Chapter Sixteen #2
“SHE WAS IN THE GARDEN THIS MORNING WHILE HE WAS WORKING!” Florence’s voice cracked from the strain. A sudden bang from the dining room made them both flinch. “HE LET HER OUT FOR FIVE MINUTES AND NOW SHE’S GONE! IT’S BEEN OVER AN HOUR!”
Eva’s stomach dropped. Tilly never ran off. Never. She was Charlie’s constant, his one uncomplicated relationship. If something had happened to her …
“Which way did he go?”
“Towards the Minster, then the market. He’s checking all her usual spots.”
Eva ran out again, calling Tilly’s name as she went. She found Charlie near the Christmas market, frantically questioning vendors.
“Have you seen a spaniel? Black and white, very friendly. She never does this, never runs off—”
“Charlie,” Eva called.
He whirled around, and the wild desperation in his eyes made her forget everything else. His hair was sticking up where he’d been running his hands through it, and he was only wearing one sock with his hastily-pulled-on shoes.
“She’s gone,” he said, his voice cracking. “I was reading the letters, I only let her out for five minutes, and she’s just gone. What if she’s hurt? What if someone took her? What if—”
“We’ll find her,” Eva said firmly. “Where have you looked?”
“Everywhere. The Minster grounds, all around the market, Knavesmire, the museum gardens. She’s not anywhere.”
They spent the next hour searching together, calling until their voices were raw. Charlie grew more frantic with each empty street, each “Sorry, haven’t seen her” from concerned locals.
“Tilly! Tilly, come!” His voice was breaking now, desperation bleeding through. “She’s all I have.”
“Charlie—”
“Everything else is complicated,” Charlie kept talking as if Eva hadn’t spoken. “The Inn, Gran, you. But Tilly, Tilly just loves me. No questions, no conditions, just love.”
“You have—” Eva began.
“Did he offer you a job?” The question came out of nowhere as they checked behind the bins near The Horse and Hound. “Aidan. Did he offer you a position with his company?”
Eva’s heart sank. Even in his panic about Tilly, he couldn’t let go of what he’d seen. “Yes, but—”
“Of course he did.” Charlie laughed bitterly, still scanning the street for any sign of Tilly. “That’s how he works. Find the weakness, make the offer. Sophie, the city council, now you.”
“I didn’t accept it!”
“Yet.” He turned to face her fully, tears gathering in his eyes—whether from fear for Tilly or anger at her, she couldn’t tell.
“But you were tempted, weren’t you? All that travel, all those stories to uncover.
Better than being stuck in York with a failing inn and a bitter mapmaker who can’t even keep track of his own dog. ”
“That’s not—Tilly! Here, girl!” Eva called, then turned back to Charlie. “We can talk about this later. Right now, we need to find her.”
“What if we don’t?” Charlie’s voice broke completely. “What if she’s gone like everything else? My parents, Sophie, Gran, soon the inn, probably you—”
“Stop it.” Eva grabbed his shoulders. “We’re going to find her. She’s probably just found something interesting and lost track of time. You know what she’s like.”
But as another hour passed with no sign of the spaniel, even Eva began to fear the worst. They’d covered every street in central York, checked every park, every hidden corner Charlie knew.
“The river,” Charlie said suddenly, his face going pale. “What if she went to the river?”
They ran towards the Ouse River, Charlie calling Tilly’s name with increasing desperation. The December sky was darkening, making it harder to see. Soon it would be fully dark, and a black and white dog would be invisible in the shadows.
The Ouse appeared before them like a dark wound through the city, its surface black and oily in the fading light.
The water moved deceptively fast, carrying bits of debris— branches, plastic bottles, things Eva didn’t want to identify.
The current was stronger than it looked from the bridges, churning and pulling at the banks with quiet violence.
“She’s never gone to the river alone,” Eva said, trying to reassure him, but her voice came out thin. The water scared her—it was nothing like the lazy rivers back home. This was ancient and hungry, swollen with December rain.
“She’s never run off at all!” Charlie snapped, then immediately looked stricken. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”
“Scared. I know.”
They searched along the riverbank, Charlie getting closer and closer to the water’s edge, calling and calling.
The path was slippery with moss and mud, and Eva’s heart lurched every time he leaned out over the water, scanning the surface for any sign of black and white fur.
The river seemed to mock them with every splash and gurgle—was that debris hitting a bridge support, or something else?
A branch bobbing in the current looked horrifyingly like a tail for one heart-stopping moment.
“There!” Charlie pointed, scrambling down the bank. But it was just a plastic bag, caught on a submerged shopping trolley. He stood knee-deep in the freezing water, staring at it like it had personally betrayed him.
“Charlie, come back,” Eva pleaded. “You can’t go in there. The current—”
“What if she tried to swim across? What if she fell?” His voice was raw. “Dogs can swim, but if she hit her head, if the current got her—” He was wading deeper, the water now at his thighs, the cold making him gasp.
Eva grabbed his arm, pulling hard. “Charlie, stop! You can’t help her if you drown!”
They stumbled back onto the path, Charlie shaking from cold and fear.
The river continued its relentless flow, indifferent to their panic.
In the growing darkness, every shadow on the water could be Tilly, every sound could be her struggling.
His voice was almost gone now, reduced to a hoarse whisper.
“Tilly, please. Please come back.” He sank onto a bench, his wet trousers clinging to his legs, water pooling around his feet.
The Christmas lights reflected on the river’s surface, creating a mockery of stars on water that could have swallowed his best friend.
“She’s all I have that I can always rely on, Eva.
The one thing in my life that isn’t weighed down by history or regret or other people’s choices. If I’ve lost her too …”
Eva sat beside him, her own eyes burning with tears. Seeing Charlie like this—broken, desperate, stripped of all his careful defences—was devastating. She wanted to comfort him, but what comfort could she offer when Tilly was still missing?
“We’ll keep looking,” she said softly. “We won’t stop until we find her.”
Charlie looked at her then, his eyes red-rimmed and lost. “Why did you meet with him? Really?”
“To understand his plans. To know what we’re fighting against.”
“And the job?”
“I was curious,” Eva admitted. “The travel, the writing—it was tempting. But Charlie, I didn’t accept. I wouldn’t. Aidan would have me out there writing fabricated fantasies, anything for a sale. I would never do that.”
“Wouldn’t you?” His voice was hollow. “When the inn’s gone and there’s nothing keeping you here?”
Before Eva could answer, Charlie was on his feet again. “We can’t sit here. I have to keep looking.”
They searched until their feet ached and their voices were gone. The Christmas lights came on across the city, festive and bright, mocking their desperation. Somewhere in York, Tilly was lost or hurt or worse, and Charlie was unravelling with every passing minute.
“She’s all I have,” he kept saying, like a mantra. “She’s all I have left.”
And Eva, watching him fall apart, and absorbing the pain he felt realised with terrible clarity that she was falling in love with this difficult, complicated man. And he might never believe her on what he’d seen in that coffee shop, even if they found Tilly safe.
The cathedral bells chimed eight o’clock at night. They’d been searching for hours. Charlie stood in the middle of Stonegate, turning in circles, calling Tilly’s name into the darkness with a voice that had no sound left.
He looked utterly lost.
“We’ll find her,” Eva whispered, not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “We have to find her.”
But York stretched out around them, ancient and vast and full of places a small spaniel could disappear. And tomorrow was 23rd of December—the deadline for Aidan’s ‘safety net’.
If they even made it to tomorrow.