retake Chemistry and Physics, get more volunteering experience, build up my application. I can’t wait to get home and begin.

Now Tim and I stand alone on the veranda, sheltered from the rain.

‘I want to go for one last walk,’ he says. It has become a nightly ritual for us over the past few weeks..

‘Sure.’

We take our usual route around the edge of the campus, listening to the kids in their dance class, and the singing coming from the refectory. Tim slips his hand into mine. It fits perfectly. I never noticed that before.

‘I’ll miss this place,’ he says.

‘The work?’

‘Partly. But also, I’m not looking forward to being a clueless medical student again.’

The sounds of the forest get louder the further we get from the buildings. I won’t tell him how much I envy him, that I’d swap in an instant, even though his next two years will be the toughest yet.

Still, I’ll be patient. He’ll qualify before I can go anywhere near medical school, and then we’ll swap. He’ll be earning, I will study.

‘You won’t always feel clueless, Tim. In a way it’s better to be unsure of yourself; you’re less likely to make mistakes.’

He stops, next to our favourite tendu tree, with foliage so dense you can stand underneath it in the heaviest monsoon rain and barely get wet. ‘The other thing I’m going to miss is being here, with you—’

I laugh. ‘We’re going to be together back home.’

‘Hear me out, Kerry.’

I nod.

‘You always tell me off for not being wilder. But this is the wildest thing I’ve ever done, coming here. And it worked, didn’t it? Not only for me but for . . . well, us.’

‘We’re OK,’ I say and I mean it. ‘Much more than OK.’

He turns to face me and takes my other hand. ‘I couldn’t be the person I am without you, and I don’t want to be without you . . . Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to do. Probably is . . .’

‘What is?’

‘I know I’m shit at this stuff but . . . Kerry Smith, would you . . . not now but soon, maybe, if you could bear it. Would you consider marrying me?’

Chapter 26: Joel

4 August 2003

Tim summons me to our bench as soon as he gets back from India. His face is tanned and he pulses with self-satisfaction.

I can barely look at him. I wonder what pills he needs from me this time.

‘Kerry and I are getting married,’ he announces, studying my reaction.

‘Wow,’ I manage. After a few seconds, I add, ‘Congratulations, I guess.’