Chapter Two
Archer
“We need to empty the donation station by the drinks table,” Cullen says. “It’s full.”
I glance at the rectangular Perspex box that’s filled with coins and notes, and grin. “We’ll be able to pay for the first five years at PAWS at this rate!”
“I know. People are being incredibly generous.”
“They love the Ark, and Noah. We’re lucky that he’s giving his personal blessing to PAWS. It means a lot.”
Noah King has become a pillar of the Bay of Islands community, and people trust that when he says PAWS is a worthwhile cause, he means it.
He reminds me of my father a lot. Not in age, because Noah’s only in his forties and my dad was close to seventy when he died, but in how charismatic he is. He’s a natural leader, and people react to him and look up to him as a result.
I wonder whether Noah’s children will struggle to continue their father’s legacy the same way I have, or whether they will also feel as if they always fall short.
Now’s not the time to dwell on that, however. The party is in full swing. We weren’t sure whether people would hang around after it got dark, but the place is heaving, and nobody seems keen to leave.
I’ve given my speech, and I’ve been mingling and have spoken to as many people as I can, from the prominent figures like the local MP, the mayor, the owners of some of the largest businesses, and a couple of reporters, to the ordinary people who might one day need the services of a therapy center, and explained just how important I think PAWS is going to be.
On top of that, Cullen, Jude, and I, and a couple of the vets, have given demonstrations on dog training, and those here with pets like Hal with Miss Daisy and Leon with his four dogs have let people fuss over them.
Even Cullen’s wary German Shepherd, Ghost, was the subject of a very sweet scene.
Max, Isla’s son and Ghost’s new best friend, introduced him to a tiny girl who’d once been bitten and who was now scared of dogs, and Ghost was the perfect therapy dog, letting her stroke him while he licked her hand.
“So when are you going to choose another pup?” Cullen jokes.
I used to have a Labrador, but he died shortly after my father, and the pain of those two losses together was too much for me to consider getting another dog for a while.
Three years have passed since Dad died, though, and lately, with the advent of PAWS opening, I’ve been thinking about getting another.
The center is about animal-assisted therapy, after all, and it makes sense for me to have my own dog while I’m seeing patients.
“Soon,” I promise. “Let me know if you think any suitable dogs come in.”
Cullen and I are joint CEOs of the new PAWS facility, but at the moment he’s dividing his time between overseeing some of the renovations of the old farmhouse, and continuing with his job at the Ark, working with rehoming rescue dogs.
“Will do,” he says. He nods as Jude walks up to us. “You checked on the Forever Home?” It’s what we call the barn where rescue dogs are housed until they find new owners.
“Yeah,” Jude says. “They’re a bit restless because of the music, but not too bad.”
“I’ll take a turn with them.” Cullen finishes his drink and heads off toward the barn.
I sip my beer, watching Jude as he finishes off one glass of wine, then picks up another from the tray on the nearby table. “Tough day?” I ask, amused. He’s not a great drinker, and I’ve often joked that after one shot he’s under the table, so it’s strange to see him knocking the glasses back.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Kinda. I think Beth and I just broke up.”
I stare at him. “What happened?”
He scratches at a mosquito bite on his arm. “We had another argument.”
“Another? You argued earlier?”
“Before we came out.”
“You want to talk about it?”
“Nope.”
“What was it about?”
“I just said I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Fair enough. I’m just trying to ascertain how you left things.”
He meets my eyes for a moment, his expression mutinous, then looks away, across the Quad.
I follow his gaze, looking for Beth but not seeing her. “Where is she?”
He shrugs and has another mouthful of wine.
“Did she leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is she okay?”
“I’ve no idea.”
“Jude…”
He finishes off his glass in one mouthful, puts it down with a bang, and takes out his phone.
“Are you going to call her?” I ask.
“No, I’m going to text Bran and ask him to come and pick me up.” His brother lives about ten minutes away in the nearby town of Paihia.
“You’re really not going to go home and sort this out?” I demand.
He types quickly and sends the text, then starts walking away. I run to catch him up, my longer legs keeping pace, even though he’s a fast walker.
“Mate, come on,” I urge. “You’ve got to patch things up with her. It’s Valentine’s Day.”
“It’s just another day.”
“Not to girls. Come on. Don’t do this today, of all days.”
He stops suddenly, so I walk past him before stopping too and turning to face him. “It’s not my fault,” he snaps.
“I didn’t say it was.”
“I’m not going to put myself through that.” Full of fury, he pushes past me and strides down the drive to the gate.
I catch up with him again. “Through what?”
“Everything. I’m done. I can’t be what she wants.” His speech slurs slightly. He’s more drunk than I thought.
“Come on, she’s put up with you for two and half years. She must have some feelings about you.” I joke, but my attempt to defuse his mood falls flat; he doesn’t even smile. “She’s crazy about you, bro,” I insist.
We reach the open gate, and he walks through and pauses on the main road. “It’s over,” he says simply.
The Ark sits on top of a hill, overlooking the Bay of Islands.
The road left leads to Waitangi and then Paihia, and to the right the lights of Sunrise Bay twinkle in the darkness.
He lives with Beth in Sunrise Bay, but instead of heading toward where his girlfriend has undoubtedly gone, he turns left and starts walking toward Paihia.
“Jude,” I call after him.
He doesn’t stop.
I hesitate, not knowing what to do. Loyalty to my best mate makes me feel as if I should make sure he’s okay as he’s obviously drunk, but Jude is a solitary, somewhat secretive guy who has never appreciated being mollycoddled or handled.
I stand there for a few minutes, watching him walk down the hill, and then see a car’s headlights coming up, approaching him.
The car slows, then does a 180 and pulls up alongside Jude—Bran, no doubt.
Jude opens the door and gets in, and the car heads off, back to Paihia.
Well, at least he’s safe. Now I’ve only Beth to worry about.
I slide a hand into the pocket of my chinos and pull out my phone. Then I pause. Maybe I should go and find Isla and tell her what’s happened. She could go to Beth’s house and offer consolation and a willing ear. But she’d probably have to take Max, and it’s getting late.
I shouldn’t contact her. I have to be careful.
Frustrated, I fight with myself for thirty seconds. But in the end, my fear for her overrides everything else.
If I’m going to message her, I usually use Snapchat and include Jude, as it doesn’t seem right to message your best friend’s girl without him knowing.
But tonight, any guilt is overridden by the fact that Jude didn’t follow her or ask me to check that she’s okay.
He’s not putting her first, and that makes no sense to me.
After pressing the speech bubble icon and bringing up my texts, I tap Beth’s name.
Me: I’ve just seen Jude. Are you okay?
I press send, expecting her to reply that she’s gone home.
I stand there for a couple of minutes. No reply. I text again.
Me: Please just let me know you’re okay
Still nothing.
I frown. I’ve no doubt she’s upset, but she’s the most thoughtful person I know. She would hate to think I or anyone else was worried about her. It’s unlike her not to respond.
I try a third text, this time with a bit more detail in the hope she’s reading them and is choosing not to reply to me.
Me: Jude said you had an argument, and I’m worried about you. You don’t have to tell me what happened. Please, just tell me you’re okay
Half a minute later, my phone buzzes with a reply.
Beth: I’m okay
Relief sweeps over me. I don’t believe her, but at least she’s talking to me.
Me: Where are you? Did you go home?
Beth: No
I frown.
Me: Are you with Isla?
Beth: No
Me: With Kim?
Beth: No, I’m alone
Me: Where?
Beth: I’m okay, I’m a big girl now, I can manage on my own
Me: I know you can cope. It’s not about managing. I know you’re upset and I want to help
Beth: There’s nothing you can do
Even though I can’t hear her voice, I can sense her sadness.
Me: Will you tell me where you are?
Beth: He broke up with me
I close my eyes for a moment. The cool evening air brushes my face, bringing with it the salty tang of the sea.
Behind me, the music playing at the Ark drifts over me, some dance song, Michael Jackson I think, its dance beat incongruous with the uneasiness in my stomach.
‘He broke up with me.’ Not ‘we broke up’. Does that mean she still wants him?
My phone buzzes again, and I open my eyes and read her text.
Beth: It’s okay, I know you’re on his side, you can go with him, I don’t care
It’s oddly phrased, and the last words, I don’t care, make me frown. She’s hurting.
Me: There are no sides. Bran has picked him up
She doesn’t reply.
Me: Come on, where are you? Please tell me
Eventually, she comes back. At The Driftwood. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.
It’s the bar in Sunrise Bay. Immediately, I set off down the hill toward the bright lights of the village.
I walk fast and end up jogging, anxious to catch her in case she decides she doesn’t want to see me and leaves. I pass the new PAWS site on my right, where I’m spending most of my days now, but barely glance at it as I head down the hill and go past the first houses on my left.