Never the Bride (Dilbury Village #1)

by Charlotte Fallowfield

  My God. I’d never done a poo so big before, with absolutely no effort at all. It had curled back on itself and the water level in the toilet seemed to be a few inches higher from the dead weight.

  ‘Wow, I’ve probably lost a whole stone laying that bad boy,’ I proudly observed as I wiped, then gingerly stood up, expecting to need to sit down quickly again. Nothing happened, however, and my tummy pains had miraculously gone, just like that. Crisis had been averted. I happily pulled up my clothes, then tugged on the chain that dangled down from the old-fashioned, wall-mounted cistern and went to wash my hands, which took a while with the slow trickling water. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, I peeked back in the toilet bowl to make sure I’d not left any remnants and gasped. My poo was still sitting exactly where it had been, intact, but the water in the bowl had risen dangerously high. ‘Crap! I’ve blocked the damn toilet,’ I moaned, completely mortified.

  I quickly looked around for a toilet brush. I was going to have to break this beast’s back and hope that enough water drained so I could try and flush again, but wouldn’t you know it, posh people don’t have toilet brushes. I wondered if they had special staff who came and wiped their bottoms and cleaned the toilet for them after as I started to panic. I couldn’t risk flushing again while it was still in there or I’d flood the bathroom. Equally, I couldn’t leave a one-foot turd as a surprise gift for my host either.

  I searched the room, desperately trying to find something that would help me, even a sanitary bag that I could try and scoop the poop into to put in the bin, but I was shit outta luck, pun certainly not intended. I gulped and wished I’d grabbed a handbag before I dashed out, I could have shoved it in there. As it was, I had nothing, and it wasn’t like I could fish it out and take it down to join us for afternoon tea. Not that it wouldn’t take up an entire seat on its own, it was that humongous.

  I looked back in the toilet, hoping it might have slithered away, but it was still there.

  Brown.

  Immobile.

  Taunting me.

  I sighed as I looked around the room, wondering if I could hide it somewhere, then scuttled out to look up and down the corridor, hoping to see a pot plant I could bury it in. No such luck. I returned to the toilet and stood staring down at it, running out of options.

  ‘Window, Abbie, toss it out of the window,’ I exclaimed as inspiration struck. Hopefully the groundsman would just assume it was one of the beagles who’d been backed up for a while. I threw the leaded window open and groaned as I turned to face the toilet and rolled up my jumper sleeve. I tried to make myself a toilet paper glove, then took a deep breath as I reached into the toilet and grasped the stubborn monstrosity. Turned out, surprisingly, that a toilet paper glove wasn’t much use at all, and I whimpered as it fell apart and I was left clutching the offending item, praying it was going to hold its shape as I hoisted it out of the water. ‘Of all the lows in your life, Abbie Carter, you just sank to a whole new level, literally,’ I scolded myself, as I quickly tossed it out and slammed the window shut.

  I pulled the chain, relieved to see the water level go down this time, then grabbed the toilet roll off the hook, feeling physically sick as I desperately wiped my wet hand and arm, then ran to the sink to scrub myself as hard as I could. Georgie’s text tone of Who Let The Dogs Out started ringing in my back pocket, but I didn’t have time to answer it. I’d been up here way too long, so I dried myself and hurried back downstairs to rejoin them.

  As I walked through the lounge and into the orangery, it was completely silent, so quiet you could almost hear a pin drip. My God, what had happened while I’d been gone? Georgie had a horrified look on her face as she stared at me, her blue eyes as wide as a Frisbee.

  ‘What?’ I exclaimed, following her line of sight as she slowly pointed upwards and dragged her eyes up to where she was gesturing.

  I gasped and felt my cheeks turn deep scarlet to be faced with my large poo, which was slowly making its way down the glass roof of the orangery, leaving a sticky brown trail behind it. Max was staring up at it as well, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to think of some appropriate posh-person words to say. No wonder nothing was coming out of his mouth. I mean, what did one say when a guest’s turd was doing the slalom down your conservatory roof? Lady Kirkland had just frozen, mid-bite of an unfortunately timed chocolate-dipped Viennese biscuit, as she stared up at it, looking as if she was about to pass out from the shock. My chance of an invite to this year’s summer fête was well and truly screwed. ‘Crap!’ I muttered.

  ‘It’s not funny,’ I moaned, dropping my forehead to my freshly scrubbed arms as I sat at my kitchen island. Sumo was safely curled up on his armchair, exhausted from his unusual exercise, as Georgie cackled in front of me.

  ‘I can’t believe you had the balls to try and pass off the blame on an oversized pigeon,’ she howled.

  ‘Well, what was I supposed to do? Turn around and run out of the front door and leave you holding Sumo and my trainers while you tried to cover for me?!’

  ‘Well, if you’d answered your phone, I did send a text saying not to come back in!’

  ‘I was seriously flustered, Georgie. Do you think they believed me?’

  ‘Abbie, seriously, no human being has ever laid anything that big, let alone a pigeon. No wonder you had tummy ache. They knew it was you and were too polite, or shocked, to say anything. It’s not every day a turd lands on your glass roof as you’re sipping Earl Grey from fine chintz cups, with the butler on standby. And you didn’t help matters by trying to back up your totally unbelievable story by rambling on about the fascinating facts of the different-sized animal droppings in comparison to their size. I thought Lady Kirkland was going to have a heart attack, and the look on the poor butler’s face was priceless!’

  ‘I was stressed, I ramble when I’m stressed. I can’t believe I didn’t look first to see there was a glass roof below when I threw it out of the window. I mean, what were the chances?’ I groaned.

  ‘Well, next time you’re about to try another round of turd tossing, which I think should be introduced as a new event at the fête this year, check what’s below first. I nearly died when it splatted above us and I looked up.’

  ‘You nearly died? How do you think I felt when I walked in to find you all staring at it?’

  ‘On the plus side, other than being a bit gooey around the edges, it looked pretty healthy, thick and firm in the centre, conker brown, no random undigested sweet corn or mushrooms in it,’ she giggled.

  ‘Not helping, Georgie! Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this, please,’ I pleaded.

  ‘Ok, from this moment, I promise my lips are sealed,’ she nodded, miming a zip across her lips.

  ‘What do you mean, this moment?’ I exclaimed, sitting up to face her. Surely she hadn’t told anyone.

  ‘Ermmm, I may have already texted Daphne.’

  ‘No!’ I groaned, as if my humiliation couldn’t reach new depths. I went to cover my face with my hands, then changed my mind and reached for the antibacterial hand gel bottle instead. I was going through it like water, unable to forget the horror of having touched that poo and having my hand in the toilet.

  ‘Sorry, but it was too funny not to share.’

  ‘Great,’ I sighed, shuddering at the sound of the gel as it squirted out of the bottle, sounding like a fart. I’d had as much toilet humour, or non-humour, as I could take for one day.

  ‘And Charlie,’ Georgie added with a grimace.

  ‘Georgie!’ I scolded, shooting her a glare as I slathered the gel on my hands.

  ‘I’d maybe pretend to be out next time Heath’s due to call around, too.’ Her grimace soon disappeared as she roared with laughter when my jaw dropped. Heath? She’d told Heath?!

  ‘I hate you, Georgie Basset!’

  ‘Are you ok, Chubbers?’ I asked, after he whined when I started turning out the lounge lights. It was like someone had pulled his plug out. All of that youth
ful puppy energy he’d had earlier was gone. He hadn’t eaten any dinner and he looked weak and exhausted. I’d had to carry him home from Lord Kirkland’s house as he’d been so tired after his adventure. ‘Here, let me put the blanket on you so you’re nice and warm. If you’re no better in the morning, we’ll call Bradley, ok?’

  He rested his chin on the seat cushion as I wrapped him up in his blue and white checked fleece blanket, then bent down to kiss his head. He lifted his sad, big brown eyes up to meet mine, making me blink a few times to get rid of some tears. I kissed him again and headed upstairs to brush my teeth. When I pulled the bathroom door behind me and walked across the landing towards my bedroom door, I heard a loud whine, then a pitiful bark, followed by a load of scrabbling and panting. I turned on the light and jogged down the first set of stairs, then turned the corner, and was stunned to find Sumo had made it partway up. He’d given up and was snuffling as he lay uncomfortably with his belly on the edge of one step, his back legs holding him up on the step below and his front paws stretched out in front of him on the one above, as he looked up at me.

  ‘What are you doing? Are you trying to come up?’ I queried, as I gently lifted him up and went to take him back down, but he whined again and gave me a pleading look that was normally only reserved for his dinner. ‘You want to come to bed with me?’ I asked, and was answered with a stinky wet tongue lashing over my cheek.

  I took a shaky breath, fighting back my tears. He’d never slept with me, he’d never wanted to, and right now I wasn’t seeing it as a good thing. Amidst much protests on his behalf, I carried him back down and grabbed a few of his nappies from the utility room, and a stainless steel bowl, then took him up and settled him down on top of my duvet. His eyes roamed around, taking in the new surroundings as I got him dressed in his doggie liners and went to fill up his bowl with some water, which I set on the floor next to the bed. He’d have to wake me up if he wanted some, as it was too high for him to get down. I climbed in and turned off the light and lay on my side, reaching out to give him a head rub. He snuffled and shuffled his way over to lie against me, then licked my hand and let out a heavy sigh at the same time I did.

  I waited by the open front door, pacing back and forth as I breathed in the cold darkness, waiting for Bradley. I’d barely slept. Sumo always snored when he slept, but instead he was wheezing badly. When I turned on the light, worried to death about him, he looked so scared as he caught my concerned gaze. I’d rung the vet immediately, even though it was 3 a.m., then I’d rung Georgie in tears. Ever an amazing best friend, she’d arrived in minutes, her normally perfectly coifed hair tangled, still wearing her red pyjamas covered in black Scottie dogs. She was upstairs with Sumo now, giving him a belly and chest massage, hoping it would calm him down. I took a deep breath and dialled Miller’s cell, not sure if I was disappointed or relieved to hear it go to voicemail.

  ‘Miller, it’s me, Abbie. I’m sorry to ring, I know I said I’d give you space, but … but it’s Sumo. He’s … I don’t think he has long,’ I choked, a fresh batch of tears rolling over my lower lashes and stinging my cheeks. ‘I just thought you’d … you’d want to know.’ I hung up and sobbed as I wrapped my arms around myself. I wanted him here right now. He had a better bond with Sumo than any of us had. I hated the thought of him never having the chance to say goodbye.

  I sniffed and dragged my arm across my eyes as Bradley pulled up in his small van and grabbed a bag out of the boot before hurrying over.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ I sobbed, when he told us that it was time to let Sumo go after he’d examined him. ‘He was eating and running earlier, running so fast we couldn’t catch him. He even made it into Lord Kirkland’s koi pond.’

  ‘I can’t explain it, Abbie,’ Bradley said gently as he took one of my hands and smothered it in his. ‘Sometimes this happens with humans, too. They take a massive turn for the better, almost finding a new lease of life in their last few hours, then suddenly it leaves them as their body shuts down.’

  ‘Oh, Abbie, I know it’s heart breaking, but think about what an amazing last day he’s had,’ Georgie gently reminded me. ‘He ate until he was nearly sick, he rode the Sumo Express, and he ran, he actually ran and went back somewhere he remembered loving as a puppy. He had a bath, a blow-dry, then best of all he got to sleep in bed with his mum, someone he’s always loved even if he never showed it until recently. And he’s just had one of his favourite massages, too,’ she added, trying to comfort me.

  I nodded as I sniffed and went to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. What she said made sense, but it was so hard to say goodbye. I took a deep, shaky breath as I lifted him up and put him on my lap, gently stroking him. His paw nudged my hand as he licked it. I’d had thirteen months with him that I shouldn’t have had since he was diagnosed. And I’d done my best to make them a happy thirteen months for him. It just sucked that now we’d finally got close, he was leaving me.

  ‘What do I do?’ I whimpered, looking at Georgie when Bradley asked if I wanted it to happen now and at home. I wanted to wait for Miller, but what if he couldn’t come right away? I didn’t want my boy to suffer any more than he already was.

  ‘It has to be the right decision for you and Sumo, Abbie. I know you’re thinking that you want to wait for Miller, but he’s not here, and if you make the decision to deal with this now, he’s going to have to accept that you made a tough choice under difficult circumstances.’

  We all looked towards the stairs as we heard a knock on the front door, and I held my breath as Georgie ran down to see who it was, praying for a miracle, but released it to hear Daphne’s concerned voice.

  ‘Abbie?’ Bradley gently prodded. I looked back down at Sumo, who was wheezing badly in my arms, and I could tell from his eyes that he’d had enough, that he was in pain. I nodded, knowing however hard this was, I was doing what he wanted.

  ‘Let’s do it here,’ I choked. ‘But downstairs, in his favourite armchair. I want to give Daphne a chance to say goodbye, too.’ I reached up to wipe away some tears of resignation that I had to let him go.

  ‘You’re doing the right thing for him,’ Bradley nodded in a reassuring voice. I really hoped that he wasn’t lying to make me feel better.

  Thursday

  I woke up as I heard a car door slam. I was curled up on the sofa, my head on Georgie’s lap as she stroked my hair. My eyes were swollen from sobbing, my head was banging, and I was feeling pretty emotionally wiped out. Seeing Bradley finally drive away, with my boy’s body wrapped in his favourite blanket, had finished me off. Georgie had cleared away all traces of Sumo at my request, as I thought it would help. I’d only kept my favourite photo of him, riding his train in the garden. Daphne had brought a bottle of whisky over, realising what was happening when she’d seen Bradley’s van parked outside, but eventually tiredness had overcome her and she’d had to leave us to go home to her bed. Georgie and I had sat here until the sun was high in the sky, crying, then laughing, as we’d told our favourite stories of a dog named Mr. Sumo that pretty much all involved his gassiness, then we’d started crying again.

  ‘Hey, there’s some water and headache tablets here. Can you sit up to take them?’ she coaxed. I nodded and did as I was told, gulping them down.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be working?’ I sniffed when I saw that it was already midday.

  ‘I rearranged today’s appointments. You were more important and I didn’t want you to be alone right now.’

  ‘Love you,’ I murmured as I leaned over to give her a kiss.

  ‘And you know I love you back, sweetie, but now it is actually time for me to leave,’ she smiled, giving my hand a quick squeeze before she stood up.

  ‘What about not leaving me alone?’ I moaned as I looked up at her confused, feeling exceptionally needy right now.

  ‘I’m not, but you know where I am when you are,’ she said mysteriously as she headed to the lounge door. I gasped in surprise as I looked up to see a tired-looking Miller, wh
o was leaning against the lounge doorframe watching us. He gave her a hug, then stepped into the lounge as she left, with a quick smile over her shoulder at me. He didn’t have to say a word, his face said it all, as I was sure mine did. I ran to him and threw myself at him as I started sobbing again, wrapping my arms and legs around him like a vine as he held me tightly to him and kissed my hair, his cinnamon scent soothing me.

  ‘You came,’ I whimpered.

  ‘Of course I did. I’m so sorry, Abbie. I wish I could have been here for you, I know how much you loved him. We can talk later. Let me take you to bed for a few hours, you look exhausted.’

  ‘So do you,’ I snuffled as he turned and started up the stairs.

  ‘So we’ll both sleep for a while, and I’ll hold you as long as you need me to, ok?’ he murmured, kissing the top of my head again.

  ‘How does forever sound?’ I whispered, hoping that he wasn’t going to leave me, too.

  We lay in front of the fire on the sheepskin rug, a thick fur blanket on top of us, my head on Miller’s bare chest as he traced a pattern on my shoulder with his fingertips. I kept opening my mouth to ask what I wanted to know, but kept changing my mind and closing it again.

  ‘I’ll never lie to you, Abbie,’ he said quietly, lifting my hand to his lips and softly kissing the pads of my fingers. ‘The answer’s no. If it hadn’t been for Sumo, I wouldn’t have come back yet.’

  ‘Yet,’ I repeated, wondering how he knew what I’d been thinking from the moment I first saw him.

  ‘Yet,’ he said firmly. ‘We’re still in different places. You won’t move to New York and I’m still not ready to move here. Unless you’ll change your mind and agree for us to carry on as we were?’ he asked hopefully.

  ‘I can’t, Miller,’ I replied, more pain fuelling my words, pain I thought I’d released with all the tears I’d shed overnight and this morning.