Sunshine and Spaniels

by Cressida McLaughlin

  The front steps were wide, but Cat could feel Mark pressed against her, shoulders and hips touching. The sun was baking down on them, its light showing off every colour to its full – the carpet of primroses, the pastel of the houses, glossy paints on front doors, the shine of metallic cars. Cat closed her eyes and listened to the seagulls, the sound of children screaming and laughing.

  ‘Long morning?’ Mark asked.

  Cat opened her eyes. ‘A bit. The event was full on, but Joe and Polly were a huge help – and George in the café. It wasn’t a solo effort.’

  ‘He’s a strange one, George. Always seems a bit reluctant to serve me.’

  Cat smiled around the mouth of her bottle.

  ‘What? What do you know?’ Mark nudged her arm. He smelled of aftershave, something spicy, a hint of coconut.

  ‘George thinks you are a spy.’

  ‘A spy?’

  ‘Yup. A Spooky, he called you. Sitting in the café making notes, watching people. He told me to stay away from you.’

  ‘He did, did he? And what did you say?’

  He turned towards her and Cat shifted, facing him. ‘I said I’d be extra careful around you. I don’t want to get into any trouble.’

  ‘What makes you think that spending time with me will get you in trouble?’ His gaze had caught hold of hers and wouldn’t let go. She thought that telling him he radiated trouble would just encourage him, so she turned away and took a swig of her beer.

  ‘We had protesters at our event.’

  ‘Protesting against what?’ Mark laughed. ’The sea of wagging tails? Too much barking?’

  ‘Dog walkers in the park. They said it’s a recipe for disaster.’

  ‘I hope you set them straight.’

  ‘Ish. It felt quite personal, some of it. An attack against my new business, rather than dog walkers in general.’

  ‘Don’t listen to them,’ Mark said, his voice suddenly serious. He put his hand on Cat’s knee, where her dress ended, his fingertips on her skin. ‘You’ll always find people who are jealous of success. It doesn’t matter what – jobs, relationships, dreams being fulfilled. If you’re doing well, then amongst all the people who are pleased for you, there’ll be a couple who hate it.’

  ‘Always haters,’ Cat nodded.

  ‘So ignore them,’ he said. And then, so close to her ear that the hairs prickled on her neck, ‘Focus on the ones who are happy for you. Who want to spend time with you, and help you celebrate.’

  ‘Mark?’ She swallowed, turned her head and found that her lips were inches from his.

  ‘Yes?’ His hand cupped her face. His palm was hot, his thumb stroking her cheek.

  She gave a tiny shake of her head and leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft, his stubble grazing her skin, and it felt every bit as good as she’d imagined. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was enough. He sat back and frowned, as if she wasn’t who he’d expected, but then obliterated his uncertainty with a grin.

  ‘That was a surprise,’ she said.

  ‘No, it wasn’t.’

  ‘You seduced me with your beer and your picnic blanket.’

  ‘I think you were ready to be seduced.’

  Cat shrugged, smiled at him and picked up her beer. ‘Maybe I was,’ she said. Chips was panting softly, her eyes closed but her ears alert, waiting to protect her master at a moment’s notice. She clearly didn’t think Cat was a threat.

  ‘Maybe that wasn’t enough.’ He put his hand back on her knee, his fingers tracing her skin, slipping under the hem of her dress. ‘We don’t have to stop there.’ He brushed his lips against Cat’s neck.

  She closed her eyes as a shiver ran the length of her spine. ‘Maybe we should remember we’re on the front steps,’ she murmured.

  ‘I have a perfectly good front room, bedroom even…’

  ‘I don’t know much about you.’

  ‘Again,’ Mark said, ‘something we could easily put right.’ His hand moved further up her leg and Cat pushed it off, moving sideways on the step.

  ‘Your personality,’ she clarified, determined to marshal her thoughts despite the obvious distraction. ‘You, Mark. The person. The writer. What were your meetings about in London? What did you do?’

  ‘I thought about you.’

  Cat rolled her eyes. ‘When you were alone in your hotel room, you mean?’

  ‘No, I still have a place there.’

  ‘Oh? You haven’t completely committed to Fairview then? Still testing the water?’

  ‘I’ve committed. I like it more every day. I’ve found lots of things I want to explore.’ He gave her a knowing smile. ‘But when I first came here, I hadn’t entirely packed up my London life. I’m slowly getting there.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re going to do something with the courtyard?’ Cat thumbed behind her. ‘Because it’s pretty shocking.’

  ‘Cheeky.’

  ‘Just being honest.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll do something,’ he said. ‘It would be good to have somewhere to go and sit in the sun that wasn’t…’

  ‘Right out on the street?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Though I don’t think anyone saw us.’

  ‘Would it matter if they did?’ Mark moved a strand of Cat’s short hair off her forehead. He could make the smallest gesture seem sexy, and she felt her resolve slipping.

  ‘No, I – no, of course not.’ Not this bit anyway, she wanted to add. She had somehow imagined that he’d want to hide what happened between them away from everyone. She was relieved – and surprised – at how much he was prepared to show his affection for her in public.

  ‘That’s good,’ Mark said, ‘because Boris from next door is giving us a very cheery wave.’ He raised a hand in greeting and Boris waved back, his smile filling his narrow face. He was walking the two French bulldogs, their compact bodies jostling next to each other and hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

  Cat waved back, praying that Boris hadn’t seen Mark nuzzling her neck.

  ‘I meant it when I said I’d been thinking about you.’

  Cat kept her eyes on Boris’s retreating form. ‘And I meant it when I said I’d like to get to know you. But not in that way, not yet.’

  ‘Another beer, then?’

  ‘Sounds like a good start.’

  Mark took Cat’s empty bottle and headed back inside. Cat slipped her sandal off and stroked Chips’s soft fur with her toes. The dog turned languidly to face her, then went back to sleep. Cat closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of the sun warming her face, and not how good that kiss had been or how much she wanted to ignore the sensible part of her brain and follow Mark inside.

  Chapter 3

  When Cat had picked Olaf up on Monday morning after Frankie returned from the school run, the young mum’s eyes had been red, and Cat had heard Henry crying in the background. Frankie had hurried her out of the door, barely exchanging two words with her, and Cat had taken Chalky, Disco and Olaf to Fairview Park.

  The cocker spaniel had been skittish, as if the park was the most glorious thing he’d ever seen, and Cat thought the little dog probably wasn’t getting much time to let off steam. Olaf seemed to have even more energy than Disco, and that was saying something. Cat was reluctant to let the dogs off the lead – especially after the manner in which she’d found Olaf before – but she threw caution to the wind, ignored her lack of sports bra and jogged round the perimeter of the park. Even Chalky seemed energized by the run, barking loudly as they slowed, and rushing up to Cat for a treat with an enthusiasm he didn’t usually show.

  Cat knew that by walking Olaf regularly she could give Frankie one less thing to worry about, but she thought that there must be more she could do. She explained all this to Polly after dinner, curled up on the sofa in front of a dark and bleak-seeming film that Cat hadn’t quite caught the name of, but Joe was entirely focused on.

  ‘He’s a very sweet dog, and I’m sure he’s getting lots of attention, but I’m
not sure if he’s walked enough. I don’t mind doing that for less, or even free if it would help Frankie out.’

  ‘She won’t want that though, will she? She’ll see it as charity.’ Polly took a long swig of water. The front room was warm and they had all the windows open, the thin curtains reaching out towards them courtesy of a breeze that had appeared out of nowhere. If Cat stood close to the windows, she could hear the waves. It made her shudder every time – it was a magical, hypnotic sound, especially in the dark.

  ‘But if she’s desperate…’ Cat said. ‘I’m lucky enough not to know what it’s like to be in that situation, but if she’s struggling with two young girls and a new baby, and she can’t reduce her hours because she needs the money, then a favour, however small, must be a relief? As long as we don’t make a big deal of it.’

  ‘I don’t know why she got the dog in the first place,’ Joe said, ‘if it’s already hard enough with three kids.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, Joey,’ Polly said, ‘maybe she was just being a good mum? The girls wanted a dog, and so she got them one.’

  ‘Olaf was a present from Frankie’s partner Rick,’ Cat said, ‘before they went their separate ways. She’s definitely struggling, but Emma and Lizzie love the dog so much she can’t take it away from them. And I want to do the friendly neighbour thing and help them out.’

  ‘Did you arrange another walk with Olaf?’

  Cat shook her head. ‘No, Frankie was too flustered. She thanked me and closed the door. I’m going to go and see her tomorrow.’

  ‘And what will you say?’

  ‘I’ll ask her to let me walk Olaf, and I’ll…well, I could offer to look after Lizzie and Emma.’

  ‘Really?’ Polly frowned. ‘Wouldn’t you have to take Henry too?’

  ‘I’m qualified, DBS checked. I could take them off Frankie’s hands when she’s getting ready for work, or when the school holidays come around.’

  ‘Aren’t you meant to be a dog-walking business?’ Joe asked. He turned the volume up on the TV, jabbing the remote at the screen in case Cat hadn’t got the point. She rolled her eyes.

  ‘I don’t like seeing someone distressed, not when they’re so close by.’

  ‘But she hasn’t asked for help,’ Polly said quietly. ‘Why not just be a friend, walk Olaf, and see if she comes to you.’

  It was sound advice, as always, and Cat sat back and tried to concentrate on the film, on someone in dark clothes ducking and diving through a shadowy, dilapidated building while sinister music played. She thought that, whatever the film was, Mark would probably love it. Mark who was going to take her out to dinner – though they didn’t have a firm arrangement yet – who had kissed her in plain view of the whole of Primrose Terrace. Or maybe she had kissed him, but he had definitely started it. She tucked her feet up under her and grinned into her cup of tea.

  Pooch Promenade had given her a lot to be thankful for in the last few months. She was happy, and she wanted to help other people be happy too – what was so wrong with that?

  ‘Why don’t I—’ she started.

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Joe paused the television and faced her. Polly chewed her long blonde hair, and Cat could see she was trying not to laugh. ‘Why don’t you what?’ he asked.

  ‘Uh, I – I hadn’t quite thought,’ Cat admitted. ‘I just started the sentence, but wasn’t sure where the end was going to go. I want to help Frankie. There must be something we can do?’

  ‘Well, decide quickly, and then I can watch the rest of Blade Runner in peace.’

  ‘Oh, is that what this film is? I’ve always wanted to see Blade Runner.’

  Joe’s mouth dropped open, and Cat could feel the irritation pulsing off him. He folded his arms, levelled Cat with his blue-eyed stare – slightly sinister in the film-watching gloom of the front room – and waited. Cat focused on his tanned forearms, the way his white T-shirt clung to his torso. Since the weather had warmed up, Cat was seeing less of Joe’s hoodies and more reminders of how athletic he was. Occasionally, she found it quite distracting.

  ‘So what are you going to do? How will you interfere with this woman’s life in a way that makes it look like you’re doing it all for her?’

  ‘Joey,’ Polly said, ‘don’t be such a grump. You know Cat’s only trying to help.’

  ‘If she wants to be that helpful, then why doesn’t she move in with Frankie and let me watch my bloody film in peace?’ He pressed play and shifted on the sofa, angling his shoulder towards Cat in a gesture of finality.

  Cat and Polly exchanged a look. Cat tried to concentrate on the film and then Joe’s words replayed in her head.

  ‘Oh my God!’

  ‘For fu—’

  ‘Joe, you’re a total genius. Thank you!’ Cat leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He recoiled in shock, then stared at her as she got up.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m just taking a trip down the road.’

  ‘You’re wearing your pyjamas.’

  Cat glanced down. She had thin tartan pyjama trousers on and a strappy black vest top.

  She shrugged. ‘It’s hot, nobody will mind.’

  ‘You’re not going to see Frankie now, are you?’ Polly asked slowly.

  Cat shook her head. ‘I won’t knock on the door. I just want to have a look at something, then I’ll tell you my – Joe’s – genius idea. Joe, you really have to stop helping me out like this, or I’ll have to employ you full time and you’ll have no time for Magic Mouse designs.’

  ‘Oh, wow,’ Joe said drily, ‘all my dreams come true.’

  Cat laughed and burst out of the front door, into the warm summer’s evening.

  ‘You want me to rent my attic out?’ Frankie asked, handing Polly and Cat cups of milky tea, pushing a pile of magazines onto the floor and gesturing for them to sit down.

  ‘It’s not being used now, is it?’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘It’s a dump. It turned into the junk room as soon as Rick and I moved in, and it’s been collecting all our crap ever since.’

  ‘But it – it’s boarded out?’ Cat asked.

  ‘Oh, yeah, it’s a proper room. I had grand hopes of turning it into a music room once upon a time – Lizzie’s learning the guitar and I play too, but like so many things, it’s never happened.’

  ‘So with a bit of sorting, it could be a room again? In our house it’s Joe’s room, and though it’s not somewhere I’ve spent a lot of time I’ve seen how big it is. This is such a lovely street to live on, I’m sure you’d have no problem getting a tenant.’

  ‘What, with three young kids and a dog?’

  ‘Lots of people love children and animals,’ Polly said. ‘Cat’s right, it could bring in a good income, allow you to drop your hours at the restaurant, or find another job altogether.’

  Frankie sat back and fiddled with her hair. Cat noticed that she didn’t often look directly at them, her green eyes always on the move. Perhaps that came from having three children, always on the lookout for where they were or whether something was wrong. ‘It would be a lot of work, and I don’t have much time to myself as it is.’

  ‘We’d help you clear it out, if you wanted?’ Cat said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why would you help me? Why are you both doing this?’

  Cat put her mug on the floor and Olaf padded over, sniffed it and looked up at her. She lifted the dog onto her lap. ‘We want to help. Isn’t that enough?’

  Frankie chewed her lip. ‘Seems suspicious. Seems like no one really goes out of their way like this unless there’s something in it for them. You don’t seem like that sort of person, but I don’t get it. And if I don’t get it, I’m reluctant to do it – as generous as your offer seems.’

  Cat ran her hands down Olaf’s long ears. It was a good question. Why did she feel compelled to help Frankie? She took a deep breath, and tried to explain. ‘I moved here a few months ago, and things were great fo
r a while, and then I lost my job.’

  ‘At the nursery,’ Frankie said.

  ‘Right. Exactly.’ Her gaze flicked to Polly, then back to Frankie. ‘And lots of people were kind to me. Elsie – she’s next door to us – wouldn’t let me drown in self-pity. She helped me come up with the idea of dog walking. Joe and Polly helped me market it. Jessica – the author – let me walk her dogs, made me feel like I could actually do it. Everyone on Primrose Terrace has been so supportive, and I – I feel lucky. I want to pay it forward, I want to help other people. Maybe it’s ridiculous but, well, there it is.’ She gave Frankie a tentative smile.

  Frankie nodded, stood and checked on Henry, who was asleep in his pram in the corner of the room. ‘Let me have a think,’ she said. ‘I’m not saying no, but I don’t want to say yes just like that. And I still want to do something for you.’

  ‘OK,’ Cat said, also standing. ‘Take as long as you need.’

  On Saturday afternoon, Cat and Polly collected Chalky and Disco from Elsie’s house, and then walked down the road to number twelve. Lizzie answered the door, her long hair in pigtails. ‘Mum’s going to work now, she’s racing around looking for her shoes.’

  ‘I know what that’s like,’ Cat said, grinning.

  ‘We’ve come to get Olaf,’ Polly added.

  ‘Oh.’ Lizzie looked downcast. ‘OK.’

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Lizzie shrugged. ‘Can I stroke them?’ She pointed at the mini schnauzers.

  ‘Of course you can.’

  Lizzie dropped to her knees and gave one hand to each dog. Disco padded forward affectionately and Chalky stood still, pretending to be resigned but, Cat knew, really loving the attention.

  ‘Our babysitter’s coming,’ Lizzie said. Cat thought she looked like a smaller version of Polly, all pale skin and freckles, slender limbs in denim shorts.

  ‘Except she’s not,’ Frankie said, racing down the stairs. She was brushing her hair, her mobile pressed to her ear with the other hand. ‘She’s sick, so I’m trying to find someone else. You like Pippa, don’t you?’