You took your time realising it! OK, come on, cheer up and put on that vet programme I like. We’ll have a girls’ night in, shall we?
‘Absolutely, Prudence. With a nice glass of chilled white wine, I think, don’t you?’
Sadly, there didn’t seem to be any left in the fridge. I had to make do with apple juice. And Ruth sulked in her bedroom for the rest of the evening.
CHAPTER 7
That week, apart from the fact that Nick didn’t come round and Ruth’s mood didn’t improve one iota, life went on pretty much as usual. Pennycombe Bay was becoming busier and livelier by the day, with more and more holidaymakers relaxing on the beaches or wandering around the little streets, looking in the shops or reading the menus outside cafés and restaurants. Up on the cliff path where I often walked Prudence, parents helped their children to fly kites in the stiff sea breeze. The July sunshine was becoming warmer, and I went out and about in shorts and T-shirts, enjoying the sun on my tanned arms and legs.
Jim and I took turns visiting Vera; he insisted on getting the bus to the hospital when it was his turn, and a taxi home. When I protested about what it would cost him, he laughed.
‘And what else do I have to spend my money on? Nights out clubbing? Posh meals out on my own?’
So I gave in; it seemed to be making him happy to know his visits were helping Vera’s recovery. And she was recovering, albeit slowly and with a lot of fuss! Neither Jim nor I were fooled by her complaints: it was plainly obvious that despite everything, she was enjoying her time in hospital. She had the company of the other patients, some of whom were too ill to respond to her attempts at conversation, but it didn’t stop her trying. And, probably for the first time ever, she was being looked after, and however much she pretended not to like it, it was doing her good.
During one of my visits, Vera and the other patients suddenly became animated as a young woman came into the ward, carrying a basket.
‘It’s her!’ Vera hissed at me. ‘The volunteer. With the cat.’
I turned to look, immediately interested, as the woman, who I soon learned was called Annette, sat down next to the bed of the patient opposite us and opened the basket to reveal a large, long-haired black cat. The patient, a frail-looking woman who was propped up in bed and attached to an array of tubes, smiled as the cat was gently held out to her, and she lifted a pale thin arm to stroke him.
‘Can I have a go next, Annette?’ Vera called out loudly, as if the cat were a toy to be passed around a group of children. I cringed, but Annette looked up and smiled.
‘Of course, Vera. I’ll be over to you in a minute.’
While Vera stroked the cat, whose name was Ernie, and talked to him about the damn stupid young doctor who had apparently offended her that day by asking if she was normally able to look after herself at home, I turned to Annette and asked her, a little shyly, if she volunteered with Pets As Therapy.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she said. ‘You’ve heard of us, then?’
‘I know someone else who’s recently started. He goes to Bay View House, the care home, once a week, with his dog. Perhaps you know him: Nick Abbott?’
She shook her head. ‘We don’t really get any opportunities to meet up with the other volunteers, unfortunately. It’s a great thing to do, though. Does your friend enjoy it?’
‘Yes.’ I felt myself blush. ‘He’s not really my friend, though, he’s my cousin’s boyfriend. We just talk about our dogs.’
‘You’ve got a dog too? Have you thought about volunteering yourself?’ she asked.
‘Nick’s suggested it. But … well, I don’t know. I’m … a bit busy …’
She nodded, smiling, and I looked away. It had sounded pathetic, and I knew it. I was no busier than anyone else, probably less so than most. And being here now, seeing how much pleasure Vera and the other patients were getting from Ernie’s visit, how little Annette really had to do to make such a difference to their stay in hospital, I felt ridiculous and a bit ashamed.
I could do this, I told myself sternly. I knew I’d find it difficult, interacting with strangers, but I wasn’t a child, a shy five-year-old who had to be persuaded to say hello to her new teacher. I needed to push myself, and it would be a chance for me to do something good with my life.
‘Perhaps I’ll think about it,’ I said now to Annette, and she smiled again, probably assuming they were empty words.
By the time I’d got home from the hospital, I’d made a decision. I had a look at the PAT website and before I could change my mind I filled in the online application. There were questions about Pru’s suitability, all of which I could truthfully answer positively. She was well behaved, didn’t jump up, was gentle and (usually) quiet, and loved being fussed and groomed. I gathered that she’d need to be assessed by someone before we were accepted, but I had no doubts about her. Fortunately, there weren’t any questions about whether she had imaginary conversations or held wild parties with her friends!
That Saturday morning, during my morning walk on the beach with Prudence, I was staring dreamily at the sea as usual, when there was a shout from behind me.
‘Hey, Jess!’
It was Nick, of course. I hadn’t seen him since the previous weekend when he’d come back from the Cotswolds with Ruth. I hadn’t been consciously avoiding him, but I certainly hadn’t been looking out for him, either. If things weren’t good between him and Ruth I was going to stay well out of it, after the way she’d spoken to me. But despite the fact that I kept my head turned and pretended not to hear him calling me, it seemed Nick had other ideas – and so did Buddy, who’d already found Prudence! The pair of them were soon chasing each other in circles on the beach, splashing in and out of the sea, tails wagging frantically, ecstatic at being reunited.
‘What’s going on, Jess?’ he asked as soon as he was in front of me and I could no longer ignore him. ‘Have I done something to offend you?’
I hadn’t expected him to be quite so straight to the point, and I caught my breath, flustered.
‘Of course not,’ I managed eventually. ‘Sorry, I was miles away, staring at the sea, I didn’t hear you.’
‘Right.’ He smiled, looking unconvinced. ‘And all the other times recently? When you’ve given me the cold shoulder at your house?’
‘You haven’t even been round recently,’ I countered. The truth was, I was so pleased to see him, so badly wanted to slip back into our old way of chatting about our dogs, that I was struggling to contain myself. ‘If you had, I’d have told you my news.’
In actual fact I wouldn’t have done, obviously. Ruth would not have liked it one bit!
‘What news?’ he said.
‘I’ve decided to volunteer for Pets As Therapy.’
‘That’s brilliant, Jess. Have you filled in the application? Do you want me to talk to the people at the care home, to see if they’d like you to visit there too?’
‘No.’ I was already regretting being so impulsive. Why tell him, when we’d probably never be allowed another opportunity to talk about it together? And anyway, even standing here talking to Nick was asking for trouble. If Ruth found out, she’d be furious. She’d already threatened to throw me out of the house if I didn’t stop ‘flirting’ with him. ‘No,’ I went on, glancing over my shoulder, ridiculously imagining spies everywhere watching us chatting together. ‘I think I’d like to visit the hospital, if they’ll let me.’
‘OK, no worries. But look, if there’s anything you need to know …’ He paused and pointed towards the beach café. It was nine o’clock and they’d just opened. ‘How about we have a quick chat now, over a coffee and a croissant?’
‘No! I mean, sorry, but no thank you, I really need to … um, get back and do some washing.’ I pretended to look at my watch. ‘Come on, Pru. Time to go!’
He put a hand on my arm. ‘Are you annoyed with me for upsetting Ruth? I can explain—’I sighed. ‘To be honest, Nick, I really don’t want to get involved in your arguments.’
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‘Who said we’d argued? We haven’t, Jess. But I’m as fed up with Ruth’s moods as you probably are.’
I flinched, immediately uncomfortable, but he just shrugged and went on: ‘Look, it’s up to you, of course, if you need to get back to your washing. But I’m having a quick coffee. If you want to join me, we can chat about Pets As Therapy for five minutes.’ He paused, watching my face. ‘I won’t tell Ruth, if you won’t,’ he added calmly. ‘Although, if I’m going be made to feel like I’m being unfaithful every time I have a cup of coffee with someone, quite frankly the relationship’s doomed already.’
‘That might be true, but at least you’re not likely to be turfed out of your home because of it,’ I said, before I could stop myself.
‘What?’ he said.
We stared at each other for a moment.
‘I shouldn’t have said that,’ I said. ‘I’d better go—’
‘No. You’d better come and have that coffee, and tell me what you mean. Seriously, Jess, I want to know. It concerns me, after all.’
He whistled to Buddy, and turned to walk up the beach, without waiting to see whether I’d follow. I wrestled miserably with my indecision. I’d already said more than I should have done. What if he was angry with Ruth now, because of what I’d told him? What if he finished with her? I wouldn’t want that; I might find her difficult and annoying at times, but I didn’t want to be responsible for her unhappiness.
‘Wait, Nick!’ I called after him. I looked round for Prudence, but needless to say, she was already chasing after Buddy. ‘All right, I’m coming.’ I followed him into the café, we found a table and I nodded silently when he asked if I wanted milk in my coffee.
‘One black coffee with sugar, one white without,’ Kevin repeated tonelessly as Nick gave him our order. I glanced up at Kevin as he bustled behind the counter to make our drinks. He looked thoroughly miserable. Presumably Dan still hadn’t said yes to marriage. Maybe he hadn’t been joking about it. I certainly hoped they weren’t really going to split up over it. Their beloved Missy was parading in front of Buddy and Pru, her nose in the air, seeming to enjoy taunting them with her indifference to them, and I felt sad to think that eventually she might have to live with only one of her ‘daddies’. It seemed as if nobody was happy around here.
‘So: Ruth’s threatened to throw you out of the house?’ Nick said, once again coming straight to the point as soon as he’d put our mugs down on the table. ‘Is that right? You’re saying she’ll evict you, if you talk to me?’
‘It’s not quite like that. I shouldn’t even have told you,’ I said again. I fidgeted in my chair, feeling awkward and uncertain how to go on. ‘I don’t suppose she meant it, anyway. She was just feeling a bit insecure. It doesn’t matter, Nick. I don’t blame her: it annoyed her when we kept talking about dogs. After all, she doesn’t really like them—’
‘She doesn’t like dogs?’ He put his mug down with a thump. ‘She’s always told me she loves them, and that she’d have one herself if it wasn’t for …’ He hesitated, and then went on: ‘… for the fact that you didn’t want Prudence to have to share the house with another dog.’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘She made that up, didn’t she? I should have realised.’
‘I didn’t know she’d told you that. Look, she really likes you, that’s all. She just wants things to go right between you—’
‘Well, telling me lies wasn’t the best way to go about it, was it? I should have known she wasn’t a dog lover! All the faces she pulls when Buddy so much as barks to go out or come in, the way she looks at the kitchen floor to see if he’s trodden in any mud or shed any hairs—’
‘Yes, well, it is her house, and she’s being good enough to let me keep Prudence there.’
He gave me a little smile as he stirred his coffee. ‘I realise you’re going to defend her, Jess. But I can’t believe she’s been telling you not to talk to me. That’s ridiculous. It makes me even more determined to break things off.’
‘What?’ It was my turn now to bang my mug down on the table. ‘No! You don’t mean that! Just because of what I’ve said … I really shouldn’t have … I don’t want you to—’
‘Jess, it isn’t just because of what you’ve told me. I was already getting fed up with her moods.’
‘You had some sort of a row, didn’t you, while you were away?’ I was so worried by now that I’d said the wrong thing and made everything worse, I’d almost forgotten my shyness. ‘You must have done. She’s been miserable ever since. Why don’t you just try to make it up with her?’
‘No, I’ve told you already, we didn’t have a row. She just … took offence at something I said. Refused to discuss it – and it was important.’
I waved my hands in the air, feeling exasperated. I wasn’t exactly best placed to be a relationship counsellor, but I needed to try. ‘Well, look, I’m sure all relationships have their ups and downs. Just give her a call, I know she wants to—’
‘But there’s another complication, you see,’ he interrupted me, suddenly fixing me with his bright blue eyes and – to my shock and embarrassment – reaching across the table to grab hold of my hand. ‘I think I like someone else.’
‘Oh!’ I wrestled my hand free and pushed my chair back slightly. Sensing my discomfort, Prudence, who’d been tired out by trying, and failing, to engage Missy in play, and was now lying curled up against Buddy under the table, jumped to her feet and barked loudly. ‘Quiet, Pru!’ I said. I got to my feet and added, to Nick: ‘I really don’t think you should be telling me this. We shouldn’t be talking at all. I only wanted to tell you about joining Pets As Therapy, and somehow … we’ve started talking about Ruth, and I don’t want to hear any more, or say any more, so I’m just going to pay for my coffee and go home, OK?’
‘OK,’ he said quietly. ‘But at least let me finish, now I’ve started telling you, or I might never get another opportunity. What I’m trying to say, Jess, is that it’s you. I want to finish with Ruth because – quite apart from all the other reasons – I’d rather be with you. I want to be with you, and I think you want that too. Don’t you?’
‘What?’ I yelped. Prudence barked again, and Buddy and Missy both started to join in, but I was too shocked even to try to quieten them – or even to worry, for once, about what I was saying, about how rudely it might be coming across. I was hot with panic and embarrassment. ‘No! No, I don’t want that! What are you talking about? How could you think that? I wouldn’t – I couldn’t do that to my cousin – for God’s sake!’
‘But you would otherwise?’ he said, smiling in a way that made me start to wonder if he was actually enjoying my discomfort.
‘No!’ I was cross now, with myself as well as with him. I thought I’d been hiding how much I fancied him, but obviously I’d given myself away, and now he thought he could take advantage of that and get me lined up as his next girlfriend as soon as he’d finished with Ruth. Probably thought he was onto a sure thing with me, the pathetic, dumpy, quiet little cousin who’d hardly ever had a boyfriend. Probably thought I’d be grateful! I’d never felt so humiliated. Well, it wasn’t going to happen. ‘Come on, Pru,’ I said, my voice shaking a little. ‘We’re going home.’
‘If you change your mind …’ he started to say, and I turned to stare at him. He was still smiling – a kind of regretful smile now, so that for just a split second I hesitated, wondering if I’d got it wrong. Perhaps … perhaps he wasn’t teasing? Perhaps he really did like me? After all, he’d always been so nice to me before: why would he suddenly want to make fun of me? But I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t afford to shillyshally about this. He needed to understand that I was not going to hurt Ruth.
‘I won’t change my mind,’ I said firmly. I fastened Pru’s lead and got some coins out of my purse to pay for the coffee.
‘Pity,’ he said, watching me. ‘We have such a lot in common: the dogs, Pets As Therapy … Well, never mind. I understand that you’re being loyal to your cousin.
Perhaps the moods and the booze don’t bother you.’
I stopped in my tracks. ‘What do you mean, the booze?’
‘You really don’t know?’ His tone had changed. ‘You’ve lived with her for how long? Two years? Longer? And you haven’t even noticed? My God, she must be good at hiding the empties. She must take them to work with her, or put them in the neighbours’ recycling bins! Jess, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but your cousin is an alcoholic.’
‘No!’ I said. But even as I said it, even as I shook my head in protest, I was picturing the wine holders in the fridge, always empty despite the bottles I sometimes put in there. I was remembering the chink of bottles in bags Ruth brought home, bottles I hardly ever saw, after those bags were carried upstairs to her bedroom. ‘But I’ve never seen her drunk!’
‘She’s a functioning alcoholic,’ he said quietly. ‘She needs it – her body needs it – but she’s so used to it, you’re right: she doesn’t appear drunk. But does she ever drive anywhere? No: because she knows she’s permanently over the limit. Why do you think she commutes to Exeter by train? Do you ever smell her breath? No: because she constantly sucks mints. This is what she didn’t like me talking to her about, last weekend – why she’s moping around now and why I haven’t been back since. I’ve given her a kind of ultimatum – for her own sake – told her to go to Alcoholics Anonymous. If she’s not prepared to do that, I’m not going to see her any more.’ He smiled. ‘That’s one reason, anyway. You’re the other one.’
I was too shocked and upset about Ruth to even attempt to respond to that last part. I just stood for a moment, staring at him, shaking my head.
‘This is all too much to take in,’ I said eventually. I supposed I ought to be thanking him for warning me about Ruth – even if he’d got it wrong about her drinking. But all I could manage to do was to put some coins down on the table for my coffee – ignoring his protest about wanting to pay – and say a shaky goodbye.
The Pet Shop at Pennycombe Bay Page 6