Pug Actually

by Matt Dunn

  “Luke’s out of the picture.”

  “Right. Good. I mean, good if you think it’s good. Which, you know, we all do.”

  “And I’m guessing Priya’s told you about what happened with Tom?”

  Sanj looks like he doesn’t know whether yes or no is the right answer, so instead, he just half smiles, which obviously is the right answer, because Julie sighs resignedly, and all the fight seems to go out of her.

  “And I suppose you’re going to tell me I should just call him? Apologize. Promise it’ll never happen again. But what if it does? What if I’m not over Luke? It’s not fair to Tom for me to lead him on, then break his heart if I haven’t moved on, and if there’s still a danger that I haven’t gotten Luke completely out of my system. If I can’t trust myself, then it’s not fair for me to ask someone else to trust me, is it?”

  Sanj looks even more uncomfortable than before, then he glances down at me, and an idea evidently occurs to him.

  “What do you think you should do?”

  It’s a master stroke, a brilliant question. Because most people already know what they need to do about whatever their problem is. They just need a little help admitting it.

  “What do I think?” says Julie, as if her own opinion is one she’s never thought about consulting.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, let me see. I can become a nun, I suppose, which means I won’t have anything intimate to do with men ever again, thus sparing me from the likes of Luke and saving Tom from the likes of me. Or I could just refuse to answer my door, get a cat, and go the same way as my next-door neighbor. And I’ll tell you something. Right now, that second option is a lot more tempting than ever having to deal with any of this crap again!”

  Another customer’s just come in, and the look of relief on Sanj’s face is evident. “Right,” he says after an awkward pause, but one he’s evidently decided is less awkward than anything he might say.

  “So, mad Cat Lady here I come,” Julie says, a little shrilly, and I stiffen. “And in the meantime I’m going to self-medicate with Chardonnay. If that’s okay with you?”

  Sanj nods mutely, then he produces a couple of plastic bags from beneath the counter and begins bagging the bottles. The moment he’s finished, Julie virtually snatches the bags from him, marching out of the shop before he can even get out a whispered, “ten pee.”

  We hurry home, the bottles clanking in time to Julie’s steps, and I can’t help thinking they sound ominously like the chimes of doom. How come we’re back where we started, after all this work? The irony is, Julie knows exactly what she needs to do. She just won’t do it. And working out why that might be is the hardest thing of all. I console myself with the fact that there’s Barkrun this Sunday morning, sure that the moment Julie and Tom set eyes on each other again, they’ll realize they’ve both been silly for not calling, get together, and live happily ever after.

  Mainly because the idea that they won’t just doesn’t bear thinking about.

  31

  It’s been the best part of a week, and Julie’s back in the same old funk she was in after she and Luke parted company. She’s back to phoning in sick at work again, though I don’t think she really is ill, even though once or twice she’s even thrown up noisily in the bathroom first thing: the vomiting’s more likely a result of her drinking herself to sleep every night. More worryingly, she has a general sadness about her that seems to be getting worse. Things are so bad that even when we’re stopped by a little girl and her mother on the way to the park, and the little girl is fussing over me and her mother says, “You should ask what the doggy’s name is,” and the girl puts her face close to mine and says to me, “What’s your name?” it doesn’t even provoke a hint of a smile on Julie’s face.

  The worst thing is, Julie still won’t do anything about her sulk. It’s obvious she’s upset because Tom still hasn’t called, and yet, for some reason that’s beyond me, she won’t call him either. And while it’s perhaps understandable (and a bit of a relief!) that she doesn’t want to take me to Barkrun on Sunday, the knock-on effect (no walks that might take us within a mile of Tom’s office, or anywhere near Dot’s house, or cross his route to work, or even his running route), is making my life a little awkward.

  And this is what I don’t understand. If I’m hungry, I go and wait next to my bowl until Julie fills it. If I need a walk, I stand by the front door, until she takes me out for one. If I want Julie to get up and let me out into the garden, I’ll scratch on the back of her bedroom door until I get the desired result. But Julie won’t do any of this. Instead, she seems to be waiting for the phone to ring, without doing anything to influence it.

  I learned from Frasier that there’s a famous quote from someone called Einstein about how the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Well, inversely, that’s Julie, doing nothing over and over again except drowning her sorrows, yet she’s still thinking something might happen. This means I have to get involved fast.

  Which is why, on Friday evening when Priya comes round for another episode of Game of Thrones, I decide I’ll play a game of my own. Cleverly biding my time until Julie goes to the toilet, thus leaving me and Priya in the living room, I take the opportunity to run over to the French doors and scratch frantically at them.

  “Do you need to go out?” says Priya, though the question’s evidently rhetorical, as she’s already opening the doors for me.

  With a grateful snort, I run on out into the garden to where I’ve strategically placed my favorite knobbly rubber chew toy behind Julie’s huge collection of empty wine bottles that are meant for the recycling. Priya’s remained indoors, so—having anticipated this—I start barking. Sure enough, after a moment or two, she comes outside to see what all the fuss is about.

  “What is it, Doug?” she says, making her way over to where I’m sitting in front of approximately a dozen empty bottles of Chardonnay. In truth, the stale wine smell’s making me feel a bit queasy, but I keep my resolve, and do that “eye-flicking” thing between my toy and Priya, until she spots it.

  “How on earth did your toy get...? Jesus, Jules!”

  As Priya counts the bottles, then double-checks them in disbelief, I realize my plan has worked. She was here for my party last week, and afterward, she and Sanj helped Julie take the stack of empty bottles that were here to the recycling bin. You don’t have to be a genius to work out that all of these bottles are new this week.

  She stands in the yard with me for a moment, then she gives me a look, before stepping carefully over them to retrieve my chew.

  “Here you go, Doug,” she says, so I gently take it from her fingers, and give a wag of my tail. As I gnaw the toy happily, Priya takes one last look at the bottles, then smiles at me.

  “Well, someone looks like they’ve got what they wanted,” she says, and I wag my tail even more frantically.

  Because I’m pretty sure I have.

  32

  It’s the following evening, and thanks no doubt to my skillful maneuvering the previous one, Priya and Sanj have decided to stage an intervention. Which basically means coming around with Julie’s dad and inviting Julie and me back to their house for dinner.

  Even though we all know it’s an intervention—mainly because Julie’s “what’s going on?” as they virtually bundled her into their car was met with “we’re staging an intervention”—it takes until he is well into his second oversize bottle of Cobra beer before an evidently previously-briefed Sanj dares to bring up the subject.

  “Well, if you want a man’s point of view, you need to take the lead.”

  “What’s the point?” says Julie, miserably. “He’s obviously not interested.”

  “One way to find out,” says Priya. “Just call him.”

  “Or not,” says Sanj. “Send him a text.”

  “No, j
ust call him. He’ll be flattered. Plus you can’t ignore a call. Whereas a text...”

  Julie stares at her plate for a moment, then she puts down her knife and fork. “As much as I appreciate the benefit of your extensive dating knowledge, tell me again how you and Priya got together?” she says, dismissively, but Sanj just shakes his head.

  “I’m sorry, but...”

  “But what?” spits Julie.

  Sanj takes a sip of his beer, realizes he’s finished his bottle, then reaches over and helps himself to Priya’s, and maybe because he’s technically now on his third beer—as I’ve certainly never heard him talk like this before—the next sentence that comes out of his mouth surprises us all. “It’s just so bloody frustrating.”

  “What is?”

  “You! Especially all that time you were with Luke. And now, this refusal to do something about someone who actually likes you...”

  “Luke liked me.”

  Sanj makes the “ha!” face, embellishing it with a loud “Ha!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that you could have fooled me, judging by how he treated you, and yet you hung in there...” He gestures toward her with his bottle, ironically in the way a cobra might before striking. “In fact, I’m beginning to think the only reason you were with Luke was because he was married and not going to leave his wife, so you’d always have something to complain about in your usual ‘woe is me’ kind of way, with the knowledge that you’d never have to...” he makes a pair of bunny ears “...‘woman’ up and have a normal relationship.

  “And how do I know that? Because the one time you finally get the chance to have one with a normal guy, you hit the first bump in the road—for whatever reason—and you not only run a mile away, but you spend all your time telling anyone who’ll listen that it’s because of you, and that you’ll never find a man...”

  Sanj pauses for another mouthful of beer, and we’re all still too stunned to say anything in the gap. “And do you know what the most frustrating thing is? You’re forever asking Priya what to do, and Priya listens patiently, and gives you advice—good advice—but then you never take it. I’ve lost count of the times Priya’s come home after a night with you, rolling her eyes at your intransigence, your refusal to accept that it’s not them, it’s you...”

  Priya starts into action. “That’s not true, Jules. Honest. I...”

  “Yes it is,” says Sanj. “Julie needs to hear this, so I’m not going to sugarcoat anything.”

  He takes another gulp of beer, and turns his attention back to Julie. “Each time you find yourself in exactly the same position, but what changes have you made to try to get yourself out of it? None. So please, tell me something. What is it about being in a normal relationship that scares you so much that you can’t—sorry, won’t—do it?”

  I get up from my position under the table by Sanj’s feet and pad across to the far side of the room to get a better vantage point. Julie’s sitting there, openmouthed. Priya’s staring at Sanj with what might either be horror or wide-eyed admiration on her face. Julie’s dad is doing his best to keep eating. And Sanj? To his credit, he seems to be holding his nerve.

  “Okay. Let me put it another way,” he says. “What was it about Luke that made him such an attractive proposition?”

  “Well, he... I mean, I...” Julie looks like she’s floundering, and not just because she’s been put on the spot.

  “I knew he was bad news. Priya knew he was bad news. Your dad knew he was bad news. Even Doug could tell.”

  Julie looks at me accusingly, but I can’t meet her gaze.

  “We all knew he was never going to leave his wife, mainly because these people never do. So unless the sex was amazing—sorry, Jim—and looking at Luke, I find that hard to believe, I can’t think of one single reason why on earth you stuck with it for so long. Unless...”

  “Unless?”

  This comes from Priya, rather than Julie.

  “You just don’t want to be happy,” says Sanj, quietly.

  For a moment, we all just sit there, too stunned to say anything.

  Sanj is staring at Julie, Julie’s staring at her plate, Priya’s alternately staring at the both of them, and Julie’s dad appears to be fascinated by something on the label of his beer bottle.

  “Where on earth did all that come from?” asks Julie eventually, and Sanj shrugs.

  “You’re not the only one who’s addicted to Frasier.”

  Then Julie’s face starts to...well, “crumple up” is the best way I can think of to describe it, and her chest starts to heave, then she lets out this wail, and the wail turns into sobs, and before you know it, she’s bawling her eyes out.

  “Oh, Jules...” Priya reaches over and envelops her in a hug, and I rush across and start to nuzzle her leg.

  Sanj is looking terribly guilty, but I don’t think he should feel that way at all, because he’s only said what all of us have been thinking. Besides, Julie’s tears don’t strike me as upset ones. They sound more like relief. And a release. As if finally, someone’s had the guts to call her out.

  “That’s because... Because... I...” Julie’s hard to understand, mainly because she’s doing more sobbing than speaking. “Don’t...deserve...to...be.”

  “Don’t be silly.” Priya’s holding her close, and gently stroking her hair. “Everyone deserves to be happy.”

  “Do they?”

  “Of course they do!” says Julie’s dad.

  “But...” Julie reaches for a piece of kitchen towel from the roll on the table, and blows her nose so loudly it makes me jump. “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?” says Priya.

  “You know!” says Julie, but when it’s evident that we don’t, she shakes her head. “Falling in love.”

  “What on earth for?” says Julie’s dad. “It’s the best feeling in the world.”

  “Maybe.” Julie dabs at her eyes with the kitchen towel. “But when you lose someone, it’s the worst!”

  Julie’s dad sits back in his chair, a little stunned. “What’s that got to do with the price of fish?” he says.

  “You remember how devastated you were when you lost Mum?”

  Julie’s dad’s voice falters a little. “Something I’ll never forget, love.”

  Julie reaches across the table and takes his hand in both of hers. “What if that happens to me? What if I meet someone, and fall in love like you and Mum did, and I lose him? I’ve seen how badly that hurts, and...” She sniffs loudly. “I don’t think I could survive it.”

  “Yes, love, but...” Julie’s dad, someone who normally has a quick word or a snappy comeback for all occasions, actually looks as if he doesn’t know how to respond. “That’s like saying, I don’t know, that you never want to get behind the wheel of a car, because one day you might have a crash. I mean, you might, especially the way you drive, but to miss out on the pleasure of driving simply because of a fear of...” He sighs, then jump-shifts his chair closer to Julie’s so he can slip an arm around her shoulders.

  “The truth? When I lost your mum, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Can’t have been much fun for her either, mind,” he adds, with a wink. “But I got through it. People are more resilient than you think. And while yes, it was horrible, terrible, awful, I’ll tell you something. I’d go through it all again even if I knew what was going to happen. Because however bad the pain of loss is, it’s nothing compared to the joy of true love.”

  I take a pace or two back, feeling comforted by the tableau in front of me. Julie’s dad is sitting there, cradling Julie, rocking her slowly from side to side. Priya’s sobbing silently next to them, though the slightest of smiles keeps appearing on her face. Sanj looks like he’s wondering whether it’s okay to go and get himself another beer. Which, after a moment, is what he does.

  I’m not
a psychiatrist—I don’t think it’s allowed, and apparently those “therapy” dogs aren’t the same thing—but I can kind of see what Julie’s been doing. And the problem is how to convince someone that the benefits of love outweigh the potential pain of losing it. Especially if they’ve got nothing to use as a touchstone.

  “Hey,” says Julie’s dad, after a moment. “All we’re asking you to do is take some of your own advice.”

  “My advice?”

  “You told me to ask Dot out. ‘Because you’ll never know, otherwise,’ you said.”

  “I’m not sure those were my exact...”

  “And I’m really glad you did.” He smiles. “I should never have let what happened with your mum hold me back for so long. And you shouldn’t either. Just give it a try with Tom, love. See what happens. Because you’ll never know otherwise. And I’d hate for you to miss out. We all would. And if anyone deserves to be happy? Well, after what you’ve been through with Luke, I think we can all agree that it’s you.”

  There’s a murmur of assent from Priya and Sanj, and Julie’s dad gives Julie a final squeeze. Then he reaches down to pat me encouragingly on the head, as if he’s telling me it’s down to me to make sure she and Tom get together.

  And although it’s in a roundabout way, that’s exactly what I do.

  33

  Perhaps thanks to me fetching Julie her phone from the coffee table and pointedly dropping it in her lap while she’s having her breakfast, Julie calls Tom the following morning. While he sounds a little surprised to hear from her, he leaps at the chance to see Julie again. And less than ten hours later, we’re all sitting in the pub.

  Julie’s opted for a small glass of wine, which she’s nursing, while Tom’s drinking a beer, and the smile hasn’t left his face since we turned up.

  “Did you always want to be a V-E-T?” asks Julie, after they’ve got through their initial round of small talk.