‘Actually the police already know about it,’ I said, smiling at her sweetly, and gave her a quick résumé of Pongo’s actions. Her face was a picture.
‘So they’ve caught the burglar?’ she said. ‘You’re telling me it was him – that stupid young Josh – all this time?’
‘He said it was his first time. He was trying to pin the blame for the other times on some friend of his called Andy.’
‘Not bloody Andy from the paper shop?’ she squawked.
‘I’ve no idea, sorry. I expect it will all come out in court.’
‘Oh, it won’t take that long, not around here,’ she said with a nod of satisfaction. ‘Everyone knows everyone in this town. We’ll soon get to the truth.’ She paused then, and continued more quietly, ‘Well, I suppose I should take back what I’ve said about that dog of Pat’s. It seems like he’s done us all a bloody favour.’
‘He certainly saved Pat’s house from being burgled, anyway,’ I agreed.
‘Bit of a bloody hero, isn’t he,’ she said, nodding again. ‘And you, too, girl – what’s your name, anyway?’
‘Emma,’ I said, smiling.
‘Well, Emma, if it does turn out young Josh – or that bloody idiot Andy – have been behind all these break-ins, I think you’ll find everyone here in Crickleford will want to shake you by the hand and thank you for putting a stop to them. So let me be the first.’
She grasped my hand and pumped it up and down, finally giving me a grin that transformed her face.
‘I’m Hattie, by the way,’ she added as I turned to go.
I had to smother a grin. Purple Hat Hattie. Who’d have thought we’d end up friends?
The conversation had unnerved me somewhat, though, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it as I walked back with Pongo to Primrose Cottage for my shower and breakfast. I was pleased to think everyone in the town would be grateful to Pongo, but I didn’t like Hattie’s assertion that they’d also want to thank me For a start, I hadn’t really done anything, apart from calling the police, but more to the point, I’d come here to avoid being the centre of attention, not to be thrust back into it.
I also needed to find a way of explaining myself to Lauren, before the story began to circulate. During the rest of the day, as I played with Pongo and then sat in the house with him while a handyman, recommended by Hattie, came to fix the forced window, I gradually worked out how I could do it with the least possible number of lies to add to my repertoire.
‘I’ve got a confession to make,’ I began, when I was seated at the dinner table with the family that evening. ‘What I told you about working night shifts – it was slightly stretching the truth.’
‘What do you mean?’ Lauren asked, looking at me in surprise.
I crossed my fingers and ploughed on, telling her that I had been working nights – kind of – but not at the care home. That I’d been doing some pet sitting, on the side, which had started accidentally, with Mary hearing about me looking after Romeo and Juliet, and that I now had another dog to look after, who had needed me to stay with him overnight. I said I’d kept quiet about it because she and Jon had been so kind to me. I hadn’t wanted them to think I was taking on too much.
‘But you’re doing this pet sitting on top of the care home job?’ she said.
‘That’s the thing.’ I had to look down at my plate now. They were both looking so worried – what an idiot I’d been for inventing that job in the first place. They were such nice people, and I felt so stupid and guilty about it now. ‘I’ve enjoyed the pet sitting so much, I think I might concentrate on that, and hand in my notice at the care home. I realise I might not earn so much, but I don’t want you thinking I’m going to default on my rent or anything like that. I’ll make sure I can pay—’
Somehow.
Lauren put down her knife and fork and reached out to put a hand over mine, saying that I mustn’t worry, that she and Jon trusted me and would help me all they could by recommending me to their friends.
‘I’m glad you’re not working nights and days at the care home,’ she went on. ‘I’ve been really worried about it. I feel kind of responsible for you, Emma. You’re here all alone, a long way from your family and I think it’s very brave of you to start up something like this on your own. It’s a great idea, though – you’re starting in time for when people book their summer holidays, and realise there’s no cattery or kennels around here any more. I really hope you get lots more bookings and make a real success of it.’
My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t bear her being so nice to me. I didn’t deserve it. But I was relieved finally to be telling the truth, or a very small part of the truth, anyway, to at least two people. The actual truth, of course, was that I hadn’t even thought too seriously about looking for more pet-sitting work. I’d planned to go back to the proper job hunt and just look after pets in the meantime, if anyone asked me. But Lauren had made a really good point. There was apparently a pet-sitting gap in the market here in Crickleford at the moment, and people were getting to know about me. Why not go for it and make it my real job? The thought was exciting as well as a little bit scary.
I went on to tell Lauren and Jon what had happened the previous night with the break-in, and everyone, even Holly, gave up on dinner altogether. Lauren and Jon sat open-mouthed, staring at me as I described Pongo’s barking, finding Josh in the kitchen, and the police taking him away.
‘Good lord!’ Jon said when I’d finished. ‘You’ll be the local heroine when this gets out.’
‘But I don’t want anything like that,’ I told him hurriedly. ‘Please, don’t let anyone make a big thing about it.’
‘It could help your new business, Emma,’ Lauren pointed out.
‘Maybe. But … well, I’d find it embarrassing.’ I looked down at my plate again. ‘I don’t like fuss.’
They shook their heads but said they understood.
‘If it was that Andy from the paper shop behind it all,’ Lauren said thoughtfully, ‘it does make sense. He’d have access to the newspaper delivery accounts. He’d know when people cancel because they’re going to be away on holiday or in hospital, so he could assume their house was going to be empty.’
‘Oh!’ I said, suddenly remembering. ‘I saw someone hanging around outside here when you were on holiday. I should have told you, but I thought I was just being silly.’
‘That was probably one of the Neighbourhood Watch people,’ Jon said with a shrug. ‘We’re members, and we always let the others know when we’re going away, so they can keep an eye on the house.’ He stopped, raising his eyes at Lauren. ‘Josh’s parents are members too.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded slowly. ‘So he’d know which houses are being watched, and tell Andy to avoid them. It’s suddenly all very obvious, isn’t it? Well, don’t worry, Emma, we won’t spread it around, about you being at Pat’s the other night, if you don’t want us to.’
However, as Hattie had predicted, I wasn’t going to get away with it that easily in Crickleford. The next morning as I walked Pongo, three different people stopped me because they recognised him.
‘It’s Pongo, the dog who caught the burglar!’ they all said, and before I could nod and smile and make my escape, they were telling other people around them, shaking me by the hand, asking my name and congratulating me, however much I tried to explain that I really hadn’t done anything. Lauren had been right, too: by the time I headed back to Pat’s house, two more people had asked me about my pet sitting – how much I charged and whether I took on cats as well as dogs – and said they’d let me know their holiday dates.
‘Come on in, my luvver, have a cup and a cake on the house,’ Annie from Ye Olde Crickle Tea Shoppe said when I passed, just as she was changing her menu in the window. ‘Ah, don’t thee freck ’bout ’im!’ she added when I pointed out that I had a muddy dog with me. ‘’Ee be a hero round here now. Mind the ruddy step this time, don’t be falling arsy-varsy like thee did backalong.’
I must have been in Devon longer than I thought – I could almost understand her now. Of course, it was a mistake to let my eagerness for a hot chocolate and a toasted teacake get the better of me, because once we were inside and safely down ye olde bloody steppe, the entire clientele let out a cheer, and people were knocking over their chairs in their haste to pet Pongo, pat me on the back, and congratulate us. Poor Pongo had reverted to type, pulling on his lead to slink away from the noisy crowd and cower under a table – which, of course, caused hilarity all around.
‘I thought he was supposed to be brave!’ one woman laughed.
‘He’s more scared of us lot than he was of the burglar!’ someone else said.
‘Have you heard the latest?’ another woman called out, after I’d sat myself down and done my best to calm my nervous canine hero. The woman raised her voice so that everyone could hear her. ‘They’ve arrested that Andy from the paper shop too. They’re saying he was the one behind it all, and he roped in poor young Josh to help him.’
Straight away, other people were joining in, saying it was no surprise, that this Andy had always been in trouble, even when he was still at school, and ‘poor young Josh’ was, unfortunately, easily led. While I demolished my drink and my teacake, I was conscious of people nudging each other and muttering together about their dogs who’d been booked into the ill-fated Dribstone Boarding Kennels, their cats and their rabbits and guinea pigs who were, in the past, looked after by the woman who’d moved to Bath. People were raising their eyebrows and nodding to each other. I had a feeling that I might be getting some more bookings before too long. And that if I actually had a job in a care home to give up, I might even be looking to do so sooner rather than later.
Back at the house, I’d only just finished showering Pongo and myself and getting dressed again when there was a knock at the door. I opened it cautiously, and nearly fainted with surprise to find the young man I’d encountered before on Castle Hill, and again outside Bilberry Cottage taking photos, standing on the doorstep giving me a devastatingly charming smile.
‘Emma?’ he said brightly.
‘Er … yes.’ I frowned.
‘Sorry to bother you like this. I got your name from the lady next door – I knocked there when you weren’t in—’
‘What’s this about?’ I interrupted, wondering if he, too, wanted a pet looking after. It was one thing being approached by people for work when I was out and about, but I didn’t want them coming to look for me at other people’s houses.
‘Well, I expect you realise you’ve become something of a celebrity around here, since you—’
‘No!’ I almost shouted it. ‘I’m absolutely not a celebrity! I’ve never been a celebrity!’ My voice was shaking. I must have sounded like a madwoman. ‘And if you don’t mind, I’ve got a dog to look after, so—’
‘Pongo. Yes. I’ve heard all about how he caught the burglar breaking into the house.’
I suddenly realised he was holding a notebook. He’d glanced at it to check Pongo’s name. What the hell …?
‘What do you want?’ I asked more quietly. ‘What’s this got to do with you?’
‘I’m Matt Sorrentino,’ he said, holding out his hand to me and treating me to another lovely smile, ‘and I’m a local—’
I was so distracted by the undeniable appeal of that smile, that I accepted his handshake without thinking. Close up, he wasn’t like Shane at all – his build was similar but his colouring was lighter, and he was actually even better-looking.
‘Estate agent. I know,’ I interrupted him.
‘What? No!’ He laughed. ‘Not guilty! What made you think that?’
‘You were taking pictures. Outside Bilberry Cottage.’ I nodded down the lane. ‘And I just assumed …’
‘Oh.’ His smile faltered a little. ‘No, I was just … well, I just kind of like that cottage, that’s all.’ I thought he looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment, but he shrugged and went on: ‘Look, I wondered if we could have a little chat? Would that be OK? I’ve obviously heard all about your amazing episode last night with the break-in, and … um … Pongo …’ He tailed off. ‘Can I come in?’
‘What for?’ I felt totally confused now. He wanted to chat? Was he interested in me, or something? I felt a brief flicker of pleasure. It had been a while since anyone of the opposite sex had paid me any attention – unless you counted Josh. And this Matt Sorrentino did seem nice, not to say very fit and attractive. I remembered how he’d lingered, seeming to want to talk, on our first meeting up on Castle Hill. Had I got a new admirer? It would be nice to be asked out on a date … although I’d have to be careful about all the lies I’d told people …
His smile had wavered a little. ‘Well, as I said, I’d just like to chat about what happened last night. Don’t worry, I realise we can’t give the names of any suspects at this stage, but people around here have been so concerned about all the burglaries, they’re really chuffed somebody’s been caught. So I’m sure they’d love to hear your side of the story, Emma.’
‘Oh.’ I tried to hide my disappointment. Not a new admirer, then. ‘You’re with the police, are you?’
‘No.’ He gave me a puzzled look. ‘Didn’t I say? Sorry. I’m a local journalist, working for the Crickleford Chronicle, and—’
He didn’t get any further. I not only slammed the door in his face, I locked it, bolted it, ran and hid in the back bedroom, and stayed there for the rest of the day, cuddling Pongo and fighting back tears. I just couldn’t believe it. After everything I’d done – leaving home, cutting myself off from my family, hiding away in the most remote little town I could think of, making up stories about myself and even dyeing my bloody hair – all it had taken was one little episode with a dog and a stupid kid trying to be a burglar, and once again I had journalists sniffing around me, wanting to ask questions. How long would it take before a little chat about last night became a probe into my background? How long before I tripped up and said something that aroused his suspicion, and the next thing I knew, it wouldn’t just be the local papers, it’d be the regional ones, then the nationals, then it’d be the TV cameras, and my poor family back home would be bombarded all over again – just because I’d been taken in by a handsome face and a cute smile?
It was no good. The damage was done. Matt Sorrentino wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I knew only too well what these people were like – I shuddered at the memory of previous occasions in the States when the paparazzi had hung around our apartment for days, intruding into every aspect of our lives, following me down the street, hiding in bushes deliberately to take photos of me when I wasn’t looking my best. And now they had something really juicy to get their teeth into – I knew from the way they’d surrounded my parents’ house in Loughton over Christmas how desperate they were for details of my break-up with Shane. I couldn’t bear it happening again here in Crickleford. I was going to have to move on, and the sooner the better. Just as I was settling down here, just as things were looking good for me, just as I’d finally started doing something with my life, something worthwhile, something I enjoyed, something that was my own at last – I was going to have to give it all up and start again.
I gave Pongo an extra cuddle and stroke as I said goodbye that evening and crept out into the dusk, looking nervously around me in the shadows. I wasn’t going to come back tonight – I hoped Pongo would be all right on his own just this once. Purple Hattie seemed to be his friend now, so I didn’t think she’d call the police if he howled – and Pat would be home the next morning. I’d phone her and make some excuse for not calling in; hopefully she could pay my money directly into my account. Then I’d have to pay Lauren for the next month – it was the least I could do, letting her down like this, when she’d been so kind to me.
As I trudged back past Bilberry Cottage for the last time I sighed, thinking how ridiculous it had been to imagine I might end up living somewhere like that. I needed to wake up and realise I was never going to shake of
f my past unless I completely changed my identity and, perhaps, went to live even further afield. The highlands of Scotland, perhaps, or the west coast of Ireland. Or somewhere in Africa. That’d do it.
‘Goodbye, Bilberry Cottage,’ I whispered.
And goodbye to my dreams.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
With grateful thanks once again to Sharon Whelan, this time for her advice about rescuing a pony. And to Sue Viney for her first-hand knowledge about keeping house rabbits! And as always, to everyone at Ebury for all their hard work in bringing my stories to the readers.
Read on for an extract from the next instalment:
The Pets at Primrose Cottage:
Part Two
New Beginnings
Coming soon
CHAPTER NINE
As soon as I got back to my little blue bedroom in Primrose Cottage, I started packing my bags. I was so upset it was hard to keep from crying, but it seemed I had absolutely no alternative but to give up my new life here in Crickleford and start again somewhere else. I hadn’t yet decided where. I thought perhaps I’d just get the morning bus back to Newton Abbott the next day, jump on the first train that came along and see where I ended up. I grabbed the last few of my tops off their hangers, chucked them into the suitcase and pulled open the first drawer of the chest. And then I paused, staring at a parcel wrapped in bright red and yellow paper with an elephant design.
It was my birthday present for Holly: the new book by her favourite author, Julia Donaldson. I’d picked it out from the Crickle Bookshop just a few days ago, and I’d been looking forward to seeing the smile on her face when she opened it, together with the elephant-themed birthday card I’d chosen, with its bright red ‘I AM 4’ badge pinned on the front. I took the parcel out and held it against my heart, blinking back tears. I’d already become so fond of little Holly, and her parents. How could I even consider leaving before her birthday? But how could I stay, when there was now a local journalist pursuing me? It was only going to get worse.
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