“What are you going to do with him when he’s better?” Zoe asked.
“How do you mean?”
“Well, are you going to find a home for him?”
“Well, unfortunately we have no control over that. We’ll give the animal shelters a call – hopefully they’ll be able to take him – but they are inundated with strays at the moment.”
“Hopefully? But – but, what if they’re not – you’re not going to put him down are you?” She was horrified.
“I’m sorry, Zoe, it’s not my call.”
“Right.” Zoe swallowed. She hung up feeling desperate. The poor little guy, his worries were only just beginning. If she didn’t live in an apartment she would keep him herself.
She checked in her notebook and found Steve’s number where he had scribbled it down. Even his handwriting seemed friendly and confident.
“Hello?” he answered cheerily.
“Hi, Steve – it’s Zoe – the girl you met last night – we rescued the puppy?”
“Ah, Zoe – how are you? Have you any news on the poor little creature?”
She could hear the windy noise of the outdoors in the background. “He’s going to be okay – he’s broken his leg and he’s quite malnourished but the nurse, Carla, said he is doing well. She said he’s a gorgeous little thing.”
“Well, thank God for that, I was worried sick about him. I hate seeing an animal in pain like that.”
“But, Steve –”
“What?”
“Well, if the animal shelters can’t take him because of overcrowding, they might have to put him down!”
“Jesus – that’s awful.”
“I’d take him myself but I live in an apartment and he looks like he could be a big dog but I’m going to ask around everyone I know to see if they would give him a home. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being put to sleep. Maybe you could put the word out as well?”
“We can’t let that happen to him! I’ll ask around the farmers at the market – surely one of them would take him in.”
“Oh, I hope so! I’m going to put fliers up on the way home too. Okay, well, let me know how it goes. It’s my mission now to help him.”
“You’re a good sort, Zoe.”
She was taken aback with the surprise compliment. “Thanks! So are you!”
When she got off the phone to Steve, she felt marginally better. Surely between the two of them they could find a home for the puppy, especially him with all his farming contacts – he would have to know someone out there who would take him in. She sent an email around to all her friends to let them know and she designed some posters to put in the local supermarket and shops to look for a home for him.
When she came in from work that evening, she had got changed into her tracksuit and Ugg boots and was just putting her feet up when the buzzer on her apartment door went. She looked through the peephole and saw Steve’s face smiling back at her. Oh God, what the hell was he doing calling to her apartment? He’d better not be a psycho – she’d enough drama in her life now without having to deal with a lunatic nut-bar that thought it was okay to call on her because they had rescued a dog together. She cursed herself for being so stupid – what had she been doing going for dinner with a complete stranger anyway?
She pulled back the door, making sure the security chain was kept on.
“Steve?” she said cautiously.
“Surprise!” Steve was grinning from ear to ear.
She looked down and he was holding the rescued puppy in his arms.
“Sorry for calling unexpectedly but I wanted to surprise you. Say hello to my new dog!”
“Your new dog!”
“Well, after you told me that he could end up in a dog pound or worse, I couldn’t let that happen to him. And, sure, I’ve been meaning to get a dog for a while now anyway – I’ve loads of space. And then this little guy happens to come along. Sure, I couldn’t not take him!”
“Oh that’s wonderful news, I’m so happy he’s found a home!” Zoe said as she undid the security chain and opened the door. “Do you want to come in?” In fairness he seemed like a harmless sort.
“Sure, I’ve loads of fields around the house for him to roam in and he can keep me company driving around the country,” Steve said as he stepped inside.
He was dressed the same way as the last time, wearing his wax jacket again, but this time with a navy sweater and beige cords. The look suited him – she could imagine him standing behind his table at the markets, selling his produce.
He followed Zoe into the kitchen and sat himself on one of the highchairs at her breakfast bar.
“He looks better already.” Zoe stroked the chocolate-brown fur of the dog. His front left leg was bandaged up but other than that he looked quite content where he was snuggled in Steve’s arms. “What breed do you think he is?”
“Well, I definitely think there’s a bit of a Labrador in him – especially around his face, but God only knows what else.”
“He’s gorgeous!”
“Well, what are we going to call him?”
“We?”
“Sure – as his honorary mother, I thought you should be involved in the naming ceremony.”
“Well, I think he should have a proper name – not Lucky or Patch, a real name.”
“I completely agree – how about Dave?”
“Dave? Where on earth did you come up with that from?”
“He looks like a Dave, don’t you think?”
Zoe looked at the sleeping puppy. “Mmmh, I actually think you’re right. It suits him. Hello, Dave!” She cooed to the sleeping puppy. “He is so cute – I just love him!”
“Well, you know you can have visitation rights whenever you want.”
Zoe laughed. “That’s good to know!”
11
Today was the day that Arthur Pilkington, the managing director of Sofa World and his senior management team were coming into the offices of A1 Adverts to listen to Emma pitch for their business. Somehow she had managed to converge all the words that had been swimming around in her head for the last few weeks and put them together into what she hoped would be a winning presentation. She had tried to put her heart and soul into it like she did for every one of A1’s clients but this time she just couldn’t get enthusiastic about the pitch at all. Maureen had asked her if she was sure she was okay to do the presentation, saying that she had no problem stepping in herself, but Emma was determined to do it. She had gone through the pitch with Maureen already and she had given her the thumbs-up, so she supposed it was as good as it ever was going to be.
She had a black coffee in hand as she read and re-read the presentation. She visualised in her head the level of her intonation and pitch. She tried to cover all the angles that Arthur might pick to come at her with questions: budgets, target markets, efficacy of TV ads over radio. She was making sure that she had every detail engrained on her brain. She would be prepared.
Five minutes before they were due to start, Maureen popped her head over her desk partition.
“All set?”
“Uh-huh, think so.”
“As I said before, I have no problem stepping in – are you sure you’re okay to do this?”
“I’m fine,” Emma replied through gritted teeth.
“Okay, well, deep breaths then – I’ve every confidence in you, Emma.”
Emma walked into the board room with her shoulders squared. She was wearing her favourite red-suede stiletto heels and grey-tweed pencil-skirt with matching jacket. That was a trick she always used: she knew if she felt good about her appearance it would give her that extra edge of confidence. She took a deep breath and greeted the rotund Arthur Pilkington and his team with a warm smile and a firm handshake and introduced herself and Maureen to the group. Her calm, collected, composed exterior belied her racing heart.
Maureen initiated some general chit-chat for a few minutes about how times were hard for businesses at the moment, while Emma nodded s
ympathetically. Soon, though, all eyes were on her as they waited for her to start. She stood up and turned on the projector. Her heart was beating nineteen to the dozen, so loud she was sure everyone in the room could hear it.
“Gentlemen, thank you so much for coming here today and for giving A1 Adverts the opportunity to pitch for your business. We appreciate in these cost-conscious times that now more than ever customers need to see value for their money, or as the Americans say ‘bang for their buck’.”
She knew it was weak but the men laughed and she was grateful.
“So we are going to present to you now what A1 Adverts can do for Sofa World and how we can work together to ensure Sofa World is the number-one sofa-store of choice in the Irish furniture market.”
Maureen flashed her an encouraging smile.
“We’ve looked at how all Sofa World sofas are designed by a team of in-house designers but the main competitive advantage you have over other sofa retailers is the fact that these designs are so competitive on price. Quality at the right price. So without further ado I would like to introduce you to the concept we believe sums up the core values of the Sofa World Christmas campaign.”
She could hear an intake of breath from Arthur Pilkington as he waited with bated breath to see what tag line she had come up with. He was sweating profusely and removed the handkerchief that decorated the breast-pocket of his suit and used it to mop his brow. She could almost physically feel his sense of anticipation.
Stated simply on a slide with a black background in gold lettering – the colour of Sofa World’s company logo – was the tag line: “Quality Money Can Buy”
There was silence in the room, no one even dared to breathe. She looked at Arthur whose forehead was creased downwards as he contemplated the tag line.
Oh shit, he hates it.
She looked at Maureen who was looking back at her with the same worried expression.
Everyone stayed silent, all waiting for Arthur to utter his verdict. After what seemed like an age, he eventually spoke.
“I like it!”
Arthur was smiling and looking around at his team to make sure they were too. His team of yes-men instantly perked up and began agreeing with him. Whispers of “fantastic” and “perfect” crept around the room.
“‘Quality Money Can Buy!’” he repeated. “Yeah, I think it captures the essence of Sofa World perfectly. Quality Money Can Buy. Yes, indeed. I do – I like it.”
The relief was palpable, not just between Maureen and Emma, but between Arthur and his team. It was obvious that the team didn’t like it when Mr Pilkington was in a bad mood. If he was happy, their lives were easier.
“And what about the TV campaign?” Arthur shouted boisterously at Emma.
Emma’s confidence was now buoyed up by their reactions. “Of course, Mr Pilkington. I will now show you our proposed TV campaign.” She thanked Jesus and all the saints in heaven that she had done this. Normally it wasn’t required in an initial pitch but she had learned from Arthur’s ad manager’s emails that he was a demanding individual and she had dealt with his type before. ‘Expect the unexpected’ was her motto when it came to these sorts.
She pressed play on the projector, which flashed to a thirty-second film showing a homely mother, maybe 5 feet 5 inches in height, with a shapely figure. She was dressed in a cashmere cardigan and beige slacks, and she cuddled a five-year-old blond-haired angel in the crook of her arm as they both leant back into a plush sofa. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree twinkled in the corner and the log fire crackled. The mother was reading a story to the child before his heavy lids closed for the Land of Nod. Then it cut to a full-screen image where a voice-over in a reassuring tone stated: ‘Quality Money Can Buy.’
Arthur punched the air with his fist. “That’s it, that’s it!”
His team, now having the sign they needed, also started to whoop and holler in agreement.
Emma stared up at the screen for a few seconds too long after the clip had finished. She had played this video over and over when she was preparing her pitch but suddenly now she felt her throat go dry. All the men in the room plus Maureen were staring at her expectantly. She wasn’t sure whether it was because she felt vulnerable in front of these people or stressed about doing the pitch, but her eyes began to fill with tears. She could see Maureen mouthing at her to continue.
“Well, gentlemen, has –” She tried her best to sound normal but her voice was too high and threatened to break. “I’m sorry – I have to . . .” She couldn’t keep it together. Running out of the room, she left Maureen and the team from Sofa World stunned in her wake. She could hear Maureen apologising profusely behind her.
She ran back down the corridor towards the bathroom where she stood in front of the sink sobbing. She splashed cold water on her face as she stood there crying. Thank God the rest of the cubicles were empty.
Moments later, she heard the door swing open. It was Maureen.
“Look, I’m sorry, Maureen – I should have let you do it. I’m sorry I ruined it,” she whispered.
“No, it’s okay – it’s only to be expected – I knew I shouldn’t have left you on your own to do it – I should have stepped in and given you a hand.”
Emma shook her head. “I should have been able to do it – I don’t know – I had gone over it a thousand times in the last week and I was fine with it but the video clip just got me there. I’m sorry – I don’t know what happened.”
“Look, you were doing a fantastic job and I could see they were impressed – in fact, you had practically done the whole thing – the only thing remaining was the questions and I could handle them.”
“I’m sorry for landing you in it.”
“Nonsense, he had a few general ones about the cost of a TV campaign and whether I felt the price point was right for the target market. Nothing I wasn’t able for. They seemed impressed, and Arthur nearly shook the hand off me on the way out so that’s a good sign.” Maureen put her arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, Emma, it’s only to be expected.”
Maureen handed her a tissue and Emma blew her nose.
“Do you want to head home early – maybe have an early night?” She smiled kindly.
Emma shook her head defiantly. “No, I’m better off in here, keeping busy. But thanks anyway.” She sniffed and dabbed at her nose.
“Are you sure?”
Emma nodded.
After six Maureen turned off the lights in her office and came by Emma’s cubicle, while wrapping her scarf double around her neck.
“Emma, love, I really think you should be heading home now. You’ve had a tough day.”
“Yeah, I’m just finishing up now.”
It was a lie but it was easier to pacify Maureen than start up her concern again.
She killed time surfing the web and eventually, around eight, when there was no one else left in A1 Adverts, she decided she’d better call it a night and head home.
12
Some days after, Steve rang Zoe with an update on how Dave was doing. He told her how it was like having a small baby in the house and that now he knew what new parents were talking about when they complained about sleepless nights. He had tucked Dave up in a basket with a hot-water bottle wrapped in a blanket but he could still hear him whimpering from the kitchen. He didn’t have the heart to leave him like that so he had ended up taking him into his bed. The toilet training was also a bit hit-and-miss but all in all they were getting on well. Then nervously he asked her if she wanted to meet up at the weekend to see Dave.
“You can try some of my pâté and tell me what you think?” he added.
“Sure,” Zoe agreed while thinking in her head again how strange the whole situation was. But after she had hung up the phone and was thinking about him, she found herself wanting to see him. His personality was infectious, being around him made you feel good about yourself. He had a natural way with people and he was charming without being smarmy. He was easy-going too, like nothin
g would ever faze him. He had a funny way about him – you couldn’t not like him.
Over dinner the next evening she told Emma the whole story about Dave being thrown out of a car window, their trip to the vet and their dinner afterwards. Emma had been amazed by the irony of meeting someone in the street.
“He must like you,” Emma said.
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, he wouldn’t be asking you to meet up again at the weekend if he wasn’t interested.”
“I’m not sure, Emma. I’d say he’s the kind of person that would be like that with everyone he meets, y’know.”
“Are you going to go?”
“I think so – I know it sounds mad but he seems like a genuine sort.”
“Well, who knows where it could lead.”
Zoe laughed.
* * *
Zoe set off on Saturday morning with the directions that Steve had given her. She turned off the main road onto a narrow winding back road with only room for the width of one car. She could see the sea in the distance with foamy white waves topping it. The land rose up as she drove down the winding roads which weaved through the stone-walled fields. The place was so remote she hadn’t passed a house for miles. Not for the first time, she began to doubt herself: what was she doing going driving out into the middle of nowhere to meet up with a man she had only met for the first time last week? She pulled over into a gateway at the side of the road and rang Steve.
“Hi there, are you on your way?” His voice was friendly and instantly she felt better.
“Well, I think I might be a bit lost – I followed the directions you gave me but it just seems a bit . . . remote?”
“Oh, people always think they’ve gone wrong – but keep following the road straight until the headland dips down to the sea and you’ll see a turn up to the right, with my sign on it.”
“Okay, well, I don’t think I’m too far away then.”
“Great, I’ll put the kettle on so.”
She pulled out in her car again and continued along the road. It really was beautiful out here, so quiet and peaceful. Living in the city she often forgot just how loud and in your face it could be. She finally saw a swinging sign for ‘McCredden’s Artisan Foods’ and she turned up an impossibly narrow track that had grass growing up the middle. Finally, a whitewashed cottage with small blue-painted windows came into view on the headland. When she looked down to the right she could see the sun glistening off the calm sea beneath her. It was amazing. She swung into the gravel driveway and Steve came out of the door to greet her.
In a Moment Page 5