by Matt Haig
‘Come on, come on.’ But it was no good.
All that pulling and yanking and tugging and still no difference.
He moved over to his bed, with his trousers and boxer shorts still around his ankles. When he got there, to the bed, he slumped down and looked mournfully at his wilting penis. And then at the pile of textbooks on his desk.
Poor Hal, poor poor Hal.
I stood up and wagged my tail in an attempt to cheer him up. It had no visible effect. I tilted my head. A smile arrived on his face but then, realising it had come to the wrong place, disappeared. Looking back down, Hal let out another sigh. And this one lasted longer, causing his lips to flap. In fact, the sigh lasted so long that I thought that maybe this was not all about the size of his penis.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
I worried for him, I really did. I looked into his eyes and I saw trouble. He was too fragile, still too much of a pup.
‘What are you looking at?’ he asked me, mock-tough.
I told him, in my own way, that I was looking at his future and that he could take control of it, that he could make everything all right. As always, he refused to listen.
‘Prince,’ he said, ‘Princey boy.’ He then leaned back against the wall, pushed his face behind the blind and looked outside the window. It was starting to rain.
marriage
Later on, the doorbell rang.
Adam was at a governors’ meeting. Hal and Charlotte and Grandma Margaret were all upstairs, in their separate worlds. And at the time, Kate was on all fours, trying to pick up stray strands of Labrador hair from the carpet. ‘You really are a messy dog,’ she had told me, with mock-severity. ‘You really are.’
She struggled and groaned herself upright, back to a human position, and went to answer the door. This took her quite a while owing to the fact that Hal had pulled the doorknob off last weekend and nobody had put it back on properly. The house, as Adam had shouted at the time, was falling to pieces.
When the door opened, the first thing I heard was the sound of Kate gasping for air.
The second thing I heard was: ‘Waah-hey, madwag. What a sniff palace!’ It was Falstaff, burying his nose in the sweet-smelling bush in the front garden.
I looked further up, and left, to see Simon’s smiling face, blocking out the sun.
‘It’s been a long time, Kate,’ he said, thrusting forward a bouquet of flowers.
‘Oh my God. Simon.’ Before taking the flowers, Kate had to empty her hands of dog hair and doorknob – both of which were placed on the side cabinet.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked Falstaff.
He looked up, cocked his leg, and started to piss aimlessly on the small garden path. ‘Your guess, madwag, is as good as mine.’
Simon’s eyes leisurely soaked in the sight before him. ‘You really are a beautiful woman, Kate. As beautiful as I remembered.’
‘I, um, hear you’ve just moved, to the house on the park,’ she said, ignoring the compliment.
‘Yes. I had to admit defeat – London was killing me. It’s funny though, isn’t it? How life moves in circles, even when you expect it to go in a straight line?’ He leant over me, roughly patting my head. ‘We’re all like you, aren’t we, chasing our own tails?’
‘You? Admit defeat?’
‘I know, hard to believe, eh?’
‘And I hear you’re married,’ she said, her attempt at cool belied by the crack in her voice.
‘Oh, Emily. Adam told you about her?’ he asked, surprised.
‘Yes. Of course.’
‘Well, yes. Married, but only in the loosest sense of the word.’
‘I didn’t even know there was one.’
‘Sorry. One what?’
‘A loose sense. For marriage.’
Simon smiled at her wisely. ‘Ooh, but Kate, I’m sure you do.’
I looked through his legs at Falstaff, who was now burrowing for stronger smells. Simon tugged his lead and brought him to heel.
‘I don’t know, madwag. You can’t get away with anything nowadays, can you?’
But I wasn’t going to be drawn into one of his completely pointless conversations. Not today. I was too busy paying attention to our masters. Trying to sniff for clues. Trying to make some sort of sense. I didn’t know what to think. The air was complicated. Too many smells. Too much contradictory information.
‘Did you want anything in particular?’ asked Kate.
‘Oh Kate, you minx, don’t tempt me.’ His wink went unreciprocated. ‘Well, OK, no. Only to see you, you know, say hello. And to ask if we should bring anything to the barbecue?’
Kate paused, thoughtful, then said: ‘About the barbecue –’ But before she had time to finish, she noticed Adam’s car turning into the road.
Simon smiled and turned, his free hand shielding the sun. The smile baffled Kate, who quickly placed the bunch of flowers alongside the doorknob and the dog hair.
As Falstaff started to sniff Kate’s shoeless feet, the rest of us watched Adam choke the battered vehicle back and forth in an attempt to park.
‘Simon,’ said Adam, dropping his keys on the way out of the car. ‘What can we do you for?’
‘Hey, Adam. Now that’s a tie.’
‘You like it?’
‘Yes. It’s really . . . wacky.’ When he said this last word he winked again at Kate. Only this wink was different, more complex. A wink which seemed to contain the memory of a shared joke. A cruel joke and, judging from her scent, one which Kate no longer found funny.
‘How was it?’ Kate asked.
‘I don’t know, whoever suggested Saturday would be the perfect day for a governors’ meeting! It was pretty depressing, actually,’ said Adam, sidestepping Falstaff’s frothy pool of piss. ‘We were running through the checking procedure, for members of staff.’
‘Checking procedure?’ Simon raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
‘Yeah. With all those recent abduction cases, they’re starting to make the schools do more to protect the children. Even drag us in on weekends.’
‘Oh, that’s right, I saw about it on the news. Terrible.’ He pulled Falstaff away from Kate’s feet. ‘You can’t imagine anything worse, can you, than losing a child.’
‘Simon just came round to ask if he should bring anything to the barbecue tomorrow,’ said Kate, trying to change the subject.
‘Oh right,’ said Adam. ‘Do we need any salads doing?’
Kate shook her head.
Falstaff looked at me, and sighed. ‘I don’t know how you keep it up, madwag, I really don’t.’
‘Keep what up?’
But before he had time to answer, Simon yanked his lead and said: ‘Anyway, should go. See you tomorrow.’ He stopped at the gate, and slouched an arm over the bars, ‘We’ll be looking forward to it.’
And with that last, fatal wink he went on his way, dragging Falstaff behind him. I looked at Adam, at Kate. They had both lost colour. They had both gained scent.
And then another thought, of more immediate consequence.
The flowers.
I had forgotten all about them.
‘Did Simon bring these round?’
‘Um, yes,’ Kate flustered. ‘Yes, he did.’
Adam was going to push further so I distracted him by jumping up and placing my front paws on his chest.
‘No, boy, down. Go on, Prince, down you go.’
Kate picked the flowers up. ‘I’d better get rid of them. My hay fever’s come back.’
She went through the kitchen, opened the back door, and placed them in the outside bin in the passage. I watched through the patio doors as she did so, closing the lid with remorse. As if there was something else she wanted to take out and throw away but couldn’t. Something which wouldn’t let go.
leaking
Looking back now, it is hard to remember what I was feeling. Until that point, the situation had been simple. All I’d had to do was keep track of Adam and Emily, and make sure t
hings didn’t go too far. But now I realised that was a side-issue, a false stick-throw.
And yet, how could I have predicted Kate could be a source of danger?
You see, more than anybody, Kate had always been on my side. Kate had kept the Family strong, no matter what. She, like myself, had seen the Family for what it was. Underneath all the surface tensions and daily dramas there was, of course, an immense and positive force. A force which argued for order in a world of chaos. Love, in a world of hate. A force which spoke, in a soft whisper, during every mealtime and goodnight kiss, saying: If we stick together, everything will be all right. We will never be alone. We will always have each other. Kate had, it seemed to me, always been able to pick up on this voice. Always been able to nod, ever so slightly, as she watched the children fall asleep. A nod which told me she understood. And although everyone always used to joke about her continual efforts to keep the house tidy, I understood that this was just a logical extension of her desire to keep the Family in order.
And so, after Simon came round, for the first time since I had arrived at the Hunter household, I felt truly isolated. I realised that the security of the Family now depended solely on my own actions.
Later on, when Adam was downstairs doing some work, and when Grandma Margaret and Hal and Charlotte were in bed, I went to visit Kate and see if my suspicions could be confirmed. She was sitting on the edge of her bed looking around the room with jerky head movements, as if each object she rested her eyes on was causing her to flinch away.
I nestled my head on her lap, to offer comfort. It didn’t work.
‘Come on, Kate,’ she pleaded with herself, ‘pull yourself together.’
Her breathing slowed for a moment, then broke under the pressure. A smell filled the room, a sad but barely noticeable odour. I could hear Kate’s head turn to liquid, and felt her convulse as her snotty tears forced their way down her face.
She stroked me, a single action with her hand passing across the side of my face and neck and stopping once it reached my shoulder.
‘Oh, Prince, what am I going to do?’ Her voice was quiet now, a helpless whisper, so quiet in fact that I wasn’t entirely sure whether she had spoken or whether I had just been able to pick up on the thoughts in her head. Either way, the question wasn’t intended as a real one. She didn’t really expect me to provide an answer, a once-and-for-all solution to this whole mess. I had always made sure that my adherence to the Pact had been kept secret. But right then, as I stared at the old wedding photo on the mantelpiece, I wondered why that should be. Wouldn’t it be easier to let Kate know that I was on her side? Wouldn’t I be able to have more power to protect the Family? Wouldn’t she be happier? Wouldn’t they all be happier?
But no, I couldn’t.
I knew what I was doing, biding my time.
It was painful though, during the in-between stage. It really hurt.
And then I identified the smell. The barely noticeable odour. It was coming from Kate and now it was getting stronger.
It was the smell of love, leaking away.
safe
I stared at Henry for a long time, as if the solution was somehow inscribed on his big, serious-natured face. In all the time I had known him, he had always been able to find the right words. But that morning he seemed to be struggling.
‘This . . . is . . . a very rare situation,’ he said solemnly. ‘I can honestly tell you, I have never encountered it before.’ He sniffed my cheek, attempting to gain further information. ‘I think you must be very careful in the way you act henceforth.’
‘But I cannot see a way of stopping Simon. There seems no way out.’ I cocked my leg against the nearest plant, but was too nervous for anything to come out.
‘There . . . is . . . always a way out. Always. You must go over the Pact and find a peaceful solution to this problem. It can be interpreted widely, that is true, but you will find it holds the answers.’
‘But, Henry, what would you do in this exact same situation, how would you act?’ I knew this was a disrespectful question, a little too direct, not in line with Labrador etiquette, but as far as I could see it I had no choice.
Henry paused, looked away. I followed his gaze to the park bench: his master, with mine, their heads slumped towards the ground. I wondered what was going on behind Henry’s sad, milky eyes.
‘I . . .’ As soon as he started speaking he stopped, having recognised a familiar scent in the air.
‘I’m not interrupting anything here, am I, fellas?’ It was Joyce, looking as scraggy and leaf-strewn as ever.
‘No, not at all,’ Henry said. Although Joyce was a good friend, we never told her anything about my mission.
‘You haven’t seen that great big monster, Lear, have you?’
‘No, Joyce, we haven’t.’ Henry sniffed her closely.
‘He petrifies me so he does.’
‘Don’t worry, it’s only us,’ said Henry. ‘You’re always safe when we’re around.’
‘Oh yes, fellas. I know that. You’re Labradors, after all.’
‘That’s right, Joyce,’ soothed Henry. ‘That’s right. You’re safe with us.’
pretty
To a human observer, the guests standing on the lawn would have looked like guests standing on the lawn. If the same human observer listened to the conversations taking place, he would assume the main concerns of these guests were house prices, holiday destinations, distant wars, celebrity scandals, radio programmes.
But, for a dog, all of that would have been incidental. Scent told a different story. Scent told me that sex was in the air, in all its many fragrances. And I breathed them in as I weaved my way around the garden. The molecules of unspoken desire.
This was normal. These smells were always there, every time Kate and Adam had large groups of guests around. And I knew they didn’t necessarily signify danger. Mostly, these desires weren’t acted upon. Sometimes, they’d remain so deeply buried that people wouldn’t even realise they were there at all. The couples had managed to convince themselves that they were completely happy with each other, and that nothing could come between them. But there was no denying the change in scent as they moved from their partners towards the other guests.
However, I knew that most of the couples weren’t a threat to the Family and therefore focused my attention on Simon and Emily, who had only just arrived.
I watched as Simon took his paper plate of meat and travelled across the garden, side-stepping the small groupings of guests, until he arrived at Charlotte. She was sitting on a chair, in the far corner of the lawn, staring at her plate of meat-free salad. Grandma Margaret was sitting next to her, wearing her best dress and her baffled smile, saying nothing.
Charlotte spotted Simon’s shadow, then looked up.
He said something. Charlotte smiled politely.
He said something else. Charlotte smiled again, more natural this time.
Kate was also watching – standing, talking to guests I didn’t recognise, but snatching worried glances. Her plate tilted, slowly, unnoticed. Meat fell. She stooped to pick it up, then brought it over to the table I was lying under, next to the barbecue. Watching.
She finished off her glass of wine and went to join Simon and Charlotte. Her anxiety stayed, floating in the air.
They needed protection. Kate. Charlotte. They needed me. So I too went over, navigating my way around legs and lowered arms.
‘Ahh, isn’t he gorgeous?’
‘What a lovely dog.’
‘Looks like he’s on a mission.’
I got stroked. I got laughed at. I got handed pieces of meat. But I was used to dealing with such obstacles – a good-humoured pant was usually enough to get by.
When I made it over, the combination of scents proved confusing. Kate, in particular, was difficult to translate. The desire molecules were definitely there, but over powered by the pungent aroma of fear. And, now that she was up close to him, there was something else. Something approaching regre
t, although I couldn’t be one hundred per cent sure.
This complex combination was most intense when Simon placed an arm around Kate’s shoulders and said to Charlotte: ‘I can see you’ve inherited your mother’s looks.’ He looked over his shoulder, to the far corner of the garden, where Adam was talking to some of the guests: ‘Which must be an incredible relief.’
Charlotte smiled. She found this funny. Not in itself, but in the way it was delivered. I realised that Simon was what humans refer to as ‘a charmer’.
‘So, Kate,’ Simon said, removing his arm. ‘Did you ever return?’
‘Return?’ Kate looked confused.
‘To teaching. After . . . you know . . .’
‘Oh, yes, teaching. I, um, well, I don’t teach any more. I work in town, in a gift shop, three days a week. After Charlotte arrived, I didn’t really have the time or the energy.’
‘Blame me,’ Charlotte said.
‘Well, no. It wasn’t just that. And I carried on for a bit, doing supply work, but I eventually gave it up.’
‘Oh,’ said Simon. ‘That’s a shame.’
Something was happening between them. Some sort of exchange, in the air. I sniffed, frantically, trying to make sense of it, but the fragrance was still too complicated and intermingled with Grandma Margaret’s thousand smells.
‘Anyway, Charlotte. I’d like you to come and meet the lady I work with. You know, I’ve told you about her. The one who used to know Jonathan Ross.’
Charlotte rolled her eyes as she got to her feet.
‘See you later,’ Simon said, smiling, as Kate and Charlotte walked away. Kate turned, threw a worried glance back towards him, and then disappeared among the guests.
Adam was inside, in the kitchen, sorting out the drinks. He didn’t notice me as I entered through the patio doors, even when I sneezed. He just carried on, blank-faced but stiff-bodied, cracking ice into glasses. I tried to smell what he was thinking but it was difficult to decipher, with so many scents in the air. Once I sniffed past the desire molecules the only thing I could identify was the black and smoky aroma of burnt animal flesh carried through from the garden.