Chapter 16 #5
“Oh, don’t apologise,” he says dryly. “You’re much less trouble asleep.”
“Really?”
He shrugs. “No, you’re just as dangerous then as at other times.” He moves back as I sit up, his eyes watchful as he assesses me. “Need any help?”
“I really don’t. You had to pick me up off the floor one time last week, and it’s never happened again.”
“You fell over.”
“I was dizzy, Reuben. I’m not that anymore.”
“Well, I reserve the right to help you.”
“When don’t you?” I say this far too affectionately.
Our gazes meet and hold, the moment stretching painfully, and it’s a relief when I hear someone shouting his name.
I turn and see a lady striding towards us. She’s wearing wellies and a long mac pulled together with what looks like a bathrobe tie. She has long red hair, tightly plaited, and is wearing a man’s bowler hat. I look at her admiringly.
“There you are,” she says as she gets close. “Thought you were never getting back.”
“Sansa,” Reuben says with a smile.
Movement draws my attention to her leg. “Oh my god,” I say.
“So cute.” I scramble out of the car and crouch down to get a closer look at the puppy at her side.
He’s thin and scruffy, with a rough grey coat, and he’s shivering slightly, but he has the biggest amber-coloured eyes.
They remind me of wolf eyes, and they’re currently looking at me rather distrustfully.
I hold my hand out, fingers down, and he gives a nervous shudder. I keep my hand there. “I don’t blame you,” I say softly. “I could very well be a completely disreputable person who would lead you into a life of debauchery.”
Reuben snorts. “He’ll be thinking he’s turned up in a Georgette Heyer novel.”
“My grandmother read those and told me all about them. I think she found my grandfather very disappointing. He wasn’t caddish, he didn’t drive a carriage, and the only demands he made were about consistent meal times.”
“You’re Reuben’s English friend, then,” the woman says.
“So it seems.” I smile up at her. “Xavier Conway.”
“Ah, yes.” She scrutinizes me with narrowed eyes. “I’m Sansa. Mrs Mac said you were dancing naked last week in the garden.” She sounds almost disappointed that I’m not doing it now.
“Well, I did have on underpants and a Russian hat.”
She grins, and the smile lights up her thin face. “Ah, that’s Ettie. She’s always embellishing her stories.”
“I hope she made me six foot five and a devastating beauty.” A rough tongue suddenly bathes my fingers.
“Well, hello,” I say to the puppy. “Thank you very much. I’m pretty sure that you just removed the last remains of my lemon drizzle cake.
” I lean closer. “I can’t blame you for that. It’s the best on the island.”
I can feel Reuben’s heat-seeking missile gaze on my face, but I smile up at Sansa. “Is he yours? What’s his name?”
She grimaces. “Ah, he’s not mine. Pete from the bakery found him outside a shop, tied to a railing, yesterday.”
“What?”
She nods. “Reckon a tourist didn’t want him and left him. The captain of the ferry said there was a bloke with a dog matching this one’s description yesterday. He was acting shifty.”
“Could he have forgotten him?” Reuben asks.
She shakes her head. “He’s long gone, leaving this one behind.”
“Oh my god,” I say, my heart hurting. “You poor baby.” I shake my head. “He must be so fucking frightened.” I blanch and offer her an apologetic look. “Sorry about my language.”
“No need,” she says serenely. “I’d wager he’s better off on his own than with some cruel cunt.”
I blink and bite my lips to hold in a massive laugh. “Yes,” I say simply and hear Reuben snort softly.
Then he turns to Sansa. “Do you want me to do the usual?”
“What’s the usual?” I ask, crouching down beside the puppy who’s come closer and is staring up at me as if evaluating me for some test I’m not yet aware of.
Reuben shrugs. “I’ve taken in dogs before while they look for homes. It’s sadly not an unknown circumstance on the island.”
“You take in dogs?” I breathe.
He rolls his eyes. “I also had a very successful career as a photojournalist, and yet I think the dog bit is what’s going to stick with you.”
“Don’t knock it. It’s helping me to overlook your appalling character defects.”
Sansa starts to laugh, and Reuben shakes his head.
At that moment, the dog moves, placing his paws on my knees and looking straight into my face. Then he leans forward and licks my nose, making my eyes cross.
“Oh my goodness,” Sansa whispers.
I throw my arms around his neck, feeling him nestle close. “Oh, he’s the sweetest little baby.”
“Little?” Reuben says incredulously. “That’s an Irish Wolfhound, Xavi. Look at the size of those fucking paws. He’s going to be huge.”
“He will be beautiful, won’t you?” I croon to the dog, who promptly knocks me onto my back and climbs into my lap. I start to laugh, and the dog does a little shimmy and tries to lick my face.
“Shit,” Reuben mutters. He puts a hand out and hauls me up, and the dog instantly nestles into my knees.
“They always know,” Sansa intones. “Looks like he’s picked his person, Reuben.”
“You’re not seriously thinking about it, are you?” he breathes, staring at me as if trying to hypnotise me into saying no.
I look down at the dog and can’t stop my smile as he looks seriously up at me as if judging all my choices. The way Reuben does sometimes. “Erm, I might be serious.”
“What happened to no fixed abode, the world is your oyster, no time for ties?”
I narrow my eyes. “Was that supposed to be me?”
Sansa laughs, and Reuben gestures wildly. “You can’t keep a dog in a hotel.”
“Then I shall buy a house,” I say grandly.
“Oh my,” Sansa says.
“Just like that?” Reuben snaps.
I nod. “I think the more important decision is whether to have a dog, not a house.”
“I like you,” Sansa says. “Keep this one, Reuben.”
“He’s not a packet of bacon.”
“If I were, you’d certainly cook me. What shall I call him?” I muse.
“You don’t understand.” Reuben sounds fairly desperate now. “They’re big, noisy, and their hair makes a mess.”
“Well, you’re all of those things and still around.”
Sansa starts to laugh, and Reuben sags. “Fuck.”
I pat his arm. “Room for another lodger, Roo?”
I immediately blanch at the pet name that just fell out. But then his whole face softens and warms, and I can’t regret it. “Only for a little bit,” I say quickly.
Reuben shrugs. “I’ve never kept one of the dogs I’ve taken in.”
“No time like the present, then.” I tug gently on the dog’s ear, and he gives a groany sound of pleasure. “Bernard,” I say.
Reuben and Sansa stare at me. “What?” she says.
I nod at the dog. “His name is Bernard.”
“Well, of course it is,” Reuben says dryly.
“Don’t you think he looks like a Bernard? My grandfather had a golfing mate called Bernard. He used to knock over the furniture, so my grandmother made him stay outside when he called for my grandfather.” I look down at my puppy. “Don’t worry. I won’t do that to you,” I assure him.
Reuben looks at me and then at the dog. “Well, Bernard, it seems that you’ve chosen Xavier as your person. You are now the one who is in charge of him and his impulse control issues. I have passed the baton to you, and if at some point you regret your life choices, don’t come whining to me.”
The dog pants up at him, looking very much like he’s laughing.