Act 2 – Chapter 7 #2
‘Well, I guess it would be nice, hmmm hmmm— hmmm your body, hmmm hmmm hmmm everybody hmmm hmmm hmmm like you...’
The sun was still high in the sky, warming his back, and tanning the back of his arms below the short edges of his T-shirt, as he danced and scraped away the loose, flaky paint, not a care in the world.
Marcus felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around still singing badly through a mouthful of nonsense lyrics, utterly committed to a tune he had no legal right to reproduce.
He stared into dark brown pools, immediately drowning in them.
Marcus snatched the ear buds from his ears. ‘Rowan, what... What are you doing here?’
Rowan’s eyes dropped to look at Marcus’s chest. ‘Nice T.’ Marcus followed Rowan’s eyes down.
He’d put on his vintage Relax T-shirt by mistake.
He might as well have just lit up a sign above his head.
Rowan wanted a sink hole to suddenly appear and swallow him up.
Well if Rowan hadn’t picked up on the subtle hints he’d given him by now, now he knew.
‘I’m out for Atlas’s evening walk. I’m trying to get his claws to naturally file down on the pavement, until I can get them done properly at your place.’
‘That’s great.’ Marcus looked down at Atlas, who appeared to be sniffing the air.
Rowan gestured past Marcus.
‘Is this place yours?’ Rowan asked, looking up at the little cottage with its tired windows, peeling door and wisteria spilling over the frame like it was trying to make the place beautiful by sheer force of will.
Marcus glanced down at the scraper in his hand. ‘Apparently. Though at the moment it looks more like the house won custody of me.’
‘It’s lovely.’
Marcus shrugged. ‘Well it will be. It needs a lot of TLC. I’ve been putting off doing the decorating. I’m always busy.’
‘You’d be moaning if you weren’t.’
‘I would, you’re right. But work always seems to come first.’
‘You’re allowed to build a life outside the business, you know.’
‘Whilst juggling balls?’ Marcus hadn’t meant the statement to sound the way it did.
Rowan’s mouth almost smiled. ‘You’re making a start, anyway.’
‘Trying to.’
‘That counts.’
Atlas lowered his nose to the gate and sniffed. Marcus didn’t move. He barely breathed.
Rowan watched him watching Atlas.
‘You’re learning,’ Rowan said quietly.
Marcus looked up. ‘About paint or Atlas?’
Rowan’s gaze held his, his ‘Both, maybe.’
Marcus smiled, he liked Rowan’s dry sense of humour.
‘Is Georgina still ill?’
Marcus nodded, slowly deflating, as he was reminded of Ruff to Regal’s current busyness, the helpless feeling he’d had all week now creeping up his back again, after he’d finally shook it off with the DIY he was doing.
‘I have a suggestion.’ Marcus’s curiosity was instantly piqued, his eyebrow quirked up. ‘Do you have a storeroom in the premises?’
‘Yes, Georgina said she’ll see how she feels for Wednesday.’
‘Okay, what time is your first appointment on Monday?’
‘Erm, nine... Why?’
‘I’ve been taking Atlas past Ruff to Regal every day on every walk since we first met, going past the gate, right up to the door.
And I think I’ve got him to the stage where he feels comfortable to be there—outside at least.’ Marcus’s brow lifted.
‘Monday, can you meet me there forty-five minutes before your first appointment?’ Marcus nodded.
‘If I can get Atlas to enter freely, we’ll see how he is with the environment while I help you.
If it’s a bit too much, I’d like to try and get him to settle in the storeroom for a nap—at least for half an hour—whilst the noises and smells continue in the parlour.
That way, he’ll still be getting used to them, but in a place he’ll feel protected. ’
Marcus’s mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide. He didn’t know if he was more surprised by the fact that Rowan thought Atlas was ready for such a bold move, or shocked by Rowan’s offer of help.
‘That... that sounds quite ambitious.’
‘Atlas coming into the parlour or me helping?’
‘Both,’ admitted Marcus. ‘The only thing is, I share the storeroom with Christine—we make tea in there—and her shop is on the other side of the tearoom, so Atlas would hear and smell things from that shop too. Wouldn’t it be too much for him?’
Rowan’s brow drew together, his eyes falling to look at Atlas. He slowly nodded and Marcus felt his stomach drop,
‘Yes it would.’ He looked back up at Marcus, and Marcus tried to hide his disappointment. Rowan studied him. ‘I’ll see how he is that morning before I decide to bring him. If I decide to leave Atlas at home for a couple of hours, I’ll still come and help.’
Marcus shook his head, ‘No, I can’t ask you to do that. As much as I’d jump at the offer for the extra help at the moment, it’s not fair on Atlas.’
‘He’ll be fine. Leaving him to self-soothe for a few hours is part of his recovery.’
Marcus immediately brightened. ‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘I am.’ He turned around and walked through the gate, calling back over his shoulder. I’ll still be there at eight fifteen, so you can show me what’s what.’
Marcus couldn’t stop the boyish grin from tugging up the corners of his mouth.