Sunshine and Spaniels

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘Of course it will,’ he said. ‘You’ve worked too hard for it not to.’

  ‘I haven’t done much, it’s been them.’ She gestured to the kitchen, where Lizzie and Frankie were making tall glasses of cold squash and putting biscuits onto a plate.

  ‘They wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t for you.’ He reached up and ran his finger gently down the side of her face, from her forehead to her chin, as if he was drawing her outline. Cat froze, her breath stalling somewhere above her lungs.

  They stared at each other for a moment, then Joe dropped his hand and patted the pocket of his shorts. ‘Drink?’ he asked, and, before Cat could respond, went to greet Frankie. Cat pressed her palm against her cheek. It was hot in Frankie’s living room, the sun streaming in great swathes through the window.

  ‘Hello?’ a familiar voice called. ‘Anyone in here?’ Boris stepped into the living room, ducking his head as if he expected to be too tall for every doorway.

  ‘Hi, Boris!’ Cat gave him a quick hug.

  His partner Charles followed him in. He was shorter and darker than Boris, with skittish eyes that didn’t rest anywhere for very long, and seemed to Cat incredibly shy. They were both dressed in outfits Cat thought were too fashionable to go to the pub in, let alone suitable for lugging furniture about. Olaf barked, jumped out of his basket and raced up to Charles and the two French bulldogs on leads at his feet.

  ‘We brought Bossy and Dylan, I hope you don’t mind?’

  ‘Course not,’ Frankie called. ‘The more the merrier.’

  The dogs greeted each other enthusiastically, and Cat crouched, saying hello to the two Frenchies. One was black and one fawn, and both seemed mildly interested by her, but were in no way as exuberant as Olaf or the Westies. Maybe Boris and Charles had trained them to be aloof: fashion-show Frenchies. She made them both feel welcome, then stood.

  Joe was leaning against the wall, his hand in his pocket, looking at her.

  ‘Sorry, Joe, I didn’t think. Are you—’

  He waved her away. ‘It’s fine. I’ve pretty much come to accept that wherever you are, dogs won’t be too far away.’

  She squeezed his arm. ‘I think that—’

  ‘Right, guys,’ Frankie said. ‘Thank you all so much for coming, and thanks to Cat for organizing this weird room-sorting fun day. I really appreciate it.’ Cat grinned.

  Frankie was looking more alive than Cat had ever seen her. Dressed in a 100% Organic T-shirt and cut-off jeans, her long auburn hair tied back from her face, her freckles making her look even younger than she was, she had energy and – Cat thought – hope. Cat crossed her fingers behind her back.

  Frankie took Boris and Charles out to the tiny utility area, where she’d been storing the bits of furniture they’d accumulated. Rather than listen to Elsie and abandon the vintage cabinet for a soulless Argos model, Cat had done a deal with the shop owner and got it for a reduced price and a part-exchange with some of Frankie’s old, but surprisingly valuable, candle holders. There was also a bedside table, a pretty upright lamp and an oval mirror that they’d discovered in the attic and decided could be rescued with a little bit of care and attention. The bed and canvas wardrobe – from a discount furniture store – were due to be delivered at some point during the morning.

  ‘What are we doing?’ Joe asked.

  Cat pointed at the box. ‘Cleaning. Any other takers?’

  Emma put her hand up. Cat held out a duster but Emma shook her head and, taking the handheld hoover, led the way up to the attic.

  It didn’t take long for Cat and Olaf to fall in love with Frankie’s dust-buster. The spaniel chased the hoover, barking constantly, sneezing when the dust whirled in spirals around him. Emma, Cat and even Joe spent the first half an hour laughing at the dog’s antics, and not getting much done at all. But once the wooden floor was dust free they started on the floor polish, opening the window as the synthetic pine scent filled the room.

  ‘Emma, do you want to take Olaf downstairs for a bit? You could help the others with the furniture.’

  ‘Why?’ Emma asked. ‘Do you want to do kissy things in private?’

  Cat felt her cheeks flush and Joe turned away, coughing into the wall. ‘No, not at all. Joe and I, we’re not— I’m just worried the chemicals are a bit overpowering.’

  Emma shrugged, gave each of them a look that was far too perceptive for a four-year-old, called to Olaf and went traipsing down the stairs.

  The silence she left them with was as stifling as the air, and Cat started polishing, working in small circles, focusing all her energy on getting out the marks left by furniture and boxes, stains that had built up over the years.

  ‘How’s your work going?’ she asked eventually. Joe was in the opposite corner, and didn’t look up.

  ‘Good, thanks. Busy, which I should be grateful for, but it can get wearing when it’s full on for so long.’

  ‘Do you give yourself holidays?’

  ‘Not really. When Alex— When there were two of us, one of us would go and the other would stay. Now it’s just me, I haven’t thought about it.’

  ‘You need some proper time off.’

  ‘I bet you haven’t had any since you started your dog thing.’

  ‘My dog thing?’

  ‘You know.’

  ‘Pooch Promenade.’

  ‘That’s the one.’ He gave her one of his rare grins. It dimpled his cheeks and made him look carefree, as if he didn’t have work pressures or the remains of a broken heart. It was hot in the room and his cheeks were pink, sweat darkening the hair at his temples. Cat found herself unable to reply and felt suddenly ridiculous, kneeling and scrubbing away at the floor. She stood up, intending to go and get another drink – anything – but footsteps on the stairs stopped her, and Polly appeared in the doorway.

  ‘I’m here,’ she said, panting. ‘And look who I’ve found.’

  She stepped into the room and Mark followed her, dressed casually in a dark green T-shirt and faded navy shorts, his sunglasses on his head. He raised a hand in greeting and Cat wondered whether she should hug him or shake his hand, but he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

  ‘I hope I’ve not missed too much,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, no,’ Joe replied. ‘There’s plenty of cleaning left to do.’

  ‘Do you two know each other?’ Cat asked.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Joe stood up, wiped his hands on his shorts and shook Mark’s hand. The room felt tiny with the four of them in. ‘I’m Joe, Cat’s housemate, Polly’s brother. You’re Mark?’

  ‘I am. Heard lots about me?’ Mark grinned.

  ‘A few bits and pieces,’ Joe admitted. ‘Nice to finally put a face to the name. What was it you called him, Cat?’

  ‘Tell us what we can do,’ Polly said quickly, clapping her hands. ‘Come on, before we all succumb to the heat.’

  ‘Right, OK.’ Cat flashed her friend her best grateful grin and put them all to work.

  The tension slowly disintegrated and, while there was a bit of one-upmanship between Joe and Mark that had Cat and Polly rolling their eyes at each other, Cat started to have fun. The floor began to gleam, the walls were wiped clean of years-old grime, and the window was soon glistening, proudly displaying a view of perfect blue sky.

  Frankie called them down for sandwiches and they found Elsie in the kitchen, making cups of tea and coffee. Cat and the others flopped gratefully onto sofas and cushions that Frankie had laid out on the floor, and Boris and Charles gave them a furniture fashion show.

  The vintage cabinet and the bedside table were now a beautiful dusky blue, their handles and knobs silver, and looked as though they had been made to go together. The lamp stand and mirror frame were also matt silver, and all had baked dry in the tiny courtyard, so they could go straight into the room when it was ready.

  ‘And the finishing touch.’ Frankie pulled a rug out of a giant carrier bag. It was the same dusky blue as the furniture, with
swirls of white and purple. It was bold, but Cat knew it would work perfectly with the wooden floor, white walls and simple furniture. ‘Ta da!’

  ‘Wow. Where did you get that?’

  ‘We found it,’ Charles said. ‘We went shopping for a few bits for the guest house, we saw this and then found some paint to match. Frankie’s given us carte blanche.’

  ‘As if I wouldn’t,’ Frankie said. ‘This room’s going to look the tops. I might set you to work on the rest of the house after this.’

  ‘Oh, no, it was nothing.’ Boris waved her away, but Cat could see that he was pleased. She suddenly realized that, despite all the people in the room, it seemed far too quiet.

  ‘Where are the dogs?’ She sat up, panicked.

  Frankie grinned and pointed to Olaf’s basket.

  Cat clapped her hand over her mouth. Olaf and Disco were in the basket, snuffling gently, using each other as pillows. Chalky and the Frenchies were lying in a row next to the basket, all snoozing, an ear twitching occasionally.

  ‘What did you do?’

  Charles shrugged. ‘They overexcited themselves. It’s fairly adorable.’

  ‘It’s the loveliest thing ever.’ Cat knelt in front of them and took a photo on her iPhone. She imagined her own dog snuggled alongside the rest. A Cairn terrier or a Jack Russell, something small and affectionate. One day, she thought, sighing to herself as she watched them sleep.

  ‘Should we get back to work?’ Joe said, finishing his tea. ‘There’s a lot left to do.’

  Frankie nodded. ‘But let me do some of the cleaning this afternoon. I feel like I haven’t got my hands dirty.’

  ‘How about you and I put the bed together,’ Elsie said to her, peering out of the window.

  ‘Is it here?’ Lizzie squealed.

  ‘I think so, my love, unless someone else on Primrose Terrace has ordered the whole of the furniture store.’ Elsie shook her head. ‘Do they really need a lorry that big for one flat-packed bed and a canvas wardrobe?’

  They watched from the window as a huge articulated lorry tried to reverse down the terrace, lights flashing, beeping, manoeuvring jerkily past the parked cars.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Boris said, ‘it’s going to be a catastrophe.’

  ‘Maybe he needs someone to talk him in?’ Mark hurried outside, careful to shut the front door so that no dogs ended up near the wheels, and tried to gesture and shout the lorry into a good position. It made Cat feel hot just watching it. She flapped her purple vest top, trying to get air to circulate around her body, and rearranged her spotty bandana. Sweat was running in rivulets between her shoulder blades, and she could feel the grime beneath her fingernails. She caught Joe’s eye and he looked quickly away. Cat frowned, realized she was too tired to think about anything other than floor polish and furniture, and went upstairs to give the window a final clean.

  ‘Mum says it’s time for ice cream!’ Lizzie shouted, running down the stairs. Cat looked up from where she was sitting on the living-room floor, surrounded by dogs, typing an advert they could put on websites and in the local paper. Once the room was finished, she would take some photos to go with it. Boris and Charles, their interior designing well received, had gone back to see to their guests, and Polly was making tea for the reduced party.

  Elsie, Frankie, Joe and Mark were putting the furniture together, and Cat felt grateful that she could be elsewhere. It was half past five, they had worked all day, and if they didn’t find someone to take Frankie’s spare room after all their effort then Cat would eat her bandana.

  ‘Ice cream’s a great idea,’ Polly said.

  ‘And the dogs could do with a run-around,’ Cat added.

  ‘We’re going to the ice-cream parlour,’ Lizzie said, ‘because they do the best ice creams. Elsie said so.’

  Cat glanced at Polly, but her expression was blank. ‘Do you know what, lovely Lizzie, why don’t you take Polly with you? I’ve got to finish off the advert, or all our hard work will be for nothing.’

  ‘OK,’ Lizzie said brightly.

  ‘Oh, no, it’s fine,’ Polly said, ‘I’m happy to stay.’ But Lizzie grabbed her by the arm and started putting the leads on the dogs. Cat smiled into the laptop and kept quiet, waving them goodbye as they left.

  Without the dogs or the girls, and with Henry asleep in his cot upstairs, the front room was unusually quiet, save for the sound of Cat tapping on the laptop keys, and voices, laughter and banging drifting down from the top floor. Cat reworked the advert, more to keep her mind off other things than because it needed it, and didn’t notice Mark until he was crouching in front of her, lifting her chin to kiss her.

  ‘I missed you,’ he said. ‘I thought about you all the time.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said, but she didn’t sound convincing, mainly because she wasn’t sure she believed him. If he’d really missed her, wouldn’t they have been on the phone to each other every night instead of one quick call and a few, flirty texts? She was attracted to him, but she still knew hardly anything about him. As Elsie had said, his mysteriousness was becoming less attractive.

  He kissed her again, more passionately this time, as if he’d read her thoughts and wanted to prove her wrong.

  She kissed him back, and told herself it didn’t matter, that whatever was destined to happen, would happen. Mark broke away and kissed her below the ear. ‘We need to do something about this,’ he murmured.

  ‘What?’ Cat asked, running her fingers up his neck and into his thick hair.

  ‘This, between us.’

  ‘I thought you were going to take me out to dinner?’

  He sat back and looked at her, his easy grin firmly in place. ‘I was, wasn’t I?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Let’s do it then. Next week.’

  ‘Next week as in next week, or as in three months’ time?’

  ‘Cat—’ Mark frowned, but the front door banged open and the girls spilled inside, empty-handed.

  ‘No ice cream?’ Cat called.

  ‘Look who we found!’ Emma shouted, and Cat watched as Polly followed them in, and then Rummy, his ears and tail alert, and then Owen, carrying a large cool box. He closed the door with his bum, gave Cat a wide grin and nodded a greeting.

  ‘It’s Gooey-eyes!’ Lizzie added, clapping her hands together. ‘We’ve got so much ice cream.’

  Chapter 6

  The room was finished and Cat wondered if Polly and Joe would be cross if, after all this, she did move into number twelve – then at least Joe could watch Blade Runner in peace next time. It looked spectacular, and not just because she was experiencing a huge sugar rush from Owen’s ice cream.

  ‘That,’ he said, peering in over Polly’s shoulder, ‘is one groovy bedroom. You really expect me to believe it was full of boxes a few weeks ago? It’s better than the Meridian Hotel on the seafront.’

  ‘Can I quote you in my advert?’ Cat asked. ‘Local business owner says…Maybe you could come round to ours on your way home and we could finish writing it. What do you think, Pol?’

  ‘I think, I…’ She gave Cat a sideways glance, a sideways Don’t. ‘I need to study.’

  Cat bit her lip.

  ‘Not tonight though, sis,’ Joe said, ‘not after all this hard work. We should all celebrate with a night off.’

  ‘Ice creams were our celebration,’ Frankie said, one arm around each of her daughters. ‘I need to get these guys bathed and to bed.’ Emma’s eyes were struggling to stay open, and Lizzie had a dreamy smile on her face, along with smudges of dirt and, possibly, ice cream. ‘And now I’ve got Henry down, I don’t want to risk waking him.’

  Cat took a final look at the beautiful bedroom, with its clean lines and thick, swirly rug – so different from the box-cave they’d started with a few weeks ago – and pulled the door closed.

  As they spilled out into a perfect summer evening, Cat hovered on the doorstep. ‘It seems a shame not to come to your own celebration.’

  Frankie shook her head. ‘Do
n’t be silly – you’ve worked harder than anyone. Thanks so much, Cat. I don’t know what I would have done without this. I know it’s not done yet, I know I need a lodger and a new job and…’ She ran her hands over her hair, shrugging slightly. ‘It would be so much worse if I didn’t have this. It’s like a beacon of hope at the top of our pink house – like the light on the lighthouse.’

  Cat rubbed her arm. ‘I didn’t do a lot. I shoved an idea at you and you didn’t close the door in my face.’

  ‘And I’ve thought of what I can do for you in return.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Do you play guitar?’

  Cat shook her head. ‘Nope. I don’t think I have a musical bone in my body. I did drama at uni and they wouldn’t give me a part in any of the musical productions.’

  ‘Let me prove you wrong.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Cat said. ‘I might be a lost cause.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Owen said, bouncing up to the top step. ‘Did you say you were looking for a job?’

  Frankie nodded slowly, narrowing her eyes. ‘Yeah, but—’

  ‘What kind of thing?’

  ‘I worked at Spatz, but I didn’t really fit in there. With Henry and the girls, I need to be able to drop everything at a moment’s notice, and they weren’t flexible. I know it’s not ideal, but I can’t compromise for my kids.’

  Owen waved her words away. ‘Spatz in town, the restaurant?’

  ‘Yeah. Why are you being so cryptic?’

  ‘I’m not, I’m not,’ Owen said, holding his hands up. ‘It’s just we’re short-staffed at the ice-cream parlour, and I don’t know if you fancy—’

  ‘Yes,’ Frankie rushed, and Cat had to stifle her laugh. ‘Sorry to be blunt, but yeah, that would be great. Even a few hours a week would make a huge difference.’

  ‘Wow, that was easy.’ Owen grinned and shook Frankie’s hand.

  Cat looked at Frankie’s beaming face, then Owen’s endlessly cheerful one, and resisted the urge to jump up and down and cheer. Instead she skipped down the steps and flung her arms around Polly. ‘Owen’s given Frankie a job,’ she whispered.