Chapter 13 #2
We’ve not spoken about his book since Monday. I think he’s waiting for me to finish it. A part of me doesn’t want to, doesn’t want to give it back.
I settle in bed and reach for it, prepared to be both impressed, riveted, and a little bit scared.
I jolt awake hours later to the book flat on my chest and the lamp still on, bathing my bedroom in a soft glow. Is that what woke me?
Maybe, but I don’t think so.
It’s still pitch-black outside, but a quick check of my phone tells me it’s almost four in the morning. I lie there for a bit, almost convinced that it was the light being left on, but then I hear it.
A cry. No, a whine.
My heart misses a beat as my imagination runs riot. I eye Charlie’s book and scowl. There is nothing out there.
Then I hear it again.
Right.
I throw off the covers and pull on my sleep pants and a hoodie. Phone in hand I head downstairs to find out what’s making that fucking noise.
I am absolutely not scared.
At all.
At least it’s not raining.
Pulling my boots on, I grab a torch from under the sink and unlock the back door.
Silence.
The outside lights we put up earlier are still on—something else I forgot—but can’t say I’m all that bothered right now. They cast enough light that I relax a little.
I strain to listen for the noise again, but there’s just the sound of the countryside at night. Might as well check around a bit now I’m out here.
It was probably foxes.
Wouldn’t surprise me if—
“Hey.”
“Ahh!” I jump a mile in the air, my phone sailing onto the grass. “Jesus Christ.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I bend over, clutching my chest, willing my heart to slow down. “You’re trying not to laugh, aren’t you?”
“Nope.”
He so is.
“Go ahead, let it out.” I straighten up as he lets out a chuckle.
“I didn’t know you could jump that high.”
“Fuck off.” I nudge him with my shoulder, and he grins. “I blame your book.”
“Oh?” His eyes light up. “You’re still reading it then?”
“Of course I am. It’s—”
There it is again.
Charlie looks at me, eyes wide. “You heard that, right? I didn’t imagine it?”
“No, I heard it.” I scoop my phone off the grass and point the torch in the direction of the noise. At least I hope it’s the same direction. “Come on.”
We follow the path towards the end of my garden. We’re almost at the hedge when we hear it once more.
I have a sinking feeling I know what it is.
And it’s not foxes.
“Is that a dog?” Charlie whispers, already crouching down.
“I think so.” I grab his arm as he reaches out. “Careful. It could bite.”
It might be dark, but I can still see his raised eyebrows. “Is it going to be less likely to bite you? Because we both know we’re not leaving it out here.”
I sigh. He has a point. I still don’t want either of us to reach in and get our fingers bitten off though.
In the end, it doesn’t matter.
The bushes move and the sorriest-looking dirty-yellow dog crawls out, straight into my lap.
“Ohh.”
Yeah.
Pretty sure we both melt on the spot.
“We need to get him—her?—inside.” Charlie nudges me. “Right?”
“Yeah.” Very carefully, I shrug out of my hoodie and use it to wrap around the dog.
“I think it’s a he.” His tail starts to slowly wag as Charlie helps me stand up, like he knows he’s safe.
Sean has told me more than one fucking awful story about people abandoning their dogs out here.
That’s how he ended up with Lucky. I really hope nobody left this poor baby out to fend for himself in this cold.
As soon as we get inside, I set him on the floor and get him some water.
I lean against the counter, and when Charlie comes to stand next to me, it seems only natural to wrap my arm around him. We both watch as the dog drains the bowl dry.
“Wow. He was thirsty.”
“Yeah.”
When the dog flops on the floor next to the water bowl, I scratch my chin, thinking. “He’s got to be hungry too.”
“For sure.”
Of course, I don’t have any dog food stashed away anywhere, but I reckon I have some cooked chicken. I get it from the fridge and show it to Charlie. “You think this’ll be okay?”
He shrugs. “I guess.”
“If he’s been outside for a while, he’s probably eaten worse.” Or nothing at all. Judging by the way he’s watching the chicken in my hand and drooling, I’m leaning towards the latter.
Bending down, I break up a couple of slices into bits and set them on the floor.
They disappear in seconds.
I give him a couple extra slices, but no more. I don’t want him to be sick. I stroke his head, and his tail starts wagging again. By this point, I’m convinced he doesn’t have a nasty bone in his body.
Charlie crouches next to me. “What are we going to do with him?”
That we makes me all warm inside. But it’s bittersweet too, because it’s Friday today, and Charlie leaves tomorrow. I clear my throat. “We need to take him to see Jerry.”
“He’s the vet, yeah?”
“Yeah.” The dog settles on the floor, head on his paws. “But we can’t do that until the morning.” I stifle a yawn, realising it’s already morning. “Well, later this morning.”
He nudges me and nods at the dog. “And for now?”
I glance at the hard kitchen floor. “He can’t sleep in here.”
Charlie snorts. “You’re such a softie. He’s been outside in the cold for god knows how long. This probably seems like a palace.” He reaches out and strokes a hand down the dog’s back, smiling when his front paws stretch out. “Have you got an old blanket or something?” Yeah, he’s as soft as me.
In the end, we make him a bed in the corner of the kitchen out of a couple of thick blankets. With a little coaxing, he crawls onto them and settles down.
We both stand there watching him before I realise what we’re doing and laugh.
“What?” Charlie frowns.
“Are we planning to just stand here and watch him sleep?”
He runs a hand over his face and huffs out a laugh. “Is it too late to go back to bed?”
I know he doesn’t mean together, but that doesn’t stop my stomach from fluttering wildly at the thought. I glance at the time on the oven.
5:15am.
I wouldn’t normally get up for another hour and a half, but I’m awake now.
I yawn then, which makes me smile. Sort of awake.
“I don’t know. By the time I fall asleep, it’ll be time to get up again.
Think I’m gonna make a cuppa instead.” I’m about to offer him one too when I realise he doesn’t have to be up any time soon; he can go back to bed and stay there.
“But you should go, no point both of us being knackered.”
That frown makes another appearance. “What time does the vets open? I assumed you’d try and get them to squeeze us in first thing. No?”
Us?
He’s killing me here.
It clearly hasn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t be going too, and that makes my heart swell and my chest ache. So I ignore the fact that after tomorrow this won’t be his problem and turn to flick the kettle on. “Coffee or tea?”