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Tinsel and Terriers, A Novella

Page 7

by Cressida McLaughlin


  ‘Hey,’ Joe said, suddenly beside her. ‘Hey, come on. There’s nothing more you could have done.’ His gentle, solid voice was instantly comforting. She nodded but didn’t sit up, wishing she could hide in the dark space behind her hands and listen to him forever.

  But then a door opened and a man cleared his voice. ‘Mrs Willows? I understand Chalky is your dog.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  Cat heard the tremor in the older woman’s voice. She sat up and blinked at the tall, greying vet.

  ‘How is he?’ Elsie continued.

  ‘He’s very sick,’ the vet admitted. ‘He’s suffering from acute pancreatitis. His pancreas is inflamed, and so it isn’t working properly.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ Cat murmured. ‘Is he going to be all right?’

  The vet gave them a hesitant smile. ‘I’m afraid I can’t answer that just yet. We’ll need to keep him in. We have to withhold food and water, reintroduce it slowly, help settle the pancreas down. If that goes well over the next seventy-two hours, and with a few changes to his diet, then he does stand a chance of making a good recovery.’

  ‘But he might not?’ Elsie asked.

  ‘We really have to wait and see how he responds to treatment. At this point, I can’t guarantee anything.’

  Elsie sighed and pressed her face into Disco’s neck. ‘I understand. I can’t see him?’

  The vet shook his head. ‘Not now, I’m afraid. We’ll call you first thing in the morning to update you on his progress, and I can assure you he’s in the best hands. You should go home and get some rest.’

  Elsie nodded, and Cat could see that her hands were shaking. The vet left them, and a moment later Polly came out of the treatment room. ‘Did he tell you?’

  Cat nodded. ‘It sounds bad, but he – he could still recover.’

  ‘We’re doing everything we can,’ Polly said. ‘Elsie, we’re looking after him for you.’

  ‘I know, my love,’ Elsie said. ‘I know.’

  ‘I’ll take you back.’ Joe stood and waited while Elsie put Disco on the floor and walked out of the surgery, her head held high as always.

  Cat heaved herself up, her limbs stiff from hours sitting motionless, and hugged Polly. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. She couldn’t believe how calm Elsie was being, how much she was holding it together.

  ‘You should go home, Cat,’ Polly said. ‘You look exhausted. I’m going to stay here with him.’

  Cat climbed into the back of the Fiesta and sank into the seat. Nobody spoke on the journey home, and when Joe pulled up outside Elsie’s house, she got quickly out.

  ‘Elsie,’ Cat fumbled for the door handle and followed her. ‘Let me come in, let me make you some food.’

  Elsie put her arms round Cat. It was something she rarely did, usually offering a quick hand-pat or an arm-squeeze, and Cat was taken aback. ‘I’m just going to go in and be quiet, Cat. You’ve been amazing today, looking after my lovely old boy. There is nobody I would rather he’d been with, and if he survives now, if he pulls through, it’ll be down to you.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be alone,’ Cat said.

  ‘I’m not.’ Elsie smiled down at Disco, still quiet and uncertain at her owner’s feet.

  ‘Are you sure I can’t—’

  ‘Tomorrow,’ Elsie said. ‘Come and see me tomorrow.’ She gave her arm a squeeze, the familiar gesture forcing a smile out of Cat. She watched as the older woman climbed the stairs and went inside, for once looking every bit her age.

  ‘Come on,’ Joe said. ‘Let Elsie deal with this in her own way. You’ve had a shock, and you’re freezing.’

  ‘You’re back,’ she murmured.

  He gave her a quick, tired smile. ‘I am.’

  ‘It’s not the best homecoming.’ Cat squeezed her hands under her elbows, trying to stop them shaking.

  ‘God, Cat. I wasn’t expecting balloons and party-poppers. Just come inside, get warm.’

  ‘Did you have a good time?’

  Joe nodded and took her arm, and, despite everything, she felt a spark at his touch. She let him lead her up the stairs of number nine, drinking him in, weary happiness rushing through her at his closeness, reminding her how much she’d missed him.

  He glanced at her. ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she murmured.

  ‘You’re staring at me.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re back.’

  He frowned and stood in front of her. Slowly, he undid her coat buttons, not meeting her eye, concentrating on his fingers as if it was the most difficult task in the world. Cat’s breath stalled in her throat. He slipped her coat off her shoulders, walked her to the sofa and lowered her gently onto it.

  ‘You’re trembling,’ he said quietly.

  ‘I’m alright.’ Cat swallowed, waiting for her heart to slow down. ‘It’s Chalky that’s lying on the vet’s table, being poked and prodded and manhandled.’ She closed her eyes, her emotions seesawing between happiness at Joe’s return and despair over Chalky.

  ‘Hey,’ Joe said. ‘Hey, it’s OK. The vet will look after him, Polly’s there, and so is Leyla. You just need to rest now, let them deal with it.’ Cat felt a warmth surround her and realized he’d put a blanket round her shoulders. She turned to face him, looking straight into his serious blue eyes.

  She inhaled, shakily. ‘Joe.’

  ‘Cup of tea?’ He gave her a quick smile and went into the kitchen. Cat wrapped the blanket tighter around her, pulled her feet up and closed her eyes.

  Joe was back. Chalky was gravely ill, close to death, but surely, surely he would get better. Everything had to be all right now that Joe was home.

  *

  She was woken by a cold, wet nose pressing against her cheek, and for a second she thought it was Chalky. She opened her eyes. Shed was sitting next to her on the sofa, purring loudly, his face close to hers. The light was artificial, and Cat saw that beyond the open curtains, beyond the rainbow glow of the Christmas tree, the winter night had already arrived.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Joe was sitting on the sofa opposite her, an empty beer bottle on the table, a magazine closed on his lap.

  ‘OK, I guess.’ Cat rubbed her forehead and sat up. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘It’s nearly five pm. In Fairview, anyway. I’ve no idea what time it is inside my head.’ He sat forward, discarding the magazine, his elbows on his knees.

  ‘Bad jetlag?’

  Joe nodded. ‘As if I’ve been hit by a bus. But it’ll pass.’

  ‘But your trip was as good as you thought it would be?’

  ‘Yeah, it was great, thanks. Just what I needed.’

  ‘The course?’

  ‘And the break. A holiday away from here, away from everything.’ He frowned, shook his head quickly. ‘Now, how are you really feeling?’

  Cat couldn’t look at him. She felt worn out, and her emotions were in a tangle, the news about Mark’s wife overshadowed by Chalky and now, Joe’s return. She sighed.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ Joe said softly. ‘But you have to try and stop worrying, even for a few hours.’

  ‘What if it’s my fault?’ Cat stroked Shed’s fuzzy ginger fur. ‘What if I could have noticed earlier, got him to the vet’s sooner? I was so preoccupied, I—’ She could hardly believe Jessica’s bombshell had been earlier that day; it had paled into insignificance. ‘What if Chalky dies?’

  ‘Listen to me,’ Joe said calmly, coming to sit beside her. ‘You have done everything. You have looked after Chalky, treated him as your own, loved him. You have been the best walker and friend that lovely old dog could have hoped for. The vet thinks he can pull through, and I’ve met Chalky, he’s a dude, he’s stubborn. I’m sure he will. But,’ he continued, his voice dropping, ‘if it’s time for him to go, if he doesn’t survive this, then you will get through it, believe me. You’ve got me and Polly and Disco. You and Elsie will look after each other, and it’ll be hard, you’ll struggle. You might find it difficult walking other
dogs, being reminded of him. But Chalky will always be a part of your life. You’ll always have your memories.’

  Cat stared at Joe, her eyes stinging with tears. His face was unsmiling but full of compassion, and his words were making her head swim.

  ‘You know,’ she murmured. ‘You know what it’s like.’

  Joe inhaled, nodded gently. ‘I know.’

  Cat felt shock and realization engulf her. ‘You had a dog,’ she whispered. ‘You lost a dog. It’s why you won’t – you haven’t let me—’ She swallowed. ‘Tell me.’

  Joe ran his hand through his hair. ‘I had a chocolate Labrador called Truffle. I – we got him as a puppy, just over three years ago. He’s ridiculous, really. A huge, soppy thing, friends with everyone. Never chewed a shoe in his life, but collected the post, hid it in his basket. Ran for miles. A proper fire-and-slippers dog.’

  Cat tried to take it in. Joe didn’t hate dogs at all. He’d had one, one he had clearly loved. All this time, and Cat hadn’t guessed. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Rosalin took him. I tried to fight. I fought harder than anything else for Truffle, to keep him here with me. Can you get custody of a dog? I don’t know, but I—’ he rubbed his jaw and Cat could see the pain in his eyes, could see how hard it was for him to tell her. But he kept looking at her. ‘In the end I couldn’t, I was so—’ he shook his head. ‘After what they’d done I – I couldn’t deal with any more angry phone calls. I let them take him, I gave up on him.’

  ‘Oh my God, Joe.’ Cat thought of her confusion at the Pooches’ Picnic, when he’d been so friendly with Chips. She thought of the occasions Joe and Polly had skirted round the subject, trying to tell her something but not quite managing it. The lead and tennis ball she’d found in the cupboard under the stairs. ‘You had a dog, and you never told me.’ She wasn’t accusing, she just felt upended.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said. ‘I was so down after it happened. And you came along, you cheered me up, you were warm and funny, so kind. But then the whole dog-walking thing brought it all back. I just – I knew that if you found out about Truffle, you’d try and fix it. You’d come up with a plan to get him back, or get me a new dog. I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to try and forget everything. I was still too hurt.’

  ‘Heartbroken,’ Cat said.

  Joe nodded, shrugging. ‘And I asked Polly not to say anything either.’

  ‘Because I interfere,’ Cat said. ‘And I would have made it worse.’ Cat closed her eyes, remembering all the times she’d come up with some hair-brained scheme, and Joe had challenged her, reminding her to look at the bigger picture, the effects of her actions. Of course he hadn’t told her about this – it was too much of a risk to confide in her.

  ‘But you always have good intentions. Look what happened with Frankie, with the Barkers, with the cove. I trust you, Cat, but back then I just needed to try and move on from the whole thing. And then, once I started to feel better, it just – it seemed so hard to tell you after I’d kept it from you for so long. There was never a good time. Polly feels the same – she hates me for making her hide this from you. But I just wanted to start again.’

  ‘With a big grumpy cat?’

  Joe smiled. ‘Shed was a rebellion against everything that had happened. He seemed the ideal companion for me then – grumpy, claws out. He’s growing on me, though.’

  ‘Me too,’ Cat admitted, stroking Shed, who was still curled up next to her. ‘I think he’s mellowing along with his owner. Wow,’ she whispered. ‘Joe Sinclair, dog lover.’

  ‘And occasional idiot. I’m so sorry, Cat, for keeping it from you.’

  Cat tried to look away, but she thought she might stay lost in Joe’s blue eyes for ever. ‘I think I’m beginning to realize that the more curious I am, the more people are likely to hold things back from me.’ She thought of Mark and the secret he’d hidden from her the whole time they were together.

  Joe winced. ‘Cat, that’s really not—’

  ‘I’m not upset.’

  ‘You’re not?’

  ‘You love dogs,’ she said, her voice shaky. ‘There’s no rule that says the moment you move in with someone you have to know everything about them. And you’ve told me now. You’ve helped me so much, Joe, with the Pooches’ Picnic, the protest. And now I know that you were getting over losing your own dog while I was throwing them at you, talking about nothing else, it makes everything you did even more significant.’

  ‘Yeah, well.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘Your ideas were ambitious, you needed help. It wasn’t just me, anyway. There was Polly, Elsie, Jessica. Most of those things were a joint effort.’

  ‘True,’ Cat said quietly, her stomach churning, suddenly uneasy. ‘Jessica said she got in touch with you while you were away, about some new work?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Joe said, frowning slightly. ‘She wants a whole new rebrand, for her website, marketing, personal stationery. It’s a big contract, and she’s determined to get me to do it.’

  ‘You have just spent the last few weeks honing your skills.’

  ‘I have. She’s very chatty, on email at least.’

  ‘She’s a bubbly person,’ Cat admitted, her heart sinking.

  ‘Well I don’t really know her that well,’ Joe said, catching her eye and then looking quickly away. ‘But I’ll nip down and see her later, organize a proper debriefing for this work.’

  Cat wondered what else Jessica would want to debrief him on. She thought of her insistence that she had to get mistletoe for her party. By then, it might not be necessary. Joe had kissed her at the last one, after all, and if they were going to be working closely on the rebrand of ‘Jessica Heybourne’, then…

  ‘Shall we have some food?’ Joe asked, cutting into her thoughts. ‘I’m starving.’

  Cat realized she hadn’t had any lunch, her stomach growling now the shock of Chalky’s collapse was lessening in Joe’s company. ‘How about a Thai takeaway? We could find a film to take our mind off things.’

  ‘Good plan,’ Joe said. ‘I’ll get the menu.’

  When Cat woke, the room was in darkness save for the pulsing lights on the tree. Her neck was stiff, and the right side of her body was warm, the sound of breathing close by. She shifted, her legs suddenly cold as a furry lump jumped off them and onto the floor. Shed. She blinked, growing accustomed to the gloom, and realized she was still in the living room.

  The television was off but the DVD player was still on, winking at her. She jumped as the front door closed, and then suddenly the living room was bathed in light. Cat tried to sit up, feeling weighted down and sluggish, staring at Polly as she took her coat off, her green scrubs still on underneath.

  ‘What time is it?’ Cat asked, and it was Polly’s turn to jump.

  ‘Shit! Sorry, Cat, I had no idea you’d be in here. I thought you’d be in bed.’ Polly gave her a watery smile, her eyes widening as she took in the whole scene, a scene that Cat hadn’t fully grasped in her half-asleep state. She was on the sofa, fully clothed, and Joe, still asleep, was lying against her, his head on her shoulder. They were both under the blanket. Cat gave an involuntary shudder.

  ‘Has my brother been looking after you?’ Polly asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

  Cat could only nod. ‘We were watching Prince of Thieves, but I guess with Joe’s jetlag, and…we must have drifted off. What time is it?’ she asked again.

  ‘Just after six,’ Polly said, the sleigh bells jingling as she came into the room and sat on the sofa opposite.

  ‘In the morning?’ Cat squealed. Joe shifted beside her, groaned and opened his eyes.

  ‘Morning jet-setter,’ Polly said.

  ‘Hmmm?’ Joe lifted his head off Cat’s shoulder and sat up quickly, dislodging the blanket. Cold air wrapped itself around her, replacing the warmth of Joe’s body. He stared at her, and then at his sister. He looked as bemused as Cat felt. ‘What’s going on? I heard sleigh bells. It’s not Christmas, is it?’

  ‘I staye
d at work,’ Polly said. ‘I – I couldn’t leave Chalky. I wanted to stay with him, to see if he—’ Her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘If he made it through the night.’

  Cat froze and she heard Joe’s intake of breath. They stared at Polly.

  ‘A-and did he?’ Cat asked. ‘Did he make it through?’

  Chalky was hanging on.

  Cat accompanied Elsie to the vet’s as often as she wanted to go, though Cat found it hard to look at the loving, loyal mini schnauzer so weak and unresponsive. She couldn’t imagine how Elsie was coping. Polly did extra shifts, keeping a close eye on him, her brows often knitted together when she returned home, the shadow of worry not quite leaving her face.

  Cat frequently went with Elsie and Disco to the park, walking slowly despite the bitter cold, the grey sky heavy with winter. They didn’t say much, but threw a stick for Disco, laughing at her antics, their levity forced but their love and appreciation for the younger dog heightened, aware that she, too, must be feeling Chalky’s continued absence.

  But while part of their lives was on hold, all around Fairview, Christmas had taken over. Christmas trees and light displays winked at them from every house, festive songs filtered out of shops and cafés, groups of school children burst into loud, tuneless song, carol singers door-knocked and filled the air with ‘Silent Night’ and ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’. Cat couldn’t help but be swept up in the good cheer and excitement of the festive season.

  Polly and Owen were always together, the ice cream expert now a semi-permanent fixture at number nine, bringing different lights with him every time he came, trying new combinations, searching the web for inspiration. He and Joe spent hours at the large Mac in Joe’s office, trying to come up with the perfect display, leaving Polly and Cat to keep an eye on Shed and Rummy’s tentative truce downstairs.

  And of course there was Joe. Joe who was back in Primrose Terrace, in his rightful place, wearing his winter hoodies. They’d settled back into an easy rhythm, as if he hadn’t been away, and as if he hadn’t called her his muse in the back of a van filled with surfboards. She knew he’d been spending a lot of time with Jessica, and had seen his designs in sketchbooks on the coffee table, most of them as striking and glamorous as she was. She tried not to read anything into it, but she couldn’t blame Joe if he’d decided to move on.

 

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