‘Chips?’
‘After Chips in Dawn of the Dead. The remake, obviously.’
‘You named your dog after a zombie? That’s not very kind. How long have you been in Fairview?’
Mark blinked at her and ran a hand over his jawline. It was quite pointy, quite determined, Cat thought, if jaws can be determined. ‘A few weeks. You’ve not seen it then, Dawn of the Dead?’
Cat shook her head.
‘Chips is the dog, unsurprisingly, rather than a zombie. She’s a hero – she saves the main characters from certain death. I’m splitting my time between here and London – it’s lovely round here, very…peaceful.’
‘Are you training your dog to survive a zombie apocalypse? What happens to her when you’re in London?’
‘Chips wouldn’t need training, she’d know exactly what to do.’ He grinned at her with white, even teeth.
Cat decided his jawline wasn’t determined, it was smug, but he was a potential punter all the same. This was too good an opportunity to miss. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ she said. ‘I could always look after Chips for you when you’re back in London – feed her, take her for walks.’
‘That’s a very kind – and unexpected – offer. She’s fine with me – she can cope on her own for a few hours if I’m working. Do you always go around offering to look after strangers’ pets, or am I special?’
‘Oh, oh, no, I mean…’ Cat felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘It’s what I do. I wasn’t just…offering.’ She shrugged.
‘Ah.’ Mark nodded. ‘So all these dogs aren’t yours, then?’ Disco was burrowing into the crook of his arm, her stumpy tail wagging as if her life depended on it.
‘No,’ Cat said. ‘I’m walking them.’
‘Sure it’s that way round?’
Cat gritted her teeth and gave him a tight smile. ‘This is just…I’m still working out the best combinations, the easiest way to run things. Big dogs and little dogs together are a bit of a handful.’
‘They are,’ he agreed. ‘I’m not sure Primrose Park knows what’s hit it. And who’s this little guy? Come out, buster.’ He lifted Disco up, and the puppy started licking his chin. ‘Hey.’ Mark laughed and put her on the ground.
‘She’s a girl. Disco,’ Cat said. Something flashed in her mind, making her do a double take. She looked at Mark, but he was intent on the puppy and all the love she had to give. ‘And Chalky’s the older mini schnauzer and the Westies are Valentino, Coco and Dior. That’s Bertha.’ She pointed at the largest dog, who was staring out across the park, looking noble.
Mark pressed his lips together and looked at the ground.
‘I didn’t name them. God, I wish I’d never said anything now.’
‘It’s an impressive outing,’ Mark nodded, unable to hide his smirk. ‘And you’ve done well, considering.’
‘Considering?’ Cat shot back.
‘Considering how unruly they are.’
‘Well, I’m glad I’ve met with your approval.’
‘I’m very happy to give it.’ He was entirely unruffled, which had the opposite effect on Cat.
‘Are you always like this?’
‘Like what?’
‘Incredibly patronizing.’
‘I wasn’t aware that I was being. I saw you were struggling, came over to help, and—’
‘Yes, thanks for that, I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine now that Squirrelgate’s over. Nice meeting you.’ She tried to walk coolly off, but Disco was intent on spending more time with her new friend, and Valentino had managed to get his lead wrapped round Bertha’s, so her aloof departure didn’t happen. Mark bent down to untangle the leads. ‘Thanks,’ she said shortly, ‘again.’
‘No problem…again.’ She could feel his smirk.
Cat turned in the direction of the park gate. Within moments Bertha was once again in front, and Cat’s sore hand stung in the wind. The rain was coming down harder now, running in rivulets off her jacket, her short hair plastered to her forehead. She risked a glance behind her, and saw that Mark was still watching her, Chips sitting at his feet, the tennis ball in her mouth. He was attaching a lead to her collar, but raised a hand when she turned. Cat looked quickly ahead and tripped over Disco, only just managing to catch her balance before she fell, sprawling, into the middle of her pack of pets.
Cheeks burning, she picked up her pace. She had to admit that, despite her best efforts, her first proper outing as a dog walker had not gone smoothly. Still, she would learn from her mistakes, and next time she strolled into Fairview Park she’d be completely in control, as serene as a swan, even if the bloody squirrel made another appearance. She was torn between never wanting to see smug Mark and Chips again, and hoping that he’d be there to see her moment of triumph.
‘I’ll show them,’ she said to her suddenly well-behaved pooches. ‘I’ll show them just how effective I can be with my dogs. Fairview Park won’t know what’s hit it. I mean,’ she said to Bertha, who was padding alongside her, her short golden coat rubbing against Cat’s leg as they walked, ‘he acts all smug but he doesn’t even know what the park’s called. It’s not Primrose Pa—’ She stopped, the spark she’d felt earlier exploding into clarity. ‘Oh! That’s very strange.’ She glanced behind her, but Mark was no longer there. ‘What’s going on there, I wonder? What do you think, Bertha? Do you think I should try and find out?’ She took the dog’s easy silence as assent, and with her curiosity radar once more set to high, Cat made her way back to Primrose Terrace.
‘It wasn’t as bad as all that,’ Cat said. ‘It was a…lesson in dog management.’ She was sitting on Elsie’s sofa, brushing Chalky’s fur. She’d dried each of the dogs with a towel as she returned them, and the mini schnauzers looked like they’d been through a spin-cycle. ‘They saw a squirrel, and I’m sure the most experienced dog walker would have struggled to control a braying mob like mine.’ Chalky looked up at her and pressed his cold nose against her chin. ‘I wasn’t talking about you,’ Cat whispered. ‘You were a gentleman – almost.’
‘But you made it back at least, no harm to any of them.’
‘They didn’t bite each other. They all seemed to get on fine, it was me they ganged up on.’
Elsie shook her head and stroked Disco. She was wearing a raspberry-coloured cardigan, her neat white bob perfectly in place. ‘Dogs do sense emotions in humans, much more than I think we realize. I expect they knew that you were nervous, and thought they could have a bit of extra fun at your expense. You need to be more confident.’
‘I need to be left to get on with it, is what I need.’ Cat took a long swig of tea. It burned her throat, but she enjoyed the warmth after such a cold, wet walk.
‘I thought this man rescued you?’
‘He did. But he was smug about it. Ooooh, so smug, Elsie, you wouldn’t believe. Everything about him is smug, his trendy frayed leather jacket, his stubble, his jawline.’
‘He has a smug jawline?’ Elsie looked sceptical.
‘It’s the most smug thing about him. But …’ Cat narrowed her eyes.
‘But?’
‘What do you know about Jessica?’
‘Jessica the author? Owner of your Westies?’
Cat nodded. ‘Is she married?’
‘Divorced, a couple of years ago now. She’s clearly unsettled, because the house has been up for sale several times since then, but it always comes off the market again. I suppose she might not be around for much longer.’
‘She did say she’d had a hard time recently. She was quite honest about it, considering we’d only just met.’ Cat thought of Jessica’s sad eyes, and then the Westies. Their soft white fur, their open, eager expressions. They hadn’t been that bad today, and who could hold a grudge against such pretty dogs? Already, she would miss them if they weren’t there. ‘What about now?’
‘Came off the market again two weeks ago,’ Elsie said with a smile, clearly happy that she had the answers to Cat’s questions.
‘Which means…
?’
‘She’s found a reason to stay in Fairview?’
‘Exactly!’ Cat leaned forward, her voice rising, making Chalky jump. She held on to the old dog, unprepared to relinquish his warmth.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Mark.’
‘Smug Mark in the park?’
‘If you have to use his full title. He said he was new here, and the “To Let” sign recently came down outside number four.’
‘Good detecting,’ Elsie said. ‘But why do you suppose he’s the one who’s moved in there? Have you seen him?’
‘No, I’ve only seen him a couple of times, in the park. But he said something that makes me think he and Jessica know each other.’
‘Which was?’
‘He called it Primrose Park. Have you ever heard anyone call it that? I mean, it’s not even on Primrose Terrace – it’s a road back – so why would you give it the wrong name?’
‘No idea. What has this got to do with Jessica?’
‘Guess who else called it Primrose Park.’
Elsie’s eyes widened. She sipped her tea thoughtfully. ‘That does seem quite coincidental. Good for Jessica. I don’t know her well, but by all accounts she’s had a rough time – there was a lot of speculation in the press about her ex-husband. She deserves some happiness.’
Cat nodded, her hands going over Chalky’s ears again and again. He was asleep now, his breaths turning to snores, his back leg twitching as in his dreams he caught the squirrel. ‘And Jessica said things were looking up – she hinted that there might be someone else. But then he didn’t seem to recognize her dogs, or maybe he was pretending not to. I wonder…’ she murmured.
‘Wonder what?’
‘Well, Mark seemed so smug, and flirtatious. He seemed like he’d be…I don’t know. If she’s had a bad break-up, if she’s had her heart broken…Maybe I should – should find out a bit more about him.’
‘Cat.’ There was a warning in Elsie’s voice.
‘She seemed so lovely and trusting when I met her. She gave me spare keys to her house after five minutes. You’d think someone in the public eye would be more cautious and I just…I don’t want her to get hurt.’
‘You barely know her.’
‘But I’m going to, if I’m going to be walking her dogs, and I think that Mark might…’
‘Might what? Not be right for her? Cat, how on earth can you think that after having met each of them for five minutes? You’re inventing things.’
‘I’m trying to be helpful.’
‘Don’t you want to focus on building up your business walking dogs to begin with, rather than inserting yourself into your clients’ private lives?’
Cat sat back on the sofa, her mind whirring. ‘But I’m in the right place to find things out. I can easily do a bit of investigating…’
‘No, Cat.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because, as I’m sure you already know, it’ll end in tears.’
With the relaxing warmth of an extra-long bath working its magic on her limbs, Cat was in her rose-print pyjamas on the sofa, and struggling to stay awake. She’d spent the afternoon plotting out the pages for the Pooch Promenade website, and now just needed somebody expert to create it. She wasn’t sure after yesterday that Joe would want to be that person.
Darkness had descended, and the front room of number nine Primrose Terrace was cosy. Cat loved this time of year; the early sunsets, chilly in the evenings so that you could wrap up, but with vibrant flowers peeping up through the soil, the promise of summer around the corner. Her wrists and shoulders still ached, but her initial dismay at the disastrous walk had faded, her thoughts focused on how she could prevent it from happening again.
She’d padded into the living room, eyed Cat suspiciously and walked towards where her toes dangled enticingly over the edge of the sofa. Cat whipped her feet under her just as the front door banged open and Joe, breathing heavily and in full running gear, went straight past her and into the kitchen. Cat pretended to look at her website notes, listened to the cold tap running, the washing machine door opening, and tried not to feel so uncomfortable.
‘Hey,’ she called. ‘Good run?’ It felt lame, but she had to say something.
‘Cold,’ he called back. ‘But that wasn’t unexpected.’
‘Still raining?’
‘Yup.’
Great. Making an enemy of Polly’s brother was not on her to-do list. She took a deep breath.
‘Joe, I’m sorry I—’ She stopped as he appeared in the doorway stripped down and bare-chested in just his shorts. Cat could see that underneath his jeans and hoodies, Joe clearly kept himself very fit. ‘I shouldn’t have let the dogs in yesterday,’ she said quickly. ‘Jessica sprang the visit on me, and I didn’t realize she was bringing her dogs, but I…I couldn’t turn away – t-turn her away.’ Cat wasn’t sure where to look; there was something about Joe’s ripped torso that was making her feel a bit hot under the collar. She fumbled awkwardly as he stood there, half-naked, fixing her with a steady gaze. His blond hair was dark from the rain, his blue eyes bright after his exertion.
She tried again. ‘What I’m saying is…’
‘I know what you’re saying. I know it was an awkward situation, and I’m sorry if I seemed unreasonable. But I don’t want dogs here, and I was surprised you’d let them in.’
‘I am really sorry.’
‘I know,’ he nodded. ‘Apology accepted.’ He gave her a hint of a smile, retrieved his glass of water from the kitchen and sat opposite her, his elbows on his knees. His breathing had just about returned to normal, but Cat found herself fixated by the rise and fall of his chest, his slender but toned arms, and the six-pack. She looked away, thought of Mark, of his dark, amused eyes, his easy charm. She studied the individual orange hairs of Shed’s tail. She should go upstairs.
‘You looked a bit soggy when you came in earlier,’ Joe said eventually. ‘Were you walking the dogs?’
Cat nodded, reached for her cold cup of tea. ‘My first official walk as Pooch Promenade.’
‘And how did it go?’ She sensed him thaw a little, felt the slip back into a familiar routine.
‘Well,’ she said, trying to ignore Joe’s bare chest and tucking her legs up under her, ‘it started out well enough. I had a Rhodesian ridgeback, Elsie’s mini schnauzers and the three Westies—’ She stopped.
‘Jessica’s three,’ he confirmed for her. ‘It’s in the past. Go on.’
‘Right, thanks. We were trotting happily along, and then they spotted a squirrel, and then I might as well have been a rag doll at the mercy of a pack of huskies, I was that effective.’ She felt a flash of the panic that had engulfed her earlier and shuddered. ‘Ugh. Anyway, I had to be rescued by a handsome stranger.’
‘Oh? Someone you know?’
‘No, due to the fact that he was a stranger.’
‘Fair enough.’ He gave a sheepish smile. ‘So he was your knight in shining armour?’
‘Complete with collie.’
‘He has a dog? Of course he does.’ Joe scratched his jaw and glanced out of the window. Neither of them had got round to pulling the curtains, and Cat realized they must be clearly visible from the road, the lit room glowing like a beacon in the dark. ‘And have you recruited his dog?’
‘No. Well, not yet. But I think he must live close by, so I’m going to see if I can find out a bit more.’
‘Oh, no.’ He turned back to her. ‘What are you up to?’
‘Nothing at all.’ She kept her tone light, knowing he would see through it in an instant.
Joe put his glass on the table. ‘It took you two months to wreck your job at the nursery, and that was because you decided to upset the natural order. You knew what was allowed, and you did the opposite.’ His voice was rising, his blue eyes hard. ‘You’re one week into your new job – your business, I might add, nobody to lose out except you – and already you’re plotting something. You’re going to mess it up before
it’s even got going.’
‘I’m trying to get more clients, that’s all.’
‘You’re after this guy?’
‘I’m intrigued by him.’ That was true, and she wasn’t after him, especially not if he was already with Jessica.
‘If you like him, why not just invite him for a drink? Then you can find out more by asking him.’
‘It’s more complicated than that. I need to know some things first.’
Joe took his glass into the kitchen. ‘Not everything has to be complicated,’ he called. ‘And sometimes, often, in fact, simple is better.’ He dropped his voice so Cat had to strain to hear him. She got the impression he was no longer talking to her. ‘Most of the time, simple is far less bloody trouble.’
‘Poor Joe,’ Cat said to Shed, who was still at her feet. ‘Not a happy bunny, is he?’
‘Who’s a bunny?’
‘Nobody. I was just saying to Shed that he’d probably quite like to chase a bunny.’
Joe narrowed his eyes. ‘Shed’s far too lazy to go after a rabbit. Sometimes he finds going after a bowl of Whiskas too taxing.’
‘Joe, would you like me to walk him for you?’ She grinned. ‘Walking cats isn’t that weird – I bet quite a lot of people do it.’
‘I’d love that.’
Cat frowned. ‘Seriously?’
‘Yes, I would love to see you try and walk a Rhodesian what’s-its-name, three Westies and my fat cat. I would video it, and it’d go viral in about three days – three hours if a squirrel got in on the act.’
Once he’d gone for his shower, Cat put the kettle on. She felt a small glow of satisfaction. Maybe she hadn’t completely ruined her relationship with him, maybe he could be worked on, made cups of tea, chipped away at until the real Joe – the Joe before Alex Duhamel and Rosalin – came back, emerging from the layers of misery. Maybe she could have her cartoon dog and Pooch Promenade website after all.
Chapter 4
As March turned into April, Fairview Park transformed into a carpet of colour, of daffodils and marigolds and bluebells, the sea had more blue days than grey, and Cat and Pooch Promenade gained more confidence and more clients. Elsie’s recovery was slow, and while she had begun to take Chalky and Disco around the block, they still needed more exercise, and along with Bertha and the Westies, Cat had a couple of poodles to walk twice a week, and a Border terrier called Huey whose owners worked full time. Meeting new clients and picking up the dogs, she was learning different routes, getting to know Fairview better, and finding that she liked the cheery seaside town more and more.
Wellies and Westies Page 5