Chapter 25 Tuesday 18 June 2024 Sally #2
“What did Mr. Christensen say?” Tobes asks.
“Not much. I didn’t give him the chance. As soon as I’d asked and heard myself say it out loud, it dawned on me how late it was, that I’d woken him up, and he might have had to perform open-heart surgery the next day for all I knew—”
“Unlikely. He’s a knee surgeon,” says Ree.
“—so I just started apologizing profusely and told him to forget everything I’d said, and of course I didn’t mean it.”
“This is typical of so many women,” says Corinne. “They ask for what they want, immediately feel guilty for wanting anything at all, start apologizing—”
“Oh, it’s nothing to do with what sex you are,” Sally says impatiently. “Nothing at all. It’s people who, as children, had to bury their own true feelings at all costs to appease difficult parents who only cared how they felt and had to be pandered to.”
After a short pause, Corinne says, “True. It annoys me more when women do it, though, because I am one.”
“Do you really want to move back to Shukes, Mum?” asks Tobes.
Sally says, “I’ve had my turn. It must be someone else’s by now.
” She doesn’t expect to get away with this deflection and is relieved when she does, then sad when the only explanation she can come up with is that no one else wants to buy Shukes back.
They all like the Hayloft, and why shouldn’t they?
It’s a lovely house, and the garden situation is perfect for Champ, totally secure.
Yet Sally has always been convinced that he doesn’t sniff the flowers and bushes there with the same enthusiasm that he always had for Shukes’s front garden.
Even if that’s true, though, she can hardly go back to Henry Christensen and say, “Could you please ignore that I told you to ignore me, and reconsider my original hysterical request?” There’s no point, if Mark, Ree, and Tobes would veto another move.
“Your turn, Corinne,” says Tobes. Sally glances at the satnav as Corinne slows down and turns the car into a narrow lane.
There’s a scratchy, thwacky noise that accompanies them all the way down this single-track road: the sound of leaves and branches brushing both sides of the car.
The satnav says they’re four minutes away from the kennels.
“I tell you what,” says Corinne. “Can I wait to reveal my truth until we get there? I promise you, you’re going to love it so much.”
“No,” says Ree. “That’s cheating.”
“Can I bribe you?” Corinne asks.
“Like, with actual money?” Ree laughs. “Nope. I’m a woman of principle.”
“I’m bribe-able,” Tobes says. “Always.”
“We’re here, though. Too late.” Corinne pulls into a wide courtyard and turns off her car engine as floodlights come on. “But don’t worry. You’re all about to find out my truth. Here comes Jill.”
Jill, Corinne has told them in the car, is the wife of Niall, Corinne’s eldest son.
The two of them own and manage West Acres Boarding Kennels.
Corinne bought the land for them, on which to start a business of their choice, and this is what they chose.
Jill, in particular, chose it, after her beloved Boston terrier, Yoyo, was banned from two other doggy day-care facilities for, according to Jill, no good reason at all.
(“If you want an ideal environment for a human or a dog, don’t expect anyone else to create it for you,” Corinne said solemnly.
“Make it yourself, or it ain’t never gonna happen. ”)
Jill is wearing, among other things, a pajama top with “Beddybyes” printed on it in pink cursive letters.
The smell of dogs is everywhere. It’s in the air, hovering over the fields that stretch out beyond the big house and the L-shaped outbuilding that make up three sides of the courtyard. It’s flat here, like at home.
Sally doesn’t mind the animal smell, but she imagines Mark is revving up to complain to her about it as soon as their hosts leave them alone.
It will be wonderful, she thinks, if they can stay here long enough for Champ to make some friends.
In Swaffham Tilney, he sometimes goes—went, Sally corrects herself, because who knows if they will ever go back?
Champ sometimes went for walks with Tippy, Kellie Dholakhia’s clumber spaniel.
It’s unlikely that he’s started to miss Tippy yet, so now would be a great time for him to meet some new pals.
Jill gives Corinne a quick hug, then holds out her hand to Mark, who recovers well from his surprise.
Sally smiles. He has been thinking of Sally as in charge and himself as a very minor character since they left Swaffham Tilney and was expecting anyone new they met to shake her hand first. “I’m Jill Harris,” says Jill.
“Wife of Corinne’s son, Niall Sullivan.”
“Jill wants you all to notice that she kept her maiden name,” says Corinne with a grin.
“No, I’m just introducing myself—you know, like you do when you meet new people!
” Jill says brightly, her smile hardening.
“Come on in. I’ll show you to your room.
I’m afraid you’re all in together—one big family room, single bed in each corner—but I think you’ll like it.
We’ve just had it redecorated so everything’s brand-spanking new, and there’s a lovely, big en suite with bath and shower. There’s a state-of-the-art smart TV—”
“Wait, we’re not sleeping in a kennel?” Ree says, wide-eyed. “I thought we were sleeping in a kennel?”
Jill looks aghast at this suggestion. “No. The kennels are… Well, they’re just for dogs.”
“Surprise!” Corinne giggles. “That’s my truth! Guys, I can’t believe you thought I’d make you sleep in a fucking kennel!”
“But you said…” Mark begins.
“No, I did not. I never said anything of the sort. You all assumed it. All I said was: ‘We’re going to West Acres kennels; you can stay there.’ I thought you’d know I meant stay in the house.
It never occurred to me that you’d think I was planning to put you in with the dogs.
I was about to correct the misunderstanding, after Mark said, ‘I’m not sleeping in a kennel,’ and then it occurred to me that it’d be way funnier to let you believe it for a while. ”
“I’m not being separated from Champ,” says Sally.
“That’s fine,” says Corinne. “Champ can sleep with you all in the big bedroom. Right, Jill?”
Jill’s smile looks a little strained, Sally notices. “Is that okay?” she asks her. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” says Corinne. “I’ve already told Niall and Jill I’ll pay for a deep clean once you’ve gone. Jill doesn’t normally like dogs being in the house, so she’s doing us a special favor.”
“You really don’t need to,” Sally tells Jill. “If you’ve got a spare kennel, I’ll happily sleep in there with Champ.”
“Don’t be silly.” Jill backs away slightly. “It’s fine. Champ is welcome in the house.” She bends down to stroke him. “Hello, handsome boy! Are you going to be our guest for a bit? That’ll be fun!”
“Can we go and check out the room?” Tobes asks. “I feel a movie night coming on.”
“You could watch The Wizard of Oz,” Jill suggests.
“Why?” says Ree. “We’re not, like, eight.”
Jill looks put out. “I just thought… The Wizard of Oz is all about Dorothy wanting to save her dog from evil Elvira Gulch.”
Is that true? Sally wonders. She only remembers the music: the Tin Man singing “Just because I’m presumin’ I could be kinda human if I only had a heart.
” And “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” obviously.
Does The Wizard of Oz have a happy ending?
She wants to ask Jill but doesn’t, in case she gets an answer she doesn’t like.
She can picture Dorothy waking up at the end and saying, “There’s no place like home,” but she can’t remember what happens to Toto, the endangered dog. How can she have forgotten that?
Sally realizes she’s standing still, not following the others in the direction of the house. She starts to walk, but something pulls her back. Corinne.
“What?” says Sally. Champ, at the end of the lead she’s holding, lies down again, confused about whether he’s supposed to be going or staying put.
“I want to give you something, while no one’s looking.
Here.” Corinne pulls a small, dark object out of her pocket and hands it to Sally.
It’s a credit card. Or a debit, maybe. “You couldn’t reach this card’s limit if you tried, so no need to worry about that,” says Corinne.
“Pin number’s three seven nine two. Don’t tell anyone you’ve got it—Mark, I mean, mainly—and feel free to use it if and when you need to. Okay?”
“Are you serious?” The name on the card is Corinne Antonia Sullivan. “Corinne, this isn’t right. You’ve been extraordinarily generous, but I can’t just spend—”
“You can, though. Okay, look, I wouldn’t normally say this, but…
guess how much money I’ve made since we left Swaffham Tilney, from doing nothing?
Go on, guess. Or should I tell you? Two hundred and eighty-three grand.
My money just sits there making more money for me, all the time.
It’s wild! Like, seriously the most miraculous thing in the world.
Well, sometimes it goes down as dramatically as it can go up—we don’t love those times—but… you take my point?”
Sally holds up the card. “Any money I spend on this, I’m paying you back. Those are the only terms I’ll agree to.”
“Fine, if you insist.” Corinne shrugs.
“Anyway, I won’t need to. I’ve got money in my account. Ten grand. Though God knows how long that’ll last once I lose my job, which I’m bound to.” Sally tastes a sourness in her mouth as she says this.
“You won’t lose your job,” Corinne tells her. “I can sort it out with Quy Mill, I have no doubt.”
“But, Corinne—”
“Look, Sally, all that matters for now is saving Champ, right? Making sure the authorities don’t get their hands on him.
We can worry about your job later if we need to.
” Corinne wrinkles her nose. “You definitely want to carry on working there, right? You like…going there and doing whatever you do? I only ask because I’m not a fan of jobs, you know.
I’m really not. Bad things can happen to people with jobs. ”
Sally frowns. “Worse things happen to those without them, surely—those who want and can’t get them?”
Corinne raises her eyes and makes a tearing-her-hair-out gesture with both hands.
“If even a third of those people would stop wanting jobs and want something different and better for themselves instead…” She sighs.
“What would you do if you could do anything, anything at all, and you could guarantee it would work out brilliantly?”
“Apart from making sure Champ, Ree, and Tobes were safe forever, you mean?”
“Safe forever is a terrible ambition, but…okay, yeah. Apart from that.”
“My dream has always been to be a famous writer. To write books.”
“Cool!” Corinne perks up. “What kind?”
Sally shakes her head. “I think that’s why I’ve never tried to do it. Any ideas I had always seemed silly. I’d tell someone and they’d go, ‘That sounds crap; who’d want to read that?’ so I never bothered.”
Corinne tilts her head, a strange expression on her face. “You know, don’t you, that that’s what unimaginative mediocrities always say when presented with a new, unique, and brilliant idea?”
Is this some kind of attempt to inspire? Sally wonders. Does Corinne have designs on her beyond the saving of Champ?
“Why are you helping me?” she blurts out.
“We don’t even know each other, barely. And…
why can’t Mark know about the credit card?
Is there something you’re not telling me, Corinne?
I don’t want to sound paranoid, but…how do you know Champ didn’t bite Tess Gavey?
You’ve just taken my word for it. How do you know for sure that he isn’t a dangerous dog? ”
Corinne looks down at Champ, who is now asleep, and chuckles.
“Do me a favor, Sal. I’ve met syrup sponge puddings that are more threatening.
I’m helping you because you didn’t know me either when you decided to go out of your way to make sure Champ never weed on my front wall, when every single other person in the village either wanted him to or didn’t care.
Plus, you’re the only person apart from me who’s ever bought a house in Swaffham Tilney and immediately changed its name.
I approve of and want to help people like me, and you’re people like me. ” She shrugs. “So is Champ.”
Sally smiles.
“As for Mark…” says Corinne. “Look, hopefully he’ll stick with us, but he’s making noises that concern me. He’s getting disgruntled.”
“Oh, he’ll be fine. I can manage Mark.”
“Maybe. But you might find that you and Champ need to break off at a certain point,” Corinne says. “Lay low for a bit. Disappear—as in, not even tell Mark where you’re going.”
“He’s my husband, Corinne.”
“I just wanted you to have the card, in case you and I get separated,” she says. “I like to be well prepared.”
“Mark will be fine,” Sally says again. “He’s not going to let us down.”
“I hope you’re right,” says Corinne. “And also? I’ve lost count of the number of men I used to think that about.”