‘Murphy, no!’
‘Get between them if you can,’ Scarlett reminded him. ‘Try distracting him with Bunny Wabbit.’
‘And don’t say anything,’ Charlie added. ‘Good boy, Barkley.’
Barkley was not amused by the assault.
‘Max, you’ve got to keep hold of Murphy at all times until he breaks this habit. Otherwise he won’t improve.’
Max’s face crumpled as he watched Murphy panting out his lust. Bunny wabbit hung limply in his hand. ‘He’s not improving! Every time I think he is, he goes and does something like this. You should have seen him earlier, he went after the arm of our sofa this morning. I mean he really went at it.’ A huge sigh escaped him. Scarlett hoped there wouldn’t be tears, but it looked close.
‘Max, I think we need to be realistic. The humping isn’t always just a habit. I know you really don’t want him neutered, and you should keep working with him, but we’re getting towards the end of the course. Maybe it’s best to have a solid plan in your head. This is about Murphy.’
‘I think she’s right,’ Charlie said. ‘You don’t have to give him the snip if you really don’t want to, but then you won’t ever be able to let him off the lead. And you said yourself that’s not fair to Murphy. It might be a choice between two shitty options.’
Scarlett hated seeing her clients disappointed, and not only on a professional level. They were always more than clients by the end of the course. ‘He has improved, Max, don’t forget that. You control him much better now.’
‘I know,’ Max said. ‘He’s not as bad as he was, but I can’t trust him off the lead yet.’
‘So we’ll work really hard on the training for the next few weeks and then give him a chance to prove himself. How about that? We’ll devise some tests for him in the later session. That’s fair, right? If we’re happy that he’s controllable, then maybe he won’t need to be neutered.’
‘Murphy’s Last Stand. And if he fails…’ Max didn’t finish.
They all watched Murphy panting into the sunshine.
Murphy wasn’t the only one needing distraction. Maybe Max would feel better to know his wasn’t the only problem dog around. ‘Charlie, I’d like you to walk slowly towards Naomi. Let Max hold Barkley. Sort of sneak up without looking like you’re sneaking.’
Charlie inched his way toward Naomi, freezing in place every time Hiccup glared at him. He practically stared at the ceiling and whistled.
Boyfriend or not, Hiccup wasn’t prepared to let him get too close to Naomi. She growled her warning. ‘Wait till Hiccup stops growling, Charlie, then go a bit closer. If she doesn’t stop growling, then Naomi, I want you to walk her away. Just a few steps, though, like you were doing before. Throw her a treat, Charlie, when she seems settled.’
Poor Barkley stared at his human. What’s the meaning of this betrayal? You’ve mixed up your dogs, Charlie. I’m over here.
What if he gave all his treats to the ungrateful little beast? Didn’t Charlie remember what had happened in the car? She tried to kill us, Charlie. KILL US.
Hiccup wasn’t crazy about the situation either, but a treat was a treat and as they rained down, she found she could stomach the idea.
They waved Max off to his date after the session, making him promise not to say anything about where they should spend their weekends.
‘Do you think you could help Hiccup?’ Naomi asked shyly. Charlie tried to contain his grin.
‘I think so, yes,’ Scarlett said. ‘We should talk more about Hiccup’s history. And it’s probably best to keep Barkley out of the firing line as much as possible, so I’d suggest some one-on-one sessions.’ She didn’t really have time to take on another client, but she couldn’t very well say no when Charlie’s future depended on it. ‘Shall we meet again and see how we get on?’
‘How many sessions do you think she’ll need?’
‘You’ll usually see progress with just a few. Once a dog catches on, her behaviour can change really fast. After that it’s all about reinforcement. Are you worried about Hiccup?’
Naomi reddened. ‘It’s just that… she has to get better.’
‘I’m sure she will,’ Scarlett said. She wasn’t fazed by the urgency in Naomi’s voice. She was used to desperate clients. They often came to her as a last resort. ‘I know it’s tough right now, especially when you’re around Charlie and Barkley, but there are techniques we can try to help Hiccup overcome her mistrust.’
‘No, what I mean is: she has to get better. The police have said she has to. She’s got an ASBO,’ Naomi confessed. ‘A dog ASBO. If she doesn’t stop being aggressive, they might even put her down. I can’t let that happen!’
Scarlett stared at Hiccup.
The furry, foul-tempered little felon whined as tears sprang to Naomi’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry for being emotional,’ she whispered.
It seemed that Naomi wasn’t quite as steely as Scarlett had assumed. ‘That’s totally understandable! Let me email you tonight with some dates I could do. Could you do something in the daytime?’
‘Any time. We have to fix her.’
Scarlett rang Shannon on her walk from the park. ‘Remember I told you about Charlie and Naomi, the boyfriend-girlfriend thing with the aggressive dog? She’s agreed to some training! And it turns out that Hiccup, that’s the dog, has an ASBO. I’m not surprised, she’s pretty vicious. I told you she’s a rescue dog, right?’
‘Hello to you too,’ Shannon said.
‘Sorry, hiya. You’re walking?’
‘With your dogs. I saw Rufus earlier when I picked them up.’
Scarlett’s good mood deflated a little. ‘How did he seem?’ She’d see for herself in an hour, but it’d be nice to be prepared.
‘Fine, normal. I got one word answers between blowing up cars.’
‘Welcome to my world,’ Shannon said. ‘He spends hours on that game.’
‘He just needs something else to distract him. Isn’t that what you do with your clients?’
Scarlett imagined waving Bunny Wabbit in front of her husband. ‘I’ve tried that. It doesn’t always go as well as you’d think.’ Shannon wouldn’t want details. She got pretty queasy about her best friends’ sex life.
‘He’s probably nervous about getting the urologist’s results next week,’ Shannon said. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m trying not to think about it, but it’s weird, you know? I mean, this man I’ve never met has the answer to whether Rufus and I will ever be parents. A stranger knows something so intimate about us already, but we don’t. That doesn’t seem fair. One person shouldn’t have that much power.’
‘It is his job,’ Shannon pointed out. ‘Won’t it be better to know? Then you can start thinking about what to do. Have you thought about what to do, if the answer isn’t what you hope?’
‘La la la la la, I’m not listening! Don’t jinx it. I don’t want to give Fate any excuse to sucker punch us. We’ll deal with whatever comes after the meeting.’
‘As long as you’re okay,’ Shannon said. ‘Promise you’ll let me know when you get out of the appointment?’
‘Or Rufus will.’ There was that edge again. ‘My dogs are good?’
‘Mmm hmm. I think Ginger has a crush on one of Mr Darcy’s greyhounds. We were talking to each other before you rang.’
‘What, just now? And I barged into your conversation? Again? I’m sorry.’ She never stopped to think whether Shannon might be busy with her own life.
‘It’s fine,’ Shannon said. ‘I don’t know if we have much to say to each other anyway.’
‘Well, you won’t if you keep answering your phone instead of talking to him. Did you at least find out his name?’
‘No. What if it’s something totally ordinary like Jim or Mike? Or the same as one of the dogs? Sampson. Fred. No, Clive. That’ll be hard to take. Do you think he’d object to being called Mr Darcy? I might have to keep it as a nickname.’
‘Just stop answering the phone when you’re with hi
m or you’ll never find out.’
‘As if I’d ignore you for someone who might be named after a poodle.’
Rufus still hadn’t killed all the bad guys by the time she got home. At least the dogs greeted her at the door.
‘So, Mr Darcy’s greyhound, eh?’ she said to Ginger as she scratched her back. ‘Isn’t he a little tall for you? Your puppies would look like llamas.’
The blinds were still drawn in the living room. She peered at Rufus in the glowing blue gloom where he’d made himself a nest on the sofa from the duvet. ‘Have you moved at all today?’
On screen he paused the stubbly man on the quad bike before he let loose with his machine gun. ‘I answered the door when the takeaway came. Does that count?’ As he stretched, one hairy leg poked out from under the duvet.
‘Did you open the door to him like that, in your pants?’
‘I have a robe on. What time is it?’
Scarlett laughed. ‘Almost dinnertime.’ She opened the blinds to banish the pall hanging over the room. Stale man and curry. How appetising. ‘I picked up some bits.’
They were more than bits. She’d tramped all over north London for Rufus’s favourite foods: the smoky baba ganoush and nutty falafel from the Lebanese restaurant near her old flat, where they always gave her a free box of gooey baklava, the rosemary and sea salt focaccia from the Italian deli, paper thin slices of prosciutto and peppery salami, and those giant bright green olives that were impossible to eat in one bite. She got Medjool dates from her man at the corner shop, where she couldn’t resist a few ripe avocadoes to mash up with fresh lemon juice and sea salt.
The plastic shopping bags were starting to cut into her hand. She turned towards the kitchen to put them down. ‘I’ll make us martinis while you shower.’
‘Scarlett, that’s nice, but I’d really just like to relax.’
She turned back. ‘And I’d really like to have a nice Saturday night with my husband. Why can’t we both get what we want?’
With a dramatic sigh he pulled himself up. ‘You’re not going to make me go out, are you?’
Her deep breath just kept her from snapping. ‘I just said I’ve got us a load of food.’ They didn’t have to go out to have fun. She was literally bring fun to him on a plate. If he needed a distraction, he was going to get it.
The martini glasses lived in a high cabinet with the bread maker, the pasta machine and the iron – all the gadgets they never actually used. They’d been a wedding present from Rufus’s parents. Those people knew their way around the bottom of a Gordon’s bottle, but after a few weeks of nightly martinis, Scarlett and Rufus put the glasses away for the sake of their livers.
They did used to have fun together, Scarlett was sure of it. Long nights of silliness and comfort. That might be a bit homely for some, but she’d loved knowing every Friday night that they had a relaxed weekend ahead of them.
She threw Fred and Ginger each a treat. ‘There’s no reason Rufus can’t have as much fun with us as he does on his guy’s nights out with Shannon, right, dogs?’
They stared at her. Fred tilted his head. Yeah, sure, start with another one of those snacks.
Rufus’s hair was wet when he padded back into the kitchen in jeans and his favourite blue hoodie. He smelled of lemony shower gel.
‘Remember I told you about my client’s girlfriend? The one with the possessive Jack Russell?’ She handed him his martini and clinked glasses. ‘She came to class today with Hiccup and let me give her some instruction.’
He caught her with his deep blue gaze. ‘You’re too nice. She let you? She’s supposed to be paying you, you know.’
‘Pulease. Like you never do work for free.’
They were both pushovers and he knew it. He was always helping green businesses, whether they could afford his company’s services or not. ‘And she is going to pay me. We’re doing some sessions together. I like to think of it as a very clever try-before-you-buy bit of marketing.’
‘You’re a sharp businesswoman.’ Rufus smiled when he peered into the carrier bags. ‘Have you got time to take on more, though? You’re working six days a week as it is.’
‘I don’t really, but she needs help, Rufus. The police have cautioned the dog. They could put her down if she bites anyone. She might not be the most pleasant animal at the moment, but it’s only because she’s frightened. And Naomi really loves her. It’ll only be a few sessions. She hasn’t really got a chance otherwise. Besides, it’s Charlie I’m really thinking of. Neither of them can get rid of their dog, but they can’t be together with the way things are now.’
‘Romeo and Juliet with dogs. You’re such a romantic,’ he said.
‘Takes one to know one.’ She took a last sip of her drink. Time for another round.
They had been romantic once, hadn’t they? Naturally romantic? She thought so, but the last year was muddling everything up in her head. There were only so many purposeful sex sessions one could have before the shine wore off.
‘Put on some music, will you please?’ she asked. ‘Something dancey.’
‘Getting your groove on? You should drink martinis more often.’ He went to the iPod on the shelf.
Exactly her thoughts. She found little dishes for all the food and piled them on trays. ‘Let’s eat in the living room,’ she said as Beyoncé sang about single ladies.
Scarlett bounced from the kitchen with a tray. ‘Grab that one, will you?’ She grinned as she laid out the morsels and fluffed the dented sofa cushions. ‘And bring the martini shaker, too.’
Rufus attacked the baba ganoush. ‘Why don’t we eat this all the time?’ A plop landed on the table as he scooped more bread into the dip.
Scarlett swiped up the plop with her finger and popped it into her mouth. ‘Mmm. It’s divine.’ Though to be honest her tongue had gone a little numb from the gin. She took another sip. ‘Let’s dance.’
‘Let’s eat,’ he said, not moving.
That sofa was becoming attached to his arse. ‘No, come on,’ she whined. ‘It won’t go cold. Dance with me.’ She drew him to his feet. ‘What’s wrong?’ His funky chicken was half-hearted to say the least. ‘Is it your incision?’
Rufus’s face went funny.
‘It’s only been a week, I guess. How long does it take to heal?’
‘How do you know about that?’ he murmured.
Oh, right. Technically she didn’t know. ‘I… read about it on the NHS website.’ She wasn’t sure if she was saving her face or protecting Shannon’s confidence. ‘It’s a normal procedure to have a biopsy,’ she said, like she had them all the time.
They gazed at each other, sipping their drinks.
She tried to remember the fun little anecdotes she’d thought of on the train journey back. Before their night went totally off the rails. She was about to mention Murphy when she realised that talking about neutering to a sterile man might not be the best way to get the party started.
‘Want to play cards? Or Pictionary? A board game would be fun!’ Even she didn’t believe what she was saying. Shannon had never mentioned any raucous Scrabble tournaments with Rufus. She doubted they figured into his top ten nights out.
‘Could you please just stop acting like everything is normal?’ he asked. ‘Everything is not normal. It’s about as far from normal as it’s possible to be.’
‘We’ll get through this,’ she said.
‘How, Scarlett? How exactly are we meant to get through this? We aren’t sterile, are we? I am. You can still have children. I’m the one shooting blanks.’
‘I can’t have them without you, Rufus.’
‘As if I haven’t got enough pressure. Thanks for that. Thanks for reminding me.’ He poured the last of the martini batch into their glasses.
She didn’t bother getting a game out. What was the point? Why was she jumping through all these hoops anyway, like some desperate performing monkey trying to be Rufus’s entertainment? It was obvious he wasn’t having fun.
‘
Is your incision all right?’ she ventured. ‘It must have hurt.’
‘Look, do we have to talk about it? Our conversations don’t always have to revolve around my medical shortcomings.’
She slammed down her glass. ‘I can’t win with you! One minute you tell me not to act like nothing’s wrong and the next you yell at me for worrying about you. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry so much if you’d told me what was going on. Like having surgery.’
He swallowed hard. ‘Jesus, could I be more of a dick?’ He reached for her. ‘I’m so wrapped up in my own shit that I’ve been an arsehole to you. I just feel so, I don’t know, hopeless. In every sense of the word. A loser. Without hope. There’s nothing you can do to help me with this, and I’m really sorry about that, but there isn’t. They’re my feelings. I am sorry you’re having to deal with them, too. You don’t deserve any of this.’
‘Just don’t shut me out, Rufus. I mean it. We’re dead if you do that.’
Chapter 24
They might be seeing a different doctor in a different room with comfier chairs, but Scarlett had the same dreadful feeling as she stared around the waiting area. Luckily there was no one else there to catch her eye. She didn’t want to imagine what they were in for and she definitely didn’t want them imagining why she and Rufus were there.
It was a lot plusher than their GP’s surgery, with pale grey deep-pile carpet and muted walls. There were no brightly coloured Blu-Tacked reminders to parents about vaccinations and breastfeeding clinics or plastic crates of toys. Urology was for grown-ups.
‘This is nice,’ Scarlett said, noticing one of the paintings.
Rufus looked at her like she was insane.
‘The décor, I mean. The surroundings.’
His smile was faint. They were both tired of keeping up appearances.
When he squeezed her hand it made a farty noise from the sweat slicking their palms. They both cracked up. Not so grown-up after all.
A man around her dad’s age opened one of the office doors. ‘Would you like to come through?’
Rufus made the introductions as they went into his office.
Love is a Four-Legged Word: The romantic comedy about canines, conception and fresh starts Page 19