The Dog Sitter: The new feel-good romantic comedy of 2021 from the bestselling author of The Wedding Date!

by Zara Stoneley

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You could have talent—’

  ‘I do have talent!’

  ‘If you’d let yourself be directed. You can do cutting edge, you were doing, and not this, this!’ He’s spluttering. ‘This is like a bloody school project.’

  ‘Well, Ash likes it!’ Shit. Why did I say that?

  ‘Ash?’ He frowns. ‘Ah, I get it, the musclebound goon outside!’ He’s got a glint in his eye, the one that says he’s ready to move in for the kill. ‘And there was I thinking he was just the hired help.’ His gaze wanders again, then stops. Bugger, Ash’s hoodie. I’d forgotten about that! He put it down when he was looking at the picture. ‘Good God, Becky, you have let your standards slip. Though I always suspected you liked a bit of rough. A rugged hero, like all the ones in those mind-numbing films you insist on watching.’ He’s got a nasty sneer lurking at the side of his mouth.

  It is my turn to splutter. And blush.

  ‘He is not musclebound, he’s just fit!’ Boy is it hot in here. ‘Which you wouldn’t know anything about!’ Teddy did join a gym once, but he’s more the measured type. Lightly toned to maintain the sleek, long lines that look good in his Mediterranean-style, incredibly slim-fit trousers. They wouldn’t get past Ash’s ankles.

  His eyes narrow. ‘And he seemed more interested in that bloody silly dog than he was in you, you fool!’ He stops talking, half smiles and bestows upon me his best patronising look. ‘Your new boyfriend likes rubbish like this—’ he gestures lazily with a hand, thinking he’s on a winning streak ‘—because he is not sophisticated, not clever, not refined. He has simple tastes, he really isn’t smart enough for somebody like you, Becky. You need a man of the world, a man with vision so you can make the best of yourself.’

  How dare he call Ash thick!

  ‘Get out.’

  ‘Pardon?’ He looks at me blankly.

  ‘Out!’ I stamp one foot forward and he actually jumps. ‘Out, out, out.’ I’m getting into this, and so is Bella, who leaps up and starts to bark. I don’t think she’s quite sure what we’re doing, but she’s on my side. Teddy steps nervously towards the patio doors. It makes me feel brilliant, power crazy, slightly mad! I grab the nearest thing to hand and wave it, and he scoots – straight out of the doors.

  ‘You’re mad! Call me when you’ve calmed down, you’ll regret this.’ His voice is shaky, and he’s backing away as he talks.

  ‘I am never going to call you!’ I bellow. Calling him, even if this all goes wrong and my Mischief illustrations come to nothing, would be the coward’s way out. The easy option. I’m better than that. I’ve told Georgina she should be brave and walk away from her old life – well, that’s exactly what I need to do.

  And it’s not just Ash who thinks I have the ability, it’s David, it’s the people who thought my draft sketches of Mischief were ‘awesome’. And, most importantly, I think I do.

  Teddy stumbles across the lawn and I stare at what I’ve picked up to wave at him. Bloody hell, I’ve been brandishing a fire poker! No wonder he ran for it.

  But wow, that felt good. Standing up for myself.

  Reaction hits as I drop the poker and sink down on the floor, and Bella clambers on me, licks my hand then curls up half on and half off my legs.

  There is something very worrying about my reaction. Not the fire poker – he deserved that, he’s had it coming for a while.

  What worries me is that I didn’t throw him out when he criticised me, or my work… No, I threw him out when he criticised Ash.

  Shit.

  I bury my face in Bella’s fur and feel like crying. ‘Oh Bella, I’m screwed, aren’t I?’ She licks my nose. ‘And so are you, you can’t have him either.’ I lean back against the chair and stroke her. It is quite therapeutic. Calming. It drags me out of my self-pity party.

  Oh, I really do need to stop thinking about Ash though. I’ll be going home soon. All this will be over. I’ll never see him again.

  I will see Teddy though, unless I actually move away from my flat for good. I live far too close to him for comfort.

  Why did he come all this way?

  This is about him, his career. It has to be. Everything always is about Teddy.

  I glance over at the Mischief pictures. I’m sure my instincts are right, I’m sure the pictures are what has really annoyed him. He couldn’t stop looking at them.

  The answer will be on the internet, it always is. The screen of my mobile phone lights up and I start to type.

  And I find Rosie.

  And then I know.

  I can’t help but smile as I lean my head back and stare up at the ceiling.

  This is Teddy all over. Talk about a woman scorned, they’ve got nothing on Teddy – who always has to come out on top. I remember him talking, or should that be ranting, about Rosie. And giving her the cold shoulder at parties.

  Rosie was once his wonderchild, his protégée. And his lover for a while – I’d say girlfriend, but I think it was looser than that. Looser than even we had been. Teddy is a user, not a boyfriend.

  Then Rosie left the publisher they worked for and went somewhere else – as an agent. She signed some MEGA books and made some MEGA connections. People love her.

  I guess, like me, she realised that Teddy was too much of a driving force, that he wasn’t letting her make her own decisions. Even though her instinct was good. So, she went out and proved him wrong.

  She also signed the author of the Mischief books – with a rival publisher that Teddy had aspired to but had never managed to crack. He particularly hated the commissioning editor who had climbed the ladder way quicker than he had.

  This isn’t about me not doing the work for Ben (although I’m sure he has some deal going on there); no, it’s about a rival, about his pride, and let’s face it, about the bottom line financially. Every deal somebody else gets means a deal he’s lost. In his eyes at least.

  And I, his pawn, have betrayed him. I’ve signed up for the other side.

  The publishing world is small, and he’d heard, and it had wound him up so much he had to track me down and check whether it was true for himself.

  Fucking hell, it must be exhausting living like that.

  ‘Fancy a stroll, Bella?’

  She wags her tail feebly. ‘Ah, too much party fun? Bloody hell, I’ve just remembered. Ash never gave you your present!’ He also never picked up his hoodie.

  I dither for a bit, then decide to text him.

  Fun party – didn’t know dog parties were a thing! Wondered if you wanted to pop by with Bella’s present? B x

  I dither even more about adding the kiss. Is one too many, or not enough? We’ve shared real lip action – but never on a text. In fact, we’ve hardly shared any texts at all. And he just let my ex in, then I told him to go home. Help. What will he think? Should I have added more kisses? Or should I call him?

  I call him. There’s no answer, and leaving a message seems desperate and clingy, when I’ve just texted. I have to leave it.

  It is then that I remember all the messages from Teddy and Ben. I delete the ones from Teddy without reading them.

  Ben’s is in his usual style, simple, to the point. He said I’d aced the amendments (I send Teddy a two-fingered salute in my head), would love to work with me in the future if I was willing (not sure on that one, but wow, he still likes my stuff!) and said we could chat, and warned me that Teddy was on the warpath and heading my way. And apologised that he might have let slip where I was.

  Shit, if it hadn’t been for the dog party, I’d have read that. I’d have been warned, been ready.

  Except, would it really have made any difference?

  Probably not.

  I feel exhausted, but relieved that at least that is one mystery solved. I know how Teddy found me.

  I text him back, promising to get in touch once my backlog has cleared.

  I like Ben. I just need to be working with him independently – not with Teddy bleating in the background.


  Then I sit down at my desk, finish off the Mischief cover and email the publisher.

  And pour a very large gin and tonic.

  And try not to be bothered that Ash hasn’t responded to my text.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘We’ll go for a long walk soon, okay?’ The cover art I’d finished for the Mischief books the day of the party was given an immediate thumbs-up, and I’m now trying to get ahead of the game with the illustrations. I’d forgotten how much I love doing the kind of line drawings they’ve asked for. It’s the simplicity, the artistic lines that allow me to get into the rhythm in a way I never can with paint. Once I start it’s hard to break away – but Bella does need a walk.

  The patio doors are wide open and there’s a gentle breeze blowing in today. It’s much more refreshing than the last few days when we’ve had wall-to-wall sunshine, and heavy stifling air which has left her dozing in the shade.

  It’s been perfect for work though. I’ve even let go of all my inhibitions about feeling silly and clichéd and made a jug of Pimm’s and sat on the patio sipping an ice-cold drink and sketching.

  I’m sure Bella will enjoy a potter and sniff in the woods today though, and we both need a break and good walk. I, for one, have to lay off the Pimm’s. It’s addictive and telling myself it’s just a fruity drink can only work for so long when I’m downing it by the jugful and feeling so tipsy I’m giggling at the TV each evening. Even when there’s only a period drama or the news on.

  ‘I might even let you have a dip in the lake if you’re good!’

  I sit up straighter and stretch my back, then lean forward, chin on my hands, and look out at the incredible view.

  I’m going to miss this place so much. I’ve already absent-mindedly searched through the local estate agent websites though, and the prices are way outside my current budget. But I could do another house-sit. I’m sure there must be other places in the area, even holiday homes that people would like to have occupied out of season.

  Except it is still season, so I’d have to wait a while.

  ‘Oh, come on, Bella. I’ve got lots of time to do these, let’s go!’ It’s not too hot for her, and why am I wasting the opportunity to get out? I can work this evening. I can work all hours when I have to pack my bags and go back to my old boring life and street views. The forecast says that the weather could break tomorrow, and if it’s cloudy the views will be nowhere near as spectacular. ‘We’ll go on one of those long walks in a couple of days, when it isn’t so hot.’ Bella wags her tail and trots into the kitchen, waiting for me to catch up, before she heads to where her lead and harness are kept.

  She’s good company. I can see why Ash misses her. At first, I have to admit, I did find her hard work, but she’s a creature of habit. She likes her routine, and we just had to work one out that would suit both of us. And we have.

  Or rather, she’s trained me so that I stick to hers. And made sure I provide enough treats and chews so that she doesn’t have to steal socks to make her point. She is still exceedingly bossy, and has to have the last word, but it’s quite cute. As long as you don’t try and beat her at her own game.

  In return she’s been a better best friend and more patient co-worker than any person has ever been. She never, okay hardly ever, wanders off when I’m talking to her and never judges. Even when I jump into bed with the man of her heart. The man of her dreams might have four legs, but Ash has her heart.

  My phone rings, just as I’m pulling my shoes on, and I end up on my hands and knees as I scrabble in my back pocket to get it before whoever it is rings off.

  Just in case ‘whoever’ is the person Bella and I are pining for.

  I roll over onto my back, Bella peering down her nose at me. She looks funny, all big nose and eyebrows.

  It is Mum.

  ‘You sound quite chirpy, dear!’

  ‘I’m laughing at Bella!’

  ‘See, I told you a dog was a better idea than a man! I know how much you love them. But you just sound more your old self!’

  I think I am, sorry I know I am. Since I arrived here, I have been shedding my old skin, like a snake does but more slowly. I have cast off Teddy and his aspirations for me and I’m sure that’s why I feel so much lighter when I start work each day. I actually want to do it.

  There’s not been a single morning lately when I’ve woken up and just wanted to stay in bed, and thought ‘fuck, I’ve got to work’.

  I don’t say all that though, she’d think I was going bonkers and insist on sending a rescue party. ‘I love it here, it’s even better than I thought it would be.’

  ‘We used to love taking you and the other two there.’ There’s a comfortable silence while we both think about those trips. Bella shuffles a bit closer so that she’s practically breathing the same air that I am.

  ‘Bleurgh!’ I push her away a bit, and she leans against my hand.

  ‘It wasn’t bleurgh!’

  ‘No, I know!’ I laugh, and Mum chuckles back. ‘It’s Bella, she’s practically kissing me, the daft dog.’ It’s nice to hear my mum’s laughter. When I was little, we laughed together a lot; we seem to have lost that. It’s sad, but I guess that’s what growing up is about. You push your parents away a bit, want to be independent, but then reach a stage in your life when you want them back. Maybe it means I actually am more content. I do know what I want and I’m realising she can’t threaten that.

  When I go home, I should go and see her more. Do girl stuff together.

  ‘I wonder if that gingerbread is as wonderful as we remember?’ She sounds wistful. It’s nice sharing memories.

  ‘Oh, it is, it’s amazing! Even better than I thought.’

  ‘I do need to try it again sometime. Actually, I’ve just had a thought.’ Sounds dangerous. ‘We can come and see you! A day out would be lovely, your dad and I hardly ever do that these days. Yes, yes, we will.’

  ‘Er…’ I was thinking I’d work up to ‘girl stuff’ gradually.

  ‘That’s a brilliant idea, why didn’t I think of it sooner! We’ll all come.’

  ‘All?’ I stare at Bella, mild panic setting in. She stares back, tries to lick my nose.

  ‘I’ll ask Abby.’

  ‘Abby? Why would—’

  ‘And Ed! It can be like an engagement party, but in Cumbria! That’s a much better idea than waiting until you come home. Oh, doesn’t that sound perfect? We can picnic on your lawn. I’ll ask Daniel as well, though you know how busy he gets. This is fabulous! I can bring the food, you’ve no need to worry about that.’

  Oh. My. God. No. I look at Bella in horror and she pulls back, alarmed on my behalf. ‘But Mum—’

  ‘Wonderful! How about Saturday?’ Saturday? Saturday! What’s got into the woman. ‘I’ll check with the others, and the forecast. Oh, before I go, did I tell you Teddy got in touch? He was being sneaky, trying to find out where you were. I told him to email you and you could tell him yourself if you wanted him to know! Honestly, the cheek. He did block me on Facebook, you know!’ I don’t think she’s going to forgive and forget that one for a while. My mother can bear a grudge splendidly.

  Am I angry? I suddenly realise I’m not. I don’t care about Teddy and his underhand ways. I don’t care about Teddy full stop. He is irrelevant.

  ‘Right, I’ll let you get on. I’ll call Abby and ring you back tonight. Isn’t this lovely?’

  Absolutely.

  ‘Oh, and she’s got more news to share! It was a bit of a shock, but I’m sure we’ll all get used to it in time.’

  Let her be pregnant, please let her be pregnant. I have my fingers crossed, which is mean. But Abby is so bloody perfect. If she cocked up just once, just one time, then it would be the perfect time to slip in my new career plans.

  ‘Ed has been promoted and of course Abby has—’ of course she has ‘—so they’re moving. It is a move up, I mean it’s a lovely house, but we won’t be able to just pop in like we can now!’ I wonder if this is why the
y’re moving?

  ‘Are they going far?’

  ‘Only to Tappleton, they’re buying one of those wonderful cottages on the green. Isn’t that amazing? You always liked those, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yup.’ Of course they are. They are moving to one of those idyllic cottages that I spent my early years lusting after but will never be able to afford.

  For me, living in Tappleton is as unlikely as getting a place here.

  Now is maybe not the time to come clean about the fact that I have stepped away from my links with a major publisher and practically guaranteed bestsellers, and instead am putting all my efforts into a Magic Pony who might, or might not, be the next big thing. And a Cumbrian village art shop.

  Telling Mum might feel impossible right now, but I have to believe this is the right thing to do. For me.

  It is much cooler in the dappled shade of the trees down by the lake, in the spot next to where the boathouse used to be.

  There is nobody else in sight, which is amazing considering I’m in Cumbria in the middle of summer. But that’s the wonderful thing about this house. It’s within walking distance of the village, but you could just as well be in the middle of nowhere.

  I’ve forgotten Bella’s long lead, but she’s quite happy pottering around at my feet, especially when she discovers I’ve got a makeshift picnic.

  For a couple of hours I am not going to work, I am not going to look at my phone (apart from to take photos), I am not going to think about my entire family gate-crashing this idyll (difficult), I am not going to think about Georgina (tricky), or Ash (trickier still), I am not even going to sketch. I am not going to do anything but chill and eat my picnic and drink my can of ready mixed gin and tonic.

  ‘Don’t you dare!’ Bella is eyeing up the food as I unpack it.

  This isn’t a posh picnic; this is a last-minute raid-the-fridge type of picnic. I really do need to go shopping – the trouble is when I’m in full flow workwise I tend to forget stuff like that. Which is fine when you’ve got an open-all-hours shop two minutes away, less fine when you’re a few miles from a very basic store and lots of miles from a proper supermarket. Still, I call this a success. I have dips, some carrot sticks cut from carrots that were going slightly floppy but not at all mouldy, some rolled-up slices of ham, a chunk of cheese (that was going mouldy, but I cut the green bits off), and two sausage rolls that I have cut into mini slices so that they look daintier and the drying pastry isn’t quite as noticeable.