Chapter 28
Mum didn’t get the chance to ask Ree anything the next morning, because Ree had a more pressing agenda of her own. When Mum woke up, Ree was in her room, sitting cross-legged at the foot of her bed. “Awake at last, Mother. About time!”
“What’s up?” said Mum. “What time is it?”
“Quarter past eleven. You’ve missed breakfast, I’m afraid. Though I’m sure Corinne can, like, buy all the world’s sausages and eggs and have them delivered to your mouth if you’re hungry. But you haven’t got time for food, so forget that. It’s Sarah Sergeant Day!”
“What?” Mum sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Where’s Dad?”
“Out walking Champ, with Tobes. Corinne’s on her way over from reception now, with Sarah Sergeant, because—did I mention this?—it’s Sarah Sergeant Day! Yay! So rise and shine, brush your teeth—”
“Rhiannon, you’re scaring me. Who’s Sarah Sergeant? What the hell’s going on?”
“Corinne’ll explain everything when she and Sarah get here.
Who is she? A lovely, altruistic hero of our times.
That’s who Sarah is, and you can’t wait to meet her.
Oh, and Mum? Auntie Vicky might ring or text you.
Tobes gave her all of our numbers. Soz, but it’s actually fine? She won’t give them to anyone else.”
By the time Mum was able to mold some shocked splinters of vocabulary into a useful question, Ree was gone. The question, which went unasked, was: How did Vicky get in touch with you to ask for our numbers, given that she didn’t have our numbers?
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on the door of Mum and Dad’s hotel room. Mum was washed, dressed, and feeling more untethered than she could remember ever feeling in her life before.
Sarah Sergeant turned out to be an elderly woman with neat gray hair in a bob, held in place on one side by a wide flower-patterned clip.
She was wearing pale-blue framed glasses, a navy pinafore dress over a white blouse with puffy sleeves, and red buckle-shoes like a child’s, with gray tights, even though it was June.
“I’m on your side,” she told Mum, once Corinne had introduced her. “Your campaign to save Champ—it’s wonderful. Inspiring.”
“What campaign?” Mum looked at Corinne, then at Ree. “Is something going on that I don’t know about?”
“Something has been, yes.” Ree looked appropriately solemn.
“A viral internet movement, which I think I might have, in a way, started? We’re a bit…
famous now? Soz, Mum. I promise I’ll tell you all about it once you’ve heard what Sarah’s got to say.
It’s all good, though, and nothing to worry about. ”
Viral. Famous. Mum couldn’t really think about what any of that meant while this strange flowery, smiley woman was sitting in front of her. On her and Dad’s bed, too. Dad wouldn’t like that one bit if he came in and saw it, thought Mum.
“Sarah’s a fellow Welshie mum,” said Corinne.
“I’ll show you my Bonnie.” With shaking hands, Sarah reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a small photo album. She passed it to Mum. “She’s fourteen and really suffering now, poor little darling. She’s blind and deaf and—”
“But she’s had an incredible life,” said Corinne.
“Yes, she has.” Sarah nodded.
Mum looked at the pictures in the album. Bonnie was smaller than Champ and had a patch of white stretching from the middle of her chest up to her neck.
“Sarah took Bonnie to the vet last week, because… Well, I’ll let you tell Sally, Sarah.” Corinne stood back.
“To keep my Bonnie alive beyond this point wouldn’t be fair to her,” Sarah explained tearfully. “Next time she goes to the vet, which might be as soon as tomorrow or the next day, she won’t be coming back.”
“I’m so sorry,” Mum said, feeling tears start in her own eyes. How awful, she thought. Poor woman. Poor, sweet Bonnie.
“I’d like to go to Cambridgeshire Police, if you’ll let me, and tell them a lie,” Sarah Sergeant said. “I’d like to say that it was Bonnie who bit Tess Gavey, not Champ. If I do that, they’ll have to give up their attempt to punish Champ. And they’ll never be able to prove it’s not true.”
“No,” said Mum. “Absolutely not. I mean…thank you, I know you’re only trying to help but—”
“Don’t say no straight away,” advised Corinne.
Ree had covered her face with her hands to smother a groan.
The last thing Mum wanted was to be a dasher of everyone’s hopes, but she couldn’t possibly agree to what was being suggested.
“No,” she said again. “It’s not right. Why should poor Bonnie’s reputation be trashed?
I bet she’s never bitten anyone either, just like Champ. ”
“You’re right,” said Sarah. “She hasn’t. But I’d like to do this for you and your family, Sally. And I’m confident Bonnie would too, if she understood the situation. I’ve always thought… I’m too old now probably, but if I could donate an organ from my body after my death, I’d love to—”
“It’s not the same,” Mum told her. “It’s not right.” Everything inside her felt as if it was shutting down. She felt sick. She could see how much everyone needed her to agree, but she would hate herself forever if she did. Poor Bonnie…
No, this couldn’t be the way. She’d be as bad as the Gaveys if she agreed to it. Miscarriages of justice weren’t solved by falsely pinning the blame on those who were equally innocent.
“Thank you. You’re very kind,” she told Sarah Sergeant.
“But I can’t. Please don’t…don’t do anything like that.
I’m sorry you’ve had to come all this way to…
” Mum broke off as tears started to pour down her face.
When she finally recovered—nearly half an hour after Sarah had left, taking her Bonnie photo album with her—Mum looked up at Corinne, who’d been waiting, and said, “So. What’s our brilliant plan C, then? ”