‘Better stick to cats then,’ said Dave.
Joe doubled over with laughter. Cheryl and Dani both ignored the men.
‘If I didn’t have such a busy life,’ said Cheryl to Dani. ‘I’d get a dog myself. I really would.’
‘I know one that’s available,’ said Dani.
‘He’s not available,’ said Dave, suddenly strangely firm on the matter. ‘He’s your daughter’s birthday present, Dani. Flossie will be moving out before you know it and you’ll be glad she’s got a dog with her then to protect her and such. What’s a bit of pooper-scooping in the meantime?’
Joe agreed. And so did Cheryl.
‘It will teach her responsibility,’ Cheryl added. Optimistically, Dani thought. Cheryl had never met Flossie.
‘It will teach her about love,’ said Joe.
‘Oh yes.’ Dave and Cheryl nodded at the profundity.
‘Love? Balls. If none of you will have him, he’s going to the shelter,’ Dani said.
Dave, Joe and Cheryl all glared at her.
‘Well, he is,’ said Dani. ‘And it’s not my fault.’
All the same, for the rest of the day, Dave and Joe would barely speak to her. When Dani was carrying a bag of rubbish out to the wheelie bins, Dave said loudly, ‘Some people think that anything can be thrown away.’
‘That isn’t fair!’ Dani responded.
‘Just saying it like it is,’ said Dave.
‘Word,’ said Joe, as the two men shared a fist bump.
Later, Cheryl layered on the guilt when they met in the car park as Dani was getting onto her bicycle.
‘After hearing about your dog,’ she said, ‘I spent half the afternoon on the local shelter’s website. There are so many puppies looking for a home! Their little faces! Unbearable … All cold and lonely in those concrete-bottomed cages.’
‘It’s terrible,’ Dani agreed. ‘But what can you do?’
‘I think you know what you can do,’ said Cheryl brusquely as she got into her car.
‘I can’t have a dog!’ Dani howled at Cheryl’s taillights.
It was so unfair. None of Dani’s colleagues were being reasonable. They knew she didn’t have a partner to share the responsibility. They knew what kind of hours she had to work. They surely must have known that The Majestic didn’t pay well enough to keep anyone in dog biscuits …
Yet they had all ganged up on her.
And so had the weather. Dani had to cycle back up the hill from the sea into a headwind.
When Dani finally got home, Flossie was in the living room with Jane and Sarah from next door. The three of them were sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace with the puppy in the middle. When Dani came in, the puppy bounded in her direction, with his candy-pink tongue lolling out of a big wide grin. It was completely obvious that he had Staffy in him now Dani knew for sure.
Dani tried to look underwhelmed by the puppy’s greeting but the truth was that her heart leapt towards him even as he seemed intent on putting holes in her calves with his sharp puppy teeth.
‘Did you talk to Eric?’ Flossie asked. Her voice quivered ever so slightly.
‘Yes.’
Flossie bit her lip.
‘He won’t have him back,’ Dani said. ‘He said if we can’t keep him, I should take him to the dog shelter.’
Flossie snatched the puppy up and held him so tightly he squeaked.
‘You can’t!’ said Jane and Sarah, quite spontaneously.
Dani sighed.
The truth was she couldn’t bear the thought any more than Dave, Joe, Cheryl, Jane, Sarah or Flossie could. The people at the animal shelter were nice enough. Dani had often stopped to chat with them when they were collecting funds outside Tesco. But the idea of this puppy being taken from her warm home and put into a cage with a concrete floor, with who knew what sort of future ahead was just awful.
‘But I don’t have time to walk him,’ Dani said.
‘We’re going to do that,’ said Flossie. ‘Me and Jed. And Gran sometimes as well.’
‘I’ll help,’ said Sarah.
‘I don’t have time to train him.’
‘We’re going to do that too.’
‘He’d have to be entirely your responsibility,’ Dani reminded her daughter.
‘I can take it.’ Flossie gave her mum the Brownie salute. ‘I need the practice.’
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this.’
‘Saying what?’ Flossie asked eagerly.
‘We’re keeping the puppy,’ said Dani. ‘So he’d better have a name.’
‘Oh, I’ve already given him a name,’ said Flossie.
‘What is it?’ Dani asked, fearing the worst.
‘Jeremy Corbyn,’ Flossie told her.
‘Jeremy Corbyn? What kind of name for a dog is that?’
‘It’s the name of a hero,’ said Flossie. She picked the puppy up and planted a kiss on his nose. ‘Isn’t that right, Jeremy Corbyn? Jezza for short.’
‘Jezza? That’s even worse.’
‘It suits him,’ Flossie insisted. ‘It’s masculine. It’s playful. It’s …’
‘It’s OK, I suppose.’
Dani got down onto the rug next to her daughter. The puppy rolled straight onto his back for a tummy tickle. Flossie and Sarah immediately obliged.
Meanwhile, Jane squeezed Dani’s hand. ‘It’s going to be fine. In fact, I’m rather looking forward to having some male energy around the house.’
As if he’d heard Jane speaking, the newly named Jeremy Corbyn chose that moment to jump up and attempt a bit of beginner’s leg-lifting by the sofa.
‘Your dog,’ Dani reminded Flossie.
‘GCSE maths day after tomorrow,’ said Flossie as she disappeared upstairs.
Chapter Nine
Fortunately for Dani, even if she didn’t know the first thing about dog care, she knew a man who did. Her great friend Liz, whom she’d met when they were in the same antenatal group at Newbay General, had recently remarried. Her first husband was an unfaithful dental sales rep. Her second husband, who seemed altogether more suitable, was an extremely devoted vet.
When Dani told Liz about Jed’s ill-considered gift, Liz was quick to leap to the thoughtless young man’s defence.
‘You’re always saying you’d like to have a dog,’ Liz reminded Dani. ‘And,’ she echoed Eric and Dave and Joe and Cheryl and just about everybody else, ‘dogs are a great way to get more joy into your life.’
It was thanks to Liz’s own dog Ted, a portly Norfolk terrier, that she had met Doctor Evan Thomas, of Thomas and Thomas Vets, when he insisted she sign Ted up for a Waggy Weight Loss course.
‘Maybe I don’t need more joy in my life,’ Dani said.
‘You need this dog. Evan will sort you out,’ Liz promised.
Two days later, while Flossie was at school taking her maths exam, Dani took Jeremy Corbyn – Jezza for short – to Evan’s surgery to be added to his register of pets. When Jezza met Evan, the warm feelings were obvious and mutual.
‘Isn’t he a little poppet?’ said Evan. ‘Just look at that doggy smile.’
‘That doggy smile is typical of his heritage, isn’t it?’ asked Dani.
‘Ah yes. What was it you said? Half poodle, half Staffy. A proper Frankendog. Great hair and teeth,’ Evan quipped. ‘But I like the look of him. Flossie’s boyfriend chose a good one. He’s been well cared for. He’s in excellent shape. Strong paws. Nice legs. Excellently shaped head. Healthy nose. And intelligent,’ he nodded, as Jezza made a playful lunge for his fingers. ‘You’ll have your work cut out keeping him amused. He’ll need lots of toys for a start.’
‘But he’s half Staffy, Evan. Is it even safe for me to have him around the house?’
‘Staffies have a bad reputation,’ said Evan. ‘But it’s unfounded. Trained in the right way, they make exceptionally loyal and kind pets. There are no bad dogs, Dani, only bad owners. Isn’t that right, Jezza?’
Evan nuzzled the puppy’s nose with his
knuckle.
Evan Thomas was a real Dr Doolittle. The animals under his care seemed to understand that he only had good intentions towards them. Jezza was already on his back, looking for another tummy tickle.
‘Just make sure you get him properly trained from the very beginning and everything will go smoothly. He’ll reward you with a lifetime of love and devotion. Owning a dog will bring you a whole new world of connections,’ he said. ‘You can start with Nurse Van Niekerk’s puppy boot camp. Saturday mornings between nine and ten. Before Waggy Weight Loss. Hopefully, Jeremy will never be a member of that club.’
‘Nurse Van Niekerk’s puppy boot camp?’ Dani echoed.
‘Where all the good dogs go. That’s the motto.’
Dani had heard all about Nurse Van Niekerk, Evan’s strict South African practice nurse from Liz. She had a reputation for being somewhat brusque.
‘It’s called Best Behaviour Boot Camp. Nurse Van Niekerk teaches general life skills and agility. Ah, here she is now,’ Evan said.
Nurse Van Niekerk came into the room with her clipboard. She was a strong-looking woman with the air of an elite rugby coach about her.
‘Jeremy Corbyn?’
‘This is he,’ said Evan, indicating Jezza.
‘So you must be Mrs Jeremy Corbyn,’ Nurse Van Niekerk said to Dani.
‘You can call me Dani,’ she suggested.
‘No need,’ said Nurse Van Niekerk. ‘Just gets things confused … Now, puppy training. I thought we’d sign you up straight away.’
There was no getting out of it. And Jezza had greeted Nurse Van Niekerk with quite some enthusiasm. Now he tried to attract her attention again with his cutest whimper.
‘Hello, little fella.’ Nurse Van Niekerk tickled him under the chin, her stern face suddenly transformed by a huge and genuine smile. ‘You’re a clever little chap, I can tell. Look at those intelligent eyes. You’re going to love Nurse Van Niekerk’s Best Behaviour Boot Camp, aren’t you?’
Jezza wagged his tail so hard that he wagged his whole bottom.
‘Remember,’ said Evan to Dani in an aside. ‘Dogs never lie about how they feel.’
Nurse Van Niekerk and Jezza were certainly having a love-in.
‘When do we start?’ Dani asked.
‘Saturday mornings. Nine o’clock sharp. A new term starts in two weeks. Don’t be late,’ said Nurse Van Niekerk.
‘We wouldn’t dare,’ Dani assured her.
Leaving the clinic with Jezza in her arms again, Dani couldn’t help remembering the last time she’d been entrusted with the care of something so young and small and vulnerable.
‘You’ll be fine,’ the nurses said as they waved her and Flossie off from the Maternity Unit.
Back then, Dani hadn’t been the least bit confident she was capable either. But if the nurses thought she could cope on her own, she’d decided, then perhaps she could. Likewise, if Evan thought Jezza was a good puppy who could be trained to become a great dog.
‘Confidence,’ Dani muttered to herself. ‘Fake it till you make it.’
She straightened up. She was a dog owner now. She nodded to a woman who was trying to persuade a small French bulldog to get out of a car.
‘Come along, Coco. It’s hardly raining at all.’
While Dani loaded Jeremy into the basket of her bicycle, the French bulldog owner tied what appeared to be a genuine Hermès scarf around her little dog’s head to protect it from the drizzle. Once the scarf was in place, the dog finally deigned to slide down from the car seat to the pavement and walked towards the surgery with her owner holding an umbrella like the Queen’s equerry.
‘Hello!’ the woman said, as she passed Dani and Jezza. ‘A new puppy! Oh, how lovely. What’s his name?’
‘Jezza. Jeremy Corbyn.’
‘Oh, perfect. This is Coco Chanel,’ said the woman, indicating the dog in the scarf. ‘And I’m Mrs Coco.
‘You’ve brought your boy to the right vet here,’ she continued. ‘There’s nothing Dr Thomas and Nurse Van Niekerk don’t know about dogs. We wouldn’t be without them, would we, Coco?’
Coco made a snuffling sound that may or may not have signified agreement.
‘Well, lovely to meet you Jezza and Mrs Jezza. Welcome to the Newbay canine community.’
With that, Mrs Coco continued on her way, managing three steps before Coco the dog sat down and refused to move until she was picked up. And given a treat.
‘Don’t get any ideas,’ Dani told Jezza.
Chapter Ten
Everyone at The Majestic was very happy to hear that Jezza the Staffy-poo had found his forever home. Meanwhile, Dani was relieved to be back in everybody’s good books. It was certainly helpful that everyone was talking to her again since there was a lot to do that week.
The day of Nat Hayward’s ‘celebratory birthday party event’ for his girlfriend Lola was suddenly upon them. Cheryl could hardly contain herself as she bustled as far as she was allowed into the kitchen on the morning of the do.
‘Is everything ready?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
Dani had put an extra special effort into Lola’s birthday cake. Though she had made hundreds of chocolate gateaux over the years, she treated this one as though it was her first. She threw away the initial attempt, which wasn’t moist enough. A second attempt cracked as it cooled. It would have tasted OK but Dani refused to cover the fault lines with icing. She was a professional. A third attempt was, thankfully, pretty much perfect.
‘Are the Michelin inspectors coming?’ Joe the sous-chef asked, as he watched Dani smoothing on the chocolate mirror icing, which shone as though it was still warm.
‘Just the great Nat “Frank” Hayward,’ said head chef Dave. ‘Even more reason to be nervous. If you’re Dani …’
Dani scowled.
‘I’m just taking pride in my work,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter who the customer is.’
‘Not much.’ Dave elbowed Dani in the ribs. ‘It’s all right, Dani. Your secret is safe with me.’
‘What secret?’ Joe shouted.
‘My lips are sealed,’ said Dave. ‘I’ll tell you on our next fag break.’
‘Whatever he says is absolute rubbish!’ Dani countered. ‘Nat Hayward’s just another customer.’
If he was honest Dave was also interested in seeing how Nat, the scruffy, clumsy kid from all those years ago, had grown and changed. He was particularly impressed that Nat had a younger girlfriend. Though Dani reminded him he shouldn’t go expressing that kind of opinion.
‘Stinging a bit, is it? Thinking of him with someone else?’ Dave prodded.
‘Not a bit,’ said Dani. ‘After twenty-two years, I think I’m just about over him.’
‘Yeah right. Keep saying it until you believe it.’
‘I am! And if you do talk to him, Dave, for goodness’ sake don’t call him Frank.’
‘But that’s his nickname.’
‘That was his nickname. Nat’s a client now. Not one of us.’
‘He’ll always be one of us. Once you’ve worked in Dave’s kitchen …’
‘He got out,’ Dani reminded him.
The cake was finished. Dani stood back and admired her handiwork. Of course, she hoped Nat liked it, but only in the same way she hoped any of her customers appreciated what she’d made. Really, that was all.
Nat arrived at seven thirty in the evening, bringing the first of his guests with him. With nothing to do in the kitchen for a while, Dani watched from behind the screen that occluded the swinging kitchen door.
Nat was wearing a suit. It was the first time she’d seen him dressed like that – unless you counted the sort-of-matching blazer and trousers he wore for school. He was with three other adults. Dani recognised Nat’s mother. The other man, she thought, must be Nat’s father, but if it was, he looked frail. That must have been what Nat was about to tell her the other day. Nat helped his father into a chair.
Other guests arrived soon afterwards. Mo
stly younger people. They stood around and sipped champagne cocktails and nibbled at Dave the chef’s excellent canapés (which were especially delicious if you hadn’t watched Dave make them). Meanwhile Cheryl the events manager buzzed around them like a particularly officious wasp, clipboard still in hand.
Apart from Nat’s family, Dani didn’t recognise any of the other people at the party. Nat’s big sister, Kate, wasn’t among them. It was strange to see his parents again, though. She wondered if Nat had told them she was still working in the restaurant.
There were three women who might have been contenders for the role of Lola but while Dani was watching from behind the screen, Nat didn’t seem to pay any one of them particularly close attention. In any case, surely the other guests would have been pressing gifts into Lola’s hands?
‘Is she there yet?’ Dave asked, joining Dani in her lookout.
‘Who?’
‘Frank’s younger woman?’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Dani. ‘And you’ve got to stop calling him Frank.’
As she said that, another small group of people arrived. A couple in their fifties and a younger woman. By the way the others reacted, this group definitely contained the birthday girl.
Lola. L-O-L-A Lola.
She did not look anything like Dani had expected. Dani had convinced herself over the past week that the Nat she once knew would have gone for a serious young woman with a slightly dowdy style. But this Lola, the real Lola, was something else. She was slim and pretty in a very polished way. Her blonde hair was piled high on her head in an intricate but chic up-do. She wore the sort of complicated make-up that Flossie was always trying to perfect before she met Jed and went grunge.
Nat took Lola’s perfectly classic trench coat from her shoulders, revealing her to be wearing a short white sequinned dress, sixties-style, over bare brown legs and a pair of high gold stilettoes. Once out of her coat, she greeted her guests enthusiastically, squealing with delight as each one came up for a birthday kiss.
‘What’s she like?’ Dave asked.
‘Look for yourself,’ said Dani, ceding her place at the gap between the screen panels.
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