CHAPTER EIGHT
That’s what Bertie had needed, Gretta realised, when she’d been able to work uninterrupted for three hours yesterday after they’d returned from their long walk. It had worn him out. She’d felt a little tired herself, but in a good way. She’d also realised just how unfit she’d become. Maybe having Bertie for a while would be good for her, as it would get her out of the house twice a day, and into the fresh air. It cut into her work time, but surprisingly, she discovered she’d been more productive than usual, as though the unaccustomed exercise had energised her.
And Bertie had slept better last night, which meant she’d slept better too.
Gretta chuckled wryly. She was referring to the dog like she would a baby. Better night’s sleep indeed! Once again, he’d spent it on her bed, and once again she’d woken up with his snuffly little face far too close to hers for comfort ( her comfort: he’d been perfectly happy). And she’d been forced to change the sheets yet again, but the situation would hopefully improve tonight as she was praying someone would claim him today. He was quite a sweet little creature and needed to be with someone who could love him the way he deserved to be loved.
After a quick walk to do the necessary this morning, Bertie settled down at her feet as she sat at her computer. She still couldn’t move without him shadowing her, which she continued to find disconcerting (a dog pawing at the bathroom door and whining to be let in was rather bothersome). If he stayed with her much longer, his separation anxiety would have to be addressed – and soon , because she needed to go shopping. She supposed she could do her weekly shop online, but damn it, she refused to be confined to the house because of a dog.
Her thoughts turned to Jakob and his promise of help. He was due to pop in after work today, but she honestly couldn’t wait until then to buy groceries because she was almost out of milk and bread. The corner shop was an option, but wherever she did her shopping Bertie was going to be left on his own for a while, so she may as well go to the supermarket in Thornbury and do what needed to be done. Bite the bullet, so to speak, because Jakob had warned her that curing a dog of separation anxiety wouldn’t be quick. In fact, he’d said that it wasn’t a cure but should be thought of in terms of managing it. But if Gretta wanted to eat, she couldn’t possibly wait until Bertie’s separation anxiety was manageable .
Not fully trusting the dog to behave himself while she was out (okay, not trusting him at all , since he didn’t have a very good track record so far when left unsupervised) she decided to take him next door and leave him in his own house for the duration. It was familiar, and a few more scratches on the kitchen door’s paintwork wouldn’t matter.
So that’s what she did; although during the short drive to Thornbury, Bertie’s disbelieving and reproachful expression played on her mind. To say he was unhappy at being left alone was an understatement.
Mindful that he was probably howling his little head off at this very minute, Gretta didn’t hang about. However, the supermarket was busy and after she’d whizzed up and down the aisles, praying she hadn’t forgotten anything essential, she was forced to queue to pay.
Irritably, she tapped her foot, continually scanning the checkouts for the next available free one.
Two women were in front of her and seemed to be having a serious conversation, and when she heard one of them mention the name Jake, Gretta’s ears pricked up. They weren’t talking about the Jakob she knew, but it had caught her attention, and now that it had she couldn’t help listening.
‘Your problem is that you always think the grass is greener, when it really isn’t,’ a woman with a sharp bob said to her companion, who was around Gretta’s age. She had long hair caught up in a high ponytail and was wearing a considerable amount of make-up for a trip to the supermarket,
She replied, ‘I know. I found that out. But Jake was always so intense, and I wanted some fun .’
‘That’s because he thought the world of you, Clare. He used to worship the ground you walked on.’
‘I know,’ Clare, the one with the ponytail, repeated with a sigh. ‘I think that was the problem.’
The first woman was shaking her head. ‘I wish Perry looked at me the way Jake used to look at you. He adored you.’
‘Alright, Kelly, no need to rub it in.’ Clare’s tone was sharp. ‘And there’s no need to keep harping on about how badly I treated him either, because I know that too. I was a cow to him.’
Kelly snorted. ‘And the rest. Did you really think he’d forgive you for sleeping with Byron? You pushed him too far. Have you seen him yet?’ Clare shook her head and Kelly asked, ‘How do you think he’ll react?’
‘I honestly don’t know. I’ve been so stupid, Kel. If I could turn the clock back, I would. I’ll never find a man who loved me like Jake did. I—’
‘There’s a till free.’ Kelly interrupted her and pushed her overflowing trolley towards it, leaving Clare with her half empty one, biting her lip, and Gretta with half a story and the suspicion that the woman hadn’t known how lucky she’d been.
Not all men thought the world of their wives or girlfriends. Not all men worshipped the ground they walked on. If Landon had loved her the way this unknown Jake had loved Clare, things might have been very different indeed.
Feeling melancholy, she paid for her groceries and headed home to the only man in her life now: a small black and white dog – who was only with her because he had nowhere else to go.
Jakob didn’t work a traditional nine to five, Monday to Friday, and today he was on a split shift because someone had phoned in sick this morning, which had scuppered his plans for the day.
He’d started work at The Forever Home early, at around six-thirty, but his day had begun even earlier than that since he had his own dogs to see to beforehand. After a brisk walk along the canal as the sun was rising, he’d left the dogs at home tucking into their breakfasts, happy in the knowledge that his dad would pop around later to pick them up and take them to his house for a while, so they wouldn’t be left alone for long.
Jakob didn’t know how he’d manage if it wasn’t for his parents. They were always happy to help and never made a fuss when two dogs became three overnight, which had happened several times over the past few years.
But due to the sickness of a member of staff and him having to now do a split shift, Jakob was currently on his way to their house. He had a couple of hours spare before he had to go back to work, so he thought he’d take the dogs out again to save his parents having to.
Even though he’d phoned ahead to let them know he was coming, his dad had his walking boots and coat on, and three leads in his hand.
After greeting two ecstatic dogs and a more cautious and reserved one (Jakob was pleased to see Trixie give a tentative wag of her tail), Jakob said, ‘No need for you to take them out, Dad. I’ll do it.’
His mother bustled out from the kitchen and Jakob gave her a hug. Dad had retired a couple of years ago, but Mum still worked part-time. Soon, she would give up work completely and Jakob would have to reconsider his dog sitter options. He didn’t want to restrict his parents’ ability to go out and about whenever they wanted. They were his dogs and it was down to him to make sure their needs were met.
‘Do you mind if I come with you?’ his dad asked. ‘I could do with stretching my legs.’
Jakob caught his mum and dad exchanging a look and he wondered what was going on.
He quickly found out, because no sooner had his father got Jakob on his own than he said, ‘Your mum bumped into Clare yesterday. She was coming out of the hairdressers. Clare, not your mother.’ He looked uncomfortable, as though he’d drawn the short straw. And maybe he had.
Jakob said nothing, but he could feel the tension as his shoulders hunched and his jaw clenched. He didn’t want to have this conversation.
But it looked like he was going to, as his dad ploughed on, ‘Your mother’s worried about you.’
‘She needn’t be.’
‘Byron isn’t with her. Clare is on her own.’
After Clare had slept with his best friend ( ex best friend, now) and Jakob had found out, the pair of them had left Thornbury for pastures unknown. Rather, Jakob hadn’t known where they’d gone, and he hadn’t wanted to. He’d just been glad that he wouldn’t have the worry of bumping into them every time he left the house.
Looking back, he should have realised she was a bad ‘un as his dad called her, because neither Stan nor Ripley had taken to her. Clare had mostly ignored his dogs, and they had ignored her.
Jakob was realistic enough to understand that just because a dog liked someone, it didn’t mean that they were a nice person. But if a dog wasn’t keen, then Jakob took notice.
More fool him for being so in love that he’d forgotten that. Or ignored it. Either way, it had bitten him on the backside and had caused him so much heartache.
‘Are you okay, Jakob?’ His father was gazing at him with concern.
‘I’m fine.’
Fortunately, his dad must have felt that he’d done his bit in administering fatherly concern, because the conversation swiftly moved on to Trixie and how she was settling in.
‘She’s a real sweetheart,’ Dad said. ‘Your mother is quite taken with her.’ He shot Jakob a look, adding hurriedly, ‘Don’t be getting any ideas. We love borrowing yours now and again, but I wouldn’t want a dog full time. Although, I have to admit that they’re good company when your mum’s at work, and I get a nice bit of exercise when I’m out and about with them. And loads of other dog walkers stop and have a chat.’
‘They do,’ Jakob agreed, although he wasn’t one for stopping and chatting. It was stopping and chatting that had got him into trouble in the first place.
Ripley had been a puppy, and Jakob had been walking home from the vets, the dog tucked into his coat. Ripley had just had a check-up because he had a wonky back leg, which was why he’d been surrendered to the shelter. The breeder knew he was unlikely to sell the dog and had just wanted to get shot of him.
Jakob had fallen in love with the pup, and on the way home from the vet, he’d fallen in love again. This time with a woman. She’d gone all gooey and cooey over the dog, and Jakob, blissfully unaware of what he was letting himself in for, had stopped and chatted.
And he’d regretted doing so every day since he’d found out Clare wasn’t a one-man kind of woman.
But he’d loved her, damn it! And now, thanks to his concerned parents, she was in his head once again.
Thankfully, by the time he’d driven to Gretta’s house on his way back to work, he’d managed to put Clare out of his head, because he was too busy thinking about Bertie.
He hoped the dog hadn’t given Gretta the run around last night, and that he and the cat were still getting along. Zaza, like most cats, was an ace at disdain and could win an Oscar in aloofness, but she was stunning to look at, with her emerald eyes and smoke-grey fur.
Jakob, for all his insistence that he was a dog person and not a cat person, quite liked cats. He respected their air of independence and the way they only accepted affection on their terms. He wished he had been more cat. If he hadn’t been so loyal and devoted, and not to mention adoring and forgiving, Clare mightn’t have treated him so abysmally.
Stop bloody thinking about her, he scolded himself silently as he rang Gretta’s doorbell.
While he waited for her to answer, he self-consciously ran his fingers through his too-long, scruffy hair. His lack of attention to how he looked had been one of Clare’s bugbears. She’d forever been nagging him to smarten up, and he’d tried his utmost to be what she’d wanted him to be, but it had never been enough.
Gretta opened the door, a beaming smile on her face. ‘Hi.’
‘Hello,’ he replied, shuffling nervously from foot to foot, relaxing slightly when he spied Bertie at her feet.
The dog scuttled up to him, his behind waggling from side to side. Bertie being so pleased to see him, made him smile.
‘Has he been behaving himself?’ Jakob asked, his gaze on the dog.
The brief glance he’d taken at Gretta had reminded him how pretty she was. But not in an obvious way. Hers was a more natural look, and he preferred it. Clare used to spend an inordinate amount of time in front of the mirror, preening and applying goodness knows what to her face—
And why the hell was he thinking about her again?! Especially since he’d missed Gretta’s reply.
‘Pardon, I didn’t catch that?’ he said.
Gretta laughed, and Jakob risked another look. She was shaking her head ruefully.
‘He hasn’t been behaving himself at all.’ Bending down to do some ear ruffling, she said, ‘Come in and I’ll tell you all about what Bertie has been getting up to.’
She ushered him inside, and he noticed her checking the street, a quick glance up and down it, as though she was expecting someone. Jakob wondered who it might be.
Despite having spent around three hours in her company yesterday, he realised he didn’t know anything about her. They’d not spoken about anything personal, which had suited him just fine, but he found himself becoming curious about her.
After closing the door, Gretta led him and Bertie (who was still dancing around his legs and begging for attention) into the sitting room.
‘Would you like a drink?’ she asked. ‘I’m having one. I’ve been to the supermarket and haven’t long got back. By the time I fetched Howl-a-Lot from Mr Butler’s house and put the groceries away, it was nearly time for you to call, so I thought I’d wait and have one with you. Do you prefer tea or coffee?’
‘Coffee, please.’
She disappeared into the kitchen, and Jakob crouched down to pet Bertie. Bertie, delighted at the turn of events, stood on his back legs and placed his front ones on Jakob’s knee. His tongue lolled out as Jakob scratched his ears.
Drinks made, Gretta told him that Bertie had howled and barked from the second she’d left him to the second she’d returned, and the reason she knew this was because her neighbour, Harriet, had been desperate to tell her all about the hideous noise.
‘I must admit it was rather loud. I could hear him from the street, and he was shut in the kitchen, which is at the back of the house,’ she added.
Jakob said, ‘Hopefully I’ll be able to help with that, but it won’t be a quick fix.’
Her face fell, and he guessed she’d been hoping for a result today. Then she brightened. ‘Never mind, he mightn’t be here tomorrow.’
Inexplicably, Jakob’s heart sank. ‘You can’t wait to get rid of him, can you?’
Surprise flitted across her face. ‘He doesn’t belong to me. He belongs to whoever has inherited Mr Butler’s estate, unless he’s made a different provision for him in his will.’
That was true enough, Jakob thought, hoping that Bertie’s new owner would be found soon because the little chap deserved some stability. But until then, Gretta had stepped up to the mark – which was good of her. He must remember that. And Bertie was obviously settling in well.
‘Shall we get started?’ he suggested, taking a last gulp of the hot coffee. He got to his feet and pulled his car keys out of his pocket.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked with a frown.
‘To fetch a crate from the car. He won’t be able to do any damage if he’s in there.’
When he brought it in, Bertie trotted over to it, sniffing curiously.
‘He probably remembers it, and it might still have his scent. Can you put Mr Butler’s cardigan on the bottom for him to lie on? Hopefully, it’ll help keep him calm.’
Gretta did as he asked, folding the cardigan and placing it neatly inside.
He said, ‘Okay, you’re going to put a treat in it and try to persuade him to go in.’ He passed her a handful of doggy treats. ‘We need to get him used to the crate before we shut him in it. He needs to see that it’s non-threatening, just part of the furniture. If he shows any interest in it, I want you to reward him. And if you give him a treat, put it in there, so he has to go inside to get it. When he does, give him lots of praise.’
‘Then what? What do we do next?’
‘Nothing today.’
‘Nothing?’
‘I told you it wouldn’t be a quick fix. Give it a day or so, then you can start closing the door. Just for a second or two, with you in the room. And preferably after a good long walk, when he’s tired and ready for a nap.’
‘Oh, okay.’
‘I’ll leave the crate with you.’
‘Don’t you need it for your dogs?’
‘I’ll borrow one from work.’
‘Thanks for this. And for the advice. I’ll let you get off home.’
‘I’m not going home. I’m going back to the kennels. There are the evening feeds to do and a final round of walks.’ To his embarrassment, his stomach rumbled loudly. It must have been the mention of food, and he realised that he’d skipped lunch. He’d pick something up from the cafe in Picklewick on the way, assuming it was still open. ‘You don’t happen to know what time the cafe closes, do you?’ he asked, thinking that if it was closed, he’d grab a snack from the convenience store instead.
‘Sorry, I don’t, but I can make you another coffee before you go, save you buying one.’
His stomach gurgled again, and he winced.
‘Or something more substantial,’ she added. ‘How long have you got?’
Taken by surprise, he said, ‘I need to be back by five o’clock.’
She thrust the treats back into his hand, and he jumped when her fingers brushed his palm, the unexpected contact unnerving him.
He said, ‘It’s okay, I’ll grab something on the way—’
‘Will avocado on toast with a poached egg be okay?’
‘Um…’ He’d never eaten avocado, although Clare used to like them.
‘Get Bertie in the crate, and I’ll make you a snack. Deal?’
Jakob continued to hesitate.
‘I was going to make myself something anyway. I’ll just make a bit extra. It’s no biggie, honestly.’
‘Um, okay. Thanks.’ He wished he could stop saying um . ‘I do feel peckish. Forgot to eat lunch.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I do that sometimes.’ Then she was gone again, into the kitchen, leaving him to tempt Bertie into the crate.
Bertie knew something was up, and although Jakob could tell that the dog desperately wanted the treat, he was reluctant to venture inside. Yep, it was going to take a while to convince Bertie not to be such a Velcro dog. He seemed to have become quite attached to Gretta in just a few days, but it was understandable since his entire world had been turned upside down and she was the only constant. No wonder the little guy was so anxious.
Just before Gretta called him to come eat, her cat crept warily into the sitting room, and Jakob sat back on his haunches, waiting for Zaza to approach. Bertie, he noticed, was careful to keep a respectful distance. The dog wasn’t scared, but he was cautious, and Jakob was gratified to see that they were cohabiting without any aggro. He had no doubt that the cat had the upper hand, though.
Zaza studied him before deciding he was no threat, and that the treats Jakob held in his hand needed investigating. Jakob gave her one; then, in the interest of fairness, he gave one to Bertie.
‘It’s ready, if you want to go wash your hands,’ Gretta called, and when he sat at the table, his hands damp and smelling of the nice soap she used, she placed a plate in front of him.
‘Did he get in it?’ she asked.
‘Not a chance.’ Bertie, Jakob noticed, was sitting on her foot in the hope that something tasty would come his way. Zaza, though, seemed less interested in food, and more interested in rubbing her face against his leg.
‘It’s like he knows what’s going on,’ Gretta grumbled.
‘He’s a bright boy, so he probably does.’ Jakob popped a forkful of food into his mouth. ‘Mmm, this is good,’ then he added, ‘I feel a fraud, since the deal was that you feed me if I get him to go into the crate.’
‘You warned me it would take a while,’ she reminded him.
Silence followed as they ate, and Jakob wondered whether he should try to fill it. But the problem was, he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t do small talk. He never had. Talking about dogs, the other animals in the rescue centre, or the various aspects of his job was easy. Anything else he struggled with.
Gretta didn’t seem keen on idle chat either, and it occurred to him that she might feel just as self-conscious. He wasn’t entirely sure what her job entailed, but if she worked from home maybe she was out of practice when it came to general chit-chat.
‘Do you get lonely?’ he blurted, without thinking.
‘Excuse me?’ She looked affronted, and he hoped he hadn’t upset her.
‘Working from home. I’ve read that it can be lonely.’
‘I’ve got Zaza.’
He nodded vigorously, to show that he knew what she meant. His dogs were brilliant company, although he did sometimes miss—
Bugger! He was thinking about Clare again. He really wished he would stop doing that, especially since he didn’t miss her as such. He missed what they’d had. What he’d thought they’d had. Although, they clearly hadn’t had it, because if they’d had, she wouldn’t have had an affair. Affairs . Plural.
‘It’s been five days,’ Gretta said. ‘Only two more, then if no one comes forward, will you put him up for adoption?’
Jakob was surprised how disappointed he felt. He was right: she couldn’t wait to be rid of the dog.
‘It’s just…’ She hesitated. ‘What if it takes longer than a week to find Mr Butler’s relatives? I mean, they could be on holiday, or living abroad…?’
‘Are you suggesting we should wait a while?’
‘Is that possible?’
Jakob studied her face, trying to decipher her expression. Was it hope he saw? ‘We could, if it’s in his best interests.’ He finished the last mouthful of food.
‘Would it be?’
‘It depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On how attached he becomes. He’s started to bond with you.’
‘That’s a good thing, right?’
‘Not if he’s decided that you’re his human. He’ll be devastated all over again when it’s time for him to leave. The sooner we find him his forever home, the better it’ll be for him.’
And with that, Jakob took his leave. He had to go to work because there were other dogs who needed his love and attention.
But all the time he was there, and long into the night, he had Gretta and Bertie on his mind.