It Started at Sunset Cottage

by Bella Osborne

  “Now, listen, mutt. Unless you want to spend the evening in left luggage or the Battersea Dogs’ Home, I suggest you start being nice.” Tim’s face was a bit too close for Horse’s liking and he lunged forward and successfully nipped his nose.

  “Ow!” Tim grabbed the bag and strode out of the restaurant. He was surprised but thankful to see that Terry was waiting nearby. He passed the yapping bag to Terry, “Boot,” he said.

  “I’ll put him on the front seat. If he can’t see you, he might shut up. Did she hit you?” asked Terry, as he noticed that Tim was holding his nose.

  “No, let’s take him back to Lumina before I sell him to the nearest kebab house.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  Terry’s plan was a good one. Horse was happy sitting in the front, especially after Terry had put a couple of cushions from the boot onto the seat so that Horse could see out of the windscreen. Tim checked his nose in the rear vanity mirror and, although it was very red, the bite hadn’t broken the skin. Tim called Lumina’s mobile, but as expected, it went to voicemail. They pulled up outside Lumina’s apartment building and Terry leaned over the driver’s seat to talk to Tim.

  “Shall I take him in, then?”

  “Please,” winced Tim, rubbing his nose. Terry was only gone for a couple of minutes and he returned with Horse and replaced him regally on his cushions,

  “She’s not back yet,” said Terry.

  “But didn’t you drive her back here?”

  “No, she got in a cab.”

  “Just leave it with the concierge, then.”

  “I tried that. They won’t take him.”

  “This is bloody brilliant.” Tim dialled her number again, but this time left a message. “Mina, I am truly sorry about this evening, but sometime soon you’ll realise it’s for the best. Anyway, you left the dog at the restaurant and I’ll have to take it back to my hotel. Can you pick it up as soon as you get this message?”

  Back at Tim’s hotel, things didn’t improve between him and Horse. It took Tim a good 15 minutes to undo the zip of the bag without being bitten. He had been tempted to leave him in the bag or, better still, do the zip up tighter. However, despite what people thought, Tim did have a heart and he didn’t think animals should be treated as fashion accessories, unless of course, in Horse’s case, you were thinking of making him into a stole. The least he could do was let the thing have a run around the suite and have a drink of water. Horse had other ideas. As soon as he was free he started a full on attack of Tim’s toes, which were on display since he’d taken off his shoes and socks to relax.

  “Argh, get off! It’s not far to Battersea, you know!” shouted Tim, to no avail. He ran into the bathroom and shut the door. Horse found this particularly frustrating and sat and yapped and whined outside while Tim made a number of phone calls, including another one to Lumina, one to Terry and lastly Pippa.

  “Pips, darling Pips, I need you,” pleaded Tim into his mobile.

  “Before you ask, I’m having an evening off as I’ll be working most of the weekend sorting out your apartment,” said Pippa quickly. She was snuggled up in bed with a large glass of white wine, a box of Maltesers and the box set of her favourite Sci Fi show.

  “But Pips, I’m being held hostage in my own bathroom.” Pippa dropped the Malteser and clutched the phone.

  “What do you need me to do?” she breathed huskily.

  “I need you to come over now and rescue me.”

  “But I’m in my PJs.” She could feel the panic rising.

  “Just put a coat over the top, no one will know.”

  “Shall I call the police? Are they armed?”

  “No, it’s the sodding dog that’s holding me hostage. Listen,” and Tim held the phone to the bathroom door, outside which Horse was still going apoplectic and was now also scratching frantically at the door and carpet. “The size-to-volume ratio on that thing is way out of proportion.”

  “Tim! I thought you meant… Grrrr,” Pippa growled at him in frustration.

  “Look, I can’t take this in stereo. Terry will drive you here and back; it won’t take more than half an hour and then we’ll all be happy.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it for Horse,” sighed Pippa, pressing “pause” on her DVD. “Ask Terry to pick me up in 20 minutes.”

  “You’re a legend. Terry is waiting out the front of your place now, so get a move on, he wants to finish for the night,” and Tim ended the call before she could protest.

  Horse continued to yap and scratch. Tim found that the more he shouted at Horse the louder he got, so he decided to keep quiet. He put the shower on in an attempt to drown out the sound, but the combined volume was more annoying and the water just made Tim want to pee. Tim tried tying a towel on his head to drown out the noise, but it didn’t work and it was a lot harder to do than it looked. After a few minutes it went quiet outside and Tim found himself doing a little happy dance until he caught sight of himself in the mirror and quickly sat down on the edge of the Edwardian bath.

  A few minutes later, there was a knock on the main suite door. Tim peered out of the bathroom to see if the coast was clear, then tiptoed over and let Pippa in. She was wearing a short black mac, bare legs and red heels.

  “This is actually one of my fantasies,” said Tim, “Did I say that out loud? Sorry.”

  “Calm down, underneath I have my PJs on.”

  “Spoilsport, you didn’t need to tell me that.”

  “So where is he, then?” Pippa was looking around the suite for Horse.

  “Good question. He stopped the torturous yapping about five minutes ago.”

  “I’ll find him, shall I?” Pippa raised her eyebrows and started checking the room, “Horse, come on Horse, it’s Auntie Pippa. I’ve come to take you away from the horrible man.” Tim gave a not-so-amused smile and got himself a beer from the fridge. After a few minutes of searching, Pippa called out, “Here he is. Poor little soul is hiding under the bed. He looks terrified!”

  “Don’t blame me, he was the one doing the terrorising. I’ve got the marks to prove it,” said Tim, pointing to his nose and feet in quick succession.

  “Come and help me. I can’t get him out of here on my own, he’s too scared.”

  “What am I? The bait?” Tim reluctantly joined Pippa, who was on her knees with her backside stuck up in the air and her head under the bed. “Actually, I just need to take a photo of this,” laughed Tim, angling his mobile. Pippa was just about to protest when a shrill voice rang out behind them.

  “Oh, my God! You are a sexaholic!” screeched Lumina.

  “It’s not what you think,” said Pippa, reversing from underneath the bed and banging her head in the process. As she shuffled inelegantly backwards, her mac ruched up, revealing her rolled-up pyjama bottoms.

  “Pippa! Not you too?”

  “No, not me, too. I’m just here to get Horse.”

  “But I’m here to get Horse.”

  Tim sat back on his heels and laughed. He couldn’t help it and he knew it wouldn’t help the situation, but it was one of the funniest sights he’d ever seen. Pippa ignored him and tried to have a normal conversation with Lumina.

  “Horse is under the bed and he won’t come out.”

  “Horsey,” called Lumina, and a shaking Horse crept from under the bed, to be hastily scooped up by Lumina, who shook her head briefly but violently, like a swimmer with water trapped in her ears. She turned on her Jimmy Choo heels and left without another word. Tim could have sworn that the dog stuck its tongue out at him as it left.

  “I’m off back to bed,” said Pippa, standing up.

  “Oh Pips, just one more thing before you go.”

  “Whatever it is, the answer is no!”

  After Pippa had left, Tim decided he’d have a quick drink in the bar. He put on some clean socks and slid his feet into his shoes. The sound of the squelch and the sensation of something soft oozing through his sock hit him simultaneously, closely followed by the smell.

/>   “Little shit!” shouted Tim in anger and disgust, which summed up the situation on so many levels.

  Chapter 25

  Kate had lain awake most of the night, mulling over the proposed weekend away. She knew if it had been Sarah, or probably any woman, for that matter, they would have said yes in a heartbeat, but that wasn’t Kate. She thought things through; she often wished that she didn’t, that she could be spontaneous, but that just wasn’t her way. She had done plenty of thinking and the only downside, which was also a big plus, would be her proximity to Timothy Calder in swimwear. But, if Didi was there she knew she wouldn’t do anything she’d regret and it would definitely be a giggle.

  Kate slunk out of bed and tried to be very quiet. She found herself tiptoeing from room to room. Unfortunately, it appeared that someone had turned up the volume on her otherwise mute house, because now every floorboard had a squeaky song to sing and every door a creaky tale to tell. She hadn’t realised she was living in a sound-effects department. She fired up her computer, which beeped loudly into life and made her shush it. She printed off her holiday checklist and procured her wheelie case from the back of her walk-in wardrobe. Kate happily ferried all her essentials from their winter homes and placed them neatly in groups on the bed, with a separate section for hand luggage, obviously. When she was happy she had everything she could possibly need for one night in the sun, she placed them in the case like an elaborate three-dimensional jigsaw, marking each one off on her list with a satisfying tick in marker pen.

  Kate checked the clock. It was still before seven, but she could hear movement in Amy’s room, so she would be appearing soon. Kate decided now was her chance to call Tim in private. He had said they were leaving early, so she guessed he would be up.

  Kate settled herself in the conservatory with her mobile and rang his number. It barely rang before he answered it.

  “Hi, Kate, hang on a second,” said Tim, and Kate waited patiently, her excitement bubbling away inside. “Okay, fire away.”

  “Count me in for the trip to Italy.” As there was no immediate response she added. “Please.”

  “Er, thing is, Didi changed her mind, she’s sorting the flat out with Pippa.” Kate’s bubble of excitement was reaching boiling point. If she went to Italy now, she’d be alone with Tim. This was one of those decision points in life, where you either made the right decision or the one that you regretted forever.

  “Just the two of us, then. That’s okay with me,” she said as breezily as she could muster, despite the fact that she was now scrunched up into a small ball in an attempt to hold her nerve and contain her excitement.

  Tim carried on almost as if he hadn’t heard her. “So, because Didi changed her mind and I hadn’t heard from you, I flew out last night…” An odd silence followed, where Kate’s mind was wondering if she would look desperate if she suggested getting on the next flight out. Her train of thought was broken by a woman’s cheery voice in the background.

  “Come on, Tim, Jackie’s waiting to have breakfast in the jacuzzi!” she called. There was a strange echo-ey noise, which Kate assumed was a hand covering the phone.

  “Kate, are you still there?” Tim said anxiously.

  “Is that Lumina?” Kate’s voice was barely a whisper.

  “No! It’s not Lumina. God, no,” Tim said emphatically. “That’s completely over. Finished.”

  Kate ended the call and switched off her mobile. She sat and stared out at the early-morning sun dancing over the garden; a single cloud moved slowly in front, to cast shadows and finally block it out completely. She didn’t notice the tears until they dripped onto her tightly folded arms. Kate felt kicked and foolish. After losing James, she knew what it was like to have your heart crushed, but this was a masterpiece of origami. She didn’t know how much more manipulation her poor heart could take and the thought make her hug her knees tighter in an effort to protect herself.

  Kate said she was coming down with something, so Andy, Sarah and Amy left her to have a duvet day while they spruced up Sarah’s house ready for her and Amy to move back in. Sarah decided to start with the kitchen. She thought her house was generally clean, but when you had a really close look, from a down-on-your-hands-and-knees perspective, it was actually a bit mucky.

  Sarah thought the quickest answer for removing the dirt was probably to torch the place, but given her recent scrape with the law, maybe some scouring pads and a selection of multi-coloured cleaners was the answer. Kate had said, “Help yourself”, so Sarah had loaded just about every cleaning product she could find into a box and brought them over.

  She started with something called “multi-purpose cleaner”, which sounded a lot like her, so must be good. Sarah longed for a time when paper plates and sawdust flooring became acceptable. She put the radio on and, a few songs later, she found that the tiles and worktops had been easy and the sink was looking shinier than Irene’s nose at Christmas. Sarah took a deep breath and decided it was time to tackle the floor, which thanks to a stampede of police boots, looked dirtier than a Glastonbury porta-loo.

  “Sarah, is it okay if I just nip out for 20 minutes?” Andy popped his mop of sun- streaked hair around the back door. Sarah liked that he asked her, especially as he had no reason to.

  “No problem. What’s Amy doing?”

  “She’s dusting sand into the gaps between the slabs. Should keep her occupied for ten minutes or so.”

  “Okay, I might know what colour this floor is by the time you get back.” Unfortunately, the floor had other ideas and the super-power floor cleaner that had promised so much was now just a mass of dirty foam that Sarah was pushing around the floor. She looked up to see a very superior look on Amy’s face.

  “Mummy, you have made a big mess!”

  Andy returned, as promised, 20 minutes later and thought twice about entering the foam party that was now the kitchen. “Shall I get some sandwiches?”

  Sarah looked up. She was hot and bothered but she was smiling. “How absorbent are sandwiches? I think we need sandbags!”

  “Three sandwiches and a truck full of sandbags coming up,” and he disappeared again.

  They sat in the garden and had a picnic of shop-bought sandwiches, Hula Hoops and carrot cake, with a large bottle of lemonade to wash it all down. Andy cancelled the incoming call on his mobile for the third time.

  “Someone’s keen to get hold of you,” Sarah nodded at his mobile, in between eating Hula Hoops off her fingers, just as Amy was doing. Andy’s mobile replied with a double beep to advise that a text had also been received.

  “Yeah,” Andy frowned and switched it off.

  “It’s not…” Sarah tried to think of a way to say “Shaun” without Amy catching on, so she pointed at the patio instead. Andy shook his head and concentrated on his sandwich.

  Kate tried to ignore the front-door bell, but when the caller resorted to banging on the door she knew she would have to drag herself out of bed. She had already had to unplug the house phone, thanks to Tim’s incessant calling. She didn’t want to hear his excuses, and why he was so bothered about relating them to her she couldn’t fathom, either. She hoped it wasn’t her neighbour wanting to know about the boundaries again, because she had turned the house upside down looking for the deeds and they were now officially lost. She pulled on her dressing gown and plodded downstairs as the persistent visitor continued to ring and knock. Kate opened the door to find three very trendy-looking people grinning at her.

  “Hi, you must be Kate. I’m Ace.” Kate liked people who had faith in themselves, but felt this was going a bit far.

  “I’m a bit rubbish today, actually, so if you’re selling something…” to which they all started to laugh rather hysterically.

  “You’re funny!” said the very tall young woman next to him. “His name is Ace, I’m Zoe and this is Chad,” she indicated to the two thin men.

  “How can I help you?”

  “We are here to help you!” said Ace overexcitedly. “I’m
a stylist, Chad is a hairdresser and Zoe is a make-up artist.”

  “Was this that magazine competition?” said Kate, really wishing she had got dressed as they all started to laugh again.

  “No, no, no,” waved Ace. “We work with top celebrities and today we are going to give you a complete make-over thanks to…” he gave a dramatic pause, but Kate feared she knew what was coming next, “Timothy Calder!”

  “Sorry, no thank you,” and Kate shut the door and went to get dressed.

  As Sarah was out for the afternoon, doing flower deliveries straight after she finished at the pub, Andy was put in charge of sorting out the loft. Sarah had told him that there were distinct piles for charity, to keep and to throw away. After a quick look through the hatch, Andy resolved to board up the loft as he went, balancing on joists was always dangerous and, for a man of his size and limited balancing ability, it could easily end in disaster. He was no Billy Elliott, that was for sure. A quick trip to the DIY store with Amy provided them with the chipboard flooring they needed.

  Whilst Andy was busy in the loft, Amy set about sorting out any clothes that were too small for her and also any toys that she no longer wanted so that they could go to the charity shop, too.

  After three hours at the pub and two more in the Back to the Fuchsia van, Sarah opened her front door to see Andy and Amy sitting on the bottom step of the stairs looking just as tired as she did.

  “Mummy!” Amy immediately brightened up and flung her arms around Sarah. Andy held up a small box and gestured for Sarah to look inside. She peered over the edge and flinched, before she recognised the poor mangy stuffed otter inside.

  “He’s for the charity shop. He might be of use to someone, I think!”

  “He’s for the police station. He’s full of cocaine, I think!” Andy said in a phlegmatic tone.

  “What?” Sarah stuck her head in the box to get a closer look. There was more white dust than before, spilling out of the otter and part of a plastic bag was now visible where Andy had had more of a rummage about, “Oh fu…dge,” modified Sarah.