Chapter 7
‘Blimmin kids,’ Molly muttered, as she drove the car up to the park gates. There were several teenagers lingering by the park entrance, gazing at her with sullen expressions as she shooed them out of the way to open the gates.
She was about to get back in her car, when one of them shouted, ‘How come you’ve got the keys for them gates?’
‘None of your business,’ she replied haughtily. Maybe if the boy had asked the question nicely, she might have given him a proper answer.
‘Did you nick ’em?’
‘No, I did not!’ She slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut rather harder than she’d intended, started the engine and eased past them, feeling slightly intimidated.
She was aware of their eyes on her as she drove around the path and into the grounds of the cottage. The area was quite open, and it occurred to her it might be a good idea to fence her property in. It might be another layer of nuisance, but it would also be another layer of security. At the moment anyone could wander in through the park gate, stroll over to her cottage and peer in through the windows if they had a mind. Was fencing it in something she would be allowed to do, she wondered? Yet another question for the council.
She began unloading her purchases as the kids dawdled past. They were in school uniform, the boys wearing black trousers, white shirts and burgundy blazers, with their ties either at half-mast or not knotted at all, and one of the girls was wearing such a short skirt that it made Molly shiver as she thought of the draught.
Molly hefted a bag out of the boot with both hands and settled it on the ground between her feet, before pulling the lid of the hatchback down. She knew it was ridiculous, but she intended to lock the car while she took this lot inside, because she didn’t trust those kids one little bit.
Glancing around to check whether they were still there, she was cross to see one of them fling an empty crisp packet into the grass.
‘Excuse me, you need to pick that up,’ she called.
‘No, I don’t.’ The boy’s expression was belligerent as though daring her to challenge him.
Molly knew it was silly but she couldn’t help herself. ‘Pick it up this instant,’ she said. ‘Littering is an offence.’
‘Make me.’ The rest of the teenagers, there were six in total, had come to a halt, enjoying the show.
‘You know I can’t,’ Molly said, ‘but if a small animal gets its head stuck inside and suffocates, you will be the one to blame. Does that make you feel big?’
‘Ooh,’ one of the girls said. ‘Get her.’
Molly knew she was fighting a losing battle. She honestly didn’t know why she should even step into the breach. They clearly didn’t care about the environment, or their impact on it, or about other people. Selfish, that’s what they were, and no amount of having a go at them would make them change their minds. All she was doing was creating animosity and making a fool of herself.
In a fit of pique, she left her bag of shopping next to the car, marched over to the group of youngsters, bent down and snatched up the crisp packet, then held out her hand. ‘If anyone has got any more rubbish they’d like to fling about, you might as well give it to me,’ she said.
The kids glanced at each other. One of them shrugged and muttered, ‘She’s a nutter.’
Molly was beginning to think the girl’s assessment was right. No one who had any sense would challenge a group of kids like this. Especially considering she was on her own. You heard such stories these days…
The group began to move off, one of them pulling out a packet of cigarettes, and Molly was quickly forgotten. She hoped. So it was with a feeling of unease that she saw the one who’d said “Make me”, turn round and glare at her. He stared her in the eye for long seconds before looking away, leaving Molly feeling more than a little shaken.
Which was why the first thing she did after bringing all her purchases inside, was to phone the council.
‘Hello? My name is Molly Brown and I’ve got a complaint about Sweet Meadow Park,’ she began as soon as the phone was answered. ‘Who do I need to speak to, please?’
‘That’ll be the Parks and Highways Department,’ the receptionist said. ‘Would you like me to put you through?’
‘Yes, please.’ Molly stood tapping her foot and chewing at her bottom lip as she waited, and had worked herself up into a fine old tizzy by the time someone came on the line.
‘Parks and Highways, Pete speaking, how can I help?’
‘I’ve got a complaint about Sweet Meadow Park,’ she said, ‘and I want something done about it.’
‘There’s a complaint form on our website, if you’d care to fill it in,’ the man said.
‘Actually, I don’t. I want to speak to someone in person.’
‘You want an appointment?’ the bloke sounded a little put out.
‘Yes, I believe I do.’ She could put her point across much better in a face-to-face meeting rather than over the phone. ‘Is that possible?’
‘Um, yeah, hang on a second, I’ll check Jack’s diary.’
‘Jack who?’
‘Oh, sorry, it’s Jack Feathers. He’s the Parks and Highways Officer and he’s better equipped to deal with your complaint than I would be. Erm… here we go… will two-thirty tomorrow be okay for you?’
‘Two-thirty is fine, thank you.’
When Molly came off the phone, she was pleased that she hadn’t had to fight to get an appointment to meet with someone, and before she went to bed tonight she would make a list of things she needed to discuss with him. First on the agenda was the subject of litter and bins, then she might mention the stray dog (on second thoughts perhaps not, as she recalled Bill telling her what might happen to the poor thing) and whilst she was at it she also wanted to inform him of all the layabouts hanging around in the evening. Finally, she wanted to inquire whether she needed permission to fence in what was, in effect, her own land and her property. Maybe she should lead with that instead of all the complaints, she reflected, not wanting to run the risk of alienating him from the outset.
Still feeling upset, Molly peered out of the living room window to see if any of those kids were still hanging about, but she didn’t see anyone. What she did see though, was a large black dog.
It was Jet, and she hurried to find the dog food she’d bought. Thinking he might be hungry and seeing that he was a decent sized animal, she had bought several large tins. Not knowing how much a dog his size would eat, she quickly prised the lid off the first one she laid her hands on, and scooped half the contents into the bowl she’d also bought, hoping he wouldn’t have disappeared by the time she went outside.
He was still there, sniffing around one of the bushes on the edge of the path, and she clicked her tongue at him, catching his attention. He looked at her, and as his ears pricked up she thought what a handsome chap he was. Jet-black as his name suggested, he was quite muscular although rather on the lean side, with dark brown eyes and a black nose. She had seen greyhounds before and he was much chunkier, but he wasn’t as chunky as a Labrador, and she guessed Bill was probably right in his assessment that the dog might be a cross between the two.
She walked a few paces towards him and stopped, putting the bowl down on the ground, and then she stepped back.
His nose was twitching frantically, and she could see his tail wagging ever so slightly. He was clearly interested in what was in the bowl, but if he wanted it he had to come closer. She wasn’t going to back away any further.
‘Come on, boy, come on,’ she called softly, crouching down so she wasn’t bigger than him, hoping it would make her appear less intimidating. She didn’t bother holding her hand out, knowing he would be far more interested in the food than in her empty palm, and she watched him approach cautiously, one eye on her and one eye on the bowl.
Molly remained perfectly still, speaking quietly to him until he gradually edged nearer and stuck his nose in the bowl.
This meal was gone as quickly as the one earlier this morning, and he was soon licking his lips and looking for more.
Molly laughed softly. ‘I think that’s enough for now,’ she said. ‘If you’re a good boy, you can have some more later. We don’t want you being sick, do we?’
She wished she had thought to fill a bowl of water for him, but it hadn’t occurred to her. The poor thing must be thirsty, although he could probably drink from the pond and she suspected that might be where he quenched his thirst. It was lucky he hadn’t caught something nasty, and she shuddered.
The next time she was out shopping, she would buy another bowl for water. If she left it outside by the front door and filled it every day, at least he’d know where he could get a drink.
Human and dog stared at one another for a while, Molly trying to convey that she was harmless and hoping the dog would see her as a friend, but eventually she knew she had to make a move. The electrician would be here in an hour, and she wanted to make a start in marking out where in the walls the electricity cables and the water pipes lay, before he arrived.
She was almost inside the cottage before she realised she had company, and she whirled around in a panic, thinking it might be one of the teenagers. However, when she looked down, she was astonished to see Jet. The dog was only a couple of feet away, looking at her with pleading eyes, his tail wagging.
‘Do you want to come in?’ she asked, and his tail continued to wag so she pushed the door open and stepped to the side.
Jet didn’t move, so she went into the hall, wondering what the dog would do.
He moved forward a couple of paces, keeping the same distance away from her and when she stepped further into the hall, he followed. When she went into the living room, he came with her. He didn’t appear to be unduly bothered, and she wondered whether he had lived indoors before.
Molly had brought the empty food bowl in with her so, moving carefully and slowly so as not to alarm him, she went into the kitchen, rinsed it out and filled it with water before putting it on the floor
The dog walked straight over to it and started lapping greedily, flicking water all over the tiles with his tongue. Molly laughed, and the dog stopped and lifted his muzzle, droplets dripping from it. He seemed to be grinning at her.
Molly fully expected him to leave once he’d had a drink, because the front door was still wide open, but he didn’t. Instead, as soon as he’d had his fill, he gave himself a shake, then lay down in front of the range with a sigh.
‘Make yourself at home, why don’t you?’ she said to him.
Not liking to leave the front door open, Molly walked into the hall and was about to close it, when she called to the dog.
‘Jet, come here, boy.’ She heard a grunt and then the click of claws on lino as the dog trotted into the hall and stood at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Do you want to go back out, because I’m going to close the door now,’ she said to him.
The dog stared expressionlessly at her.
‘Are you sure? Last chance?’
The dog continued to stare.
‘OK, but I don’t expect you to have an accident, do you hear me? If you want to go out, you have to tell me.’ She had no idea how the dog was supposed to do that; maybe bark, or whine, or something. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘You can stay if you want, but I warn you I’m going to be busy.’ Then she caught herself and wondered what she was doing speaking to a dog as though it was a human being.
Feeling emboldened by the calm expression on the animal’s face, Molly moved nearer.
Jet stood his ground. His tail was down but it was wagging timidly, and so far he’d not shown any signs of aggression so Molly wasn’t unduly worried. She didn’t have a great deal of experience with dogs, but she was hopeful this one was a gentle soul.
Once again, she crouched down and held out her hand.
This time the dog sniffed it, then he gave her fingers a lick, which made her giggle.
His eyes widened and his ears pricked at the sudden noise, but he didn’t seem too perturbed.
Slowly Molly stretched her hand out further until she could touch the fur on the top of his head and she gently stroked him. His coat was velvet smooth, almost silky, and he pressed his head into the palm of her hand and let out a little whine.
‘Are you enjoying that?’ she asked.
The dog whined again, and his eyes slowly closed.
Molly would like to stay there all day, stroking the animal, but time was ticking on and she had so much to do. She hadn’t begun to check the walls for the wires behind them yet, and the electrician was now due in less than an hour, so, after giving Jet a final pat, Molly got to her feet.
She expected the dog to remain where he was, and was surprised when she found him padding behind her, and he continued to keep her company as she moved from room to room, aiming the thingamajig at the walls and drawing a line in permanent marker whenever she found a wire or a pipe. Thankfully, the job was quite easy and she didn’t find anything untoward: everything was where she expected it to be, coming straight down the wall, or up it, to end in a socket or a switch. The only anomaly was the kitchen, where there seemed to be a wire going straight across. Strange. Anyway, she marked it and reminded herself to have a word with the electrician when he arrived.
She was just finishing up in the spare bedroom, when Jet stiffened and began to growl.
‘What is it, boy?’ she asked, wishing she could peer through the window, but the upstairs ones were still boarded up. Then she heard the sound of an engine and for a moment she had the awful thought somebody had carjacked her little Citroen, before realising it was probably the electrician. When she’d returned after her shopping trip this morning, she’d deliberately left the big main gates open so he could bring his van in. Or that was the reason she’d told herself for not getting back out of her car and closing the gates at the time, refusing to admit the youngsters had made her feel uncomfortable.
Jet continued to rumble deep in his chest as the engine noise ceased and a vehicle door slammed shut.
Molly bounded down the stairs, the dog hot on her heels, and dashed towards the front door, opening it just as the person standing on the other side raised a hand to knock.
She blinked, wondering who this woman was and what she wanted, but then she glanced at the van and noticed the writing on it. It definitely belonged to the electrician – the company’s name was emblazoned on the side. The woman was also wearing overalls and was carrying a toolbox, and the penny finally dropped: she was the electrician and Molly cursed herself for being so stereotypical.
‘I was expecting a man,’ she blurted, adding hurriedly, ‘The person I spoke to on the phone was a man.’
The woman nodded. ‘My dad. He’s out on another job. My sister is a sparky, too. We are a proper family business with proper family values. Can I come in?’
‘Sorry.’ Molly stepped to the side, pushing the dog back with her legs.
‘Cute,’ the woman said. ‘What’s his name?’
‘Jet.’ Molly was relieved to see Jet had stopped growling and was now wagging his tail. It was an uncertain wag, but at least it was one. ‘Good boy,’ she said, giving him a pat. ‘He’s a stray.’ She spoke to the dog again. ‘And he could do with a bath. He’s stinky.’ Jet shot her a nervous look and Molly laughed. ‘I think he knows what the word bath means. Yes, you are having one,’ she warned him. ‘No arguments. If I can get the electricity turned back on, you’re going to have a bath.’
‘We can’t have a stinky dog, can we? So, let’s see what we can do,’ the electrician said, and Molly crossed her fingers as Jet allowed the woman to stroke him.
She was relieved that after Jet’s initial warning growl, he had accepted the electrician’s presence. On the other hand though, she was impressed he’d warned her of a potential intruder. He clearly felt at home here, and she was surprised at how safe he made her feel.
‘I’ll show you where the fuse box is,’ she said, but as she opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs, Molly had a thought which stopped her in her tracks.
Jet would make an excellent early warning system and guard dog. No one would mess with her if he was around. Now all she had to do was to persuade him to stay.