100TWC - Day 12: Dead Wrong

I've heard people talk about things "going round and round" in their head. I wish that was me. At least if something was going round and round there'd be some movement. I'd have chance to see it from other angles. Or at least watch its precession. As it is I'm stuck with just one thought. It's there all the time. Right there. In front of my mind. Wherever I look, it hangs there in the air in front of me. Whatever sounds I'm hearing, it's like they're just background noise. In my head is only my voice, saying that one thought over and over: It should have been me.

Warren wasn't supposed to be going into the office that morning. It was his turn to look after Dylan and Brigit. I was going in - different office; same building. In fact I had a bitch of a deadline and I'd already been up half the night preparing the presentation. We had clients lined up, the board, everything. I don't know what made me check my email before I set off. Normally I wouldn't have bothered. I didn't get to bed until almost 3am, and nothing much ever comes in after that, even in our business. But something told me I should give it one last check and sure enough, there's this new message, marked urgent, sent at 5:35am from Roger - our MD.

Presentation postponed - urgent family illness for one of our client's team - will advise new date soonest.

And that was it. I felt a bit let down to tell you the truth. I'd got myself all worked up for it. All psyched up and nowhere to go, that was how I put it to Warren when I walked back into the bedroom where he was engaging in a game of Voyage to the Bottom of The Bed with Dylan.

"Huh?" he mumbled from under the covers.
He poked his head out from the bottom left hand corner of the duvet, face all red from exerting himself under 15 togs.
"Nowhere to go?"
"Presentation's off."
He looked thoughtful.
"So you've nothing on today?"
"Well, no. No I guess not. Roger isn't gonna want me to get distracted with anything else, and there's nothing more to do on this account until we can get it in front of the customer."
"Would you mind if I went in then?"
"It's supposed to be your home day."
"I know, but there's a couple of things I could get on top of if I went in. I wouldn't have bothered if..."
"No, it's OK. You go. It'd be great to have an unexpected day with the kids. What do you say kids?"
Brigit had just appeared at the door, dragging her threadbare Snoopy.
"French Toast?"
Her sleepy crumpled face lit up.
"Yayy"
"Yayy," echoed Dylan from under our duvet.
Warren was already in the shower.

Later we all kissed him goodbye just like it was any other working day. I guess 3,000 or so other partners and children did the same. Those who were up so early.

I was putting the French toast pan in the sink when the phone rang. It was Michelle.

"Put the TV on. The news. Oh God."
I could hear her TV on in the background. It seemed much louder than usual. I flipped our kitchen TV to the news channel. At first I couldn't make sense of what I was seeing. It was just a cloud of dust. I thought one of those terrorist mobs had gone through with their threat of exploding an Anthrax bomb or something. Then they reran the footage of the planes. The towers. Warren. I dropped the phone. And then I must have gone onto autopilot because suddenly I was scrabbling to pick it up again. To hang up from Michelle and call Warren's office. And I couldn't get through and couldn't get through and then I thought 'what if he's trying to call me?' and I hung up and waited.

And at that very moment, the second I hung up, the second tower came down and I knew. I knew he was in there. In his office on the 72nd floor, when it should have been me. I should have been there. But I was here and he was there. And he would never have been able to get out. Not from that. He was dead and it should have been me.

That's when it started. I don't know when it's going to end. If it ever ends. Even after so long. It's faded a little, but it's still there. It still feels wrong. Dead wrong.