Chapter Thirteen
‘Honestly, Greg’ – I beamed at the photograph of my husband – ‘Bess is wonderful.’
I’d spent an uneasy night, tossing, and turning, debating how to tell him my doggy news.
Earlier, in the shower, I’d rehearsed what I was going to say – that, this afternoon, I would be revisiting Bess for that second walk.
And Dylan, reminded my inner voice.
Yes – I silently acknowledged – but that’s because Dylan is planning on rehoming Charlie. It’s not a date. My date is with Bess. Not Dylan.
Hmm.That’s a nice lipstick. Not your usual colour. Very bright. It enhances the blue of your eyes. Are you sure you’re not trying to impress someone?
Don’t be ridiculous – I mentally scoffed. I’m simply taking a bit of pride in my appearance. For a change. Is that all right with you?
Oooh, touchy. You don’t have to justify yourself to me, dearie.
Good.
The fact that I’d taken care with my hair, threaded some rather dressy hoops through my ears, and then teamed a decent top with a casual-smart pair of jeans – as opposed to scruffy joggers – was merely a coincidence.
I’d blurted out my plans to Greg on this sunny Thursday morning while waiting for the kettle to boil. My husband had stared back at me. The image was that from a past moment. Caught on camera. Mounted in a photo frame. Now residing on the windowsill.
‘Bess has been bereaved, just like me,’ I prattled.
The kettle came to the boil, sending a jet of steam over the worktop. I poured boiling water over coffee granules.
‘As German Shepherds go, Bess isn’t huge. Maybe that’s because she’s female. Perhaps it’s the boy dogs that are bigger,’ I mused. ‘Anyway, I know you’re funny about the lawn. That you like every blade of grass standing to attention, but I promise you Bess won’t wreck it. She’s not a digger.’
Well, I didn’t think she was. Time would tell. It might be best to gloss over that for now.
‘And, um, I got chatting to a man yesterday.’ My eyes slithered away from Greg. I busied myself with the milk. Stirred my coffee. ‘His name is Dylan. I’m not sure about his surname. He didn’t tell me. Not that it’s important. I mean he’s not important,’ I gabbled. ‘Dylan is just some randomer who happened to be there while I was dithering about Bess. Anyway, moving on.’ I cleared my throat. ‘The proprietor of the shelter – Rachel – says that adoptees must have a second walk. It’s part of the matching process. And when I say matching,I’m talking about the dogs. Obviously. There’s no other match going on. I don’t even know why I mentioned that word.’ I could feel my face burning, even though I had nothing to hide. ‘Dylan wants to rehome a cute little rascal by the name of Charlie. So… er… we’re going to walk the dogs together. Like we did yesterday. Isn’t that nice,’ I said brightly.
I dared to look at Greg again. He held my gaze.
‘You can come along too, if you like,’ I invited.
No, I wasn’t going to pick up the photograph and pop it in my handbag. Of course not. But Greg’s essence… soul… whatever you wanted to call it… was more than welcome to join me. And anyway, I felt sure he was around most of the time. Either that, or I had a fanciful imagination. Although if Freya found out, she might be more succinct. Simply tell me I was going round the bend.
‘Anyway,’ I chirped. ‘I’ll let you decide what you want to do.’
I took a sip of coffee just as the landline rang.
Saved by the bell, said an amused inner voice. It sounded very much like Greg’s.
I snatched up the handset.
‘Hello?’
‘Who’s that?’ said a confused female voice.
I let out a sigh of exasperation.
‘Mum, it’s me. Maggie.’
‘Oh, hello, dear. How nice of you to call.’
‘Mum,’ I said gently. ‘You rung me.’
‘Nonsense,’ my mother declared. ‘I was turning the television on, and you began speaking out of the remote control. Technology is very strange these days.’
I shook my head and suppressed a smile.
‘I think you’ll find that you’re holding the telephone, not the remote control.’
‘Really?’ There was a pause while my mother evidently studied the handset she was holding. When she next spoke, there was a shift in her tone. ‘I suppose you’re after your father,’ she said frostily. ‘Well, he’s not here. He’s out with his floozie again.’
If my mother was to be believed, my father had several women on the go. At the last count it was three. This trio comprised of the cleaning lady, the immediate next-door neighbour, and their lady GP. When I’d pointed out that Dad was ninety-two and struggled to get his legs to work, never mind anything else, Mum had been derisive.
‘You’re clearly in cahoots with him because my husband is not ninety-two. I’m only forty-one myself. Do you really think I’d marry an old man?’ she’d snorted.
‘Is Dad there?’ I now asked.
‘I just told you,’ said Mum indignantly. ‘He’s out with her.’
‘Are you sure he’s not upstairs in the loo?’
‘I never considered that,’ said Mum thoughtfully. I sensed her getting to her feet. ‘TREVOR!’ she bellowed. I held the phone away from my ear. ‘ARE YOU AND THAT WOMAN IN THE BATHROOM?’
I raised my eyes to the heavens. Just another crazy conversation. Of feeling like a part of me had teleported to a mad house.
‘Mum?’ I prompted. No answer. ‘MUM!’ Oh God, what was she doing? At that moment there was the sound of a door opening.
‘Ah, there you are,’ I heard my mother say. ‘Thanks for telling me you’d cleared off.’ Sarcasm dripped from her voice.
‘I did tell you I was going upstairs, Deirdre,’ I heard my father reply. There came the sound of some vigorous toilet flushing. Now the washbasin’s tap was running. Evidently, handwashing was going on. ‘You simply forgot what I told you earlier,’ Dad explained.
‘There’s nothing wrong with my memory,’ Mum snapped. ‘You’re the one who needs some sense knocked into you.’
There was a pause, but when my father next spoke, he sounded alarmed.
‘Deirdre?’ he quavered. ‘Deirdre, what are you–?’
‘TAKE THIS!’ my mother roared.
From the other end of the line came the sound of a scuffle. It was punctuated with thuds and bangs. What the hell was going on?
‘Mum?’ I said, gripping the handset.
‘Stop it,’ I heard my father implore. ‘Deirdre, I said–’
My father emitted a bloodcurdling scream followed by another thud. And then the line went dead.