Chapter three #2
Rowan fed him another half a sausage, in a bid to distract him, but Atlas refused the offering, and Rowan made a low gruff noise of frustration, putting the sausage back into the paper bag.
‘Have you always had him?’
Rowan licked his lips, before answering. ‘Not from a puppy, but from a young dog, yes... He’s actually a former police dog.’
Marcus gasped. ‘Wow. That sort of explains a lot, and I can take that on board now to change my behaviour to meet his needs, every time I meet him.’
Rowan nodded, and Marcus could see cogs turning behind his eyes. Silence lengthened out again as they finished their sandwiches and Marcus felt as though he needed to break it. As well as building a rapport with Atlas, he hoped to build one too with Rowan.
‘An annual dog competition is being held very soon in the bay, and this year, I’m organising and hosting it. I’m going to hold it on the beach. With your expertise in animal behaviour, would you consider advising me on the layout?’
Rowan’s brow pulled together. ‘That environment would be difficult for nervous dogs.’
Marcus chewed his bottom lip. Had he made a big mistake? ‘I hadn’t thought of that, but I’ve already started to advertise the new location.’
Rowan made the same low growl in the back of his throat as he shook his head. ‘It’s not a good idea, but if you’re already committed, then I guess I’d better help.’
Marcus brightened. ‘I really appreciate it, Rowan.’
‘I’m doing it for the dogs.’ Rowan looked towards the beach. ‘Can you show me exactly where you plan to hold the competition?’
Marcus grimaced. ‘Not right now I can’t. I’m already late for work, there’s only me in today and I’m fully booked. How about tomorrow?’
Rowan nodded. ‘Okay. Same time tomorrow? Here?’
Marcus chewed his bottom lip. ‘I know it’s already early, but any chance of making it thirty minutes earlier?’
Rowan nodded. ‘Sure.’
Just then, a small dog appeared, attached to an extended lead. Atlas, who had sat down halfway through Marcus and Rowan’s breakfast together, suddenly shot to his feet, his eyes focused on the Yorkshire Terrier. The Terrier began to yap at Atlas, but Atlas just stared at it.
Marcus followed the lead until he found the Terrier’s owner.
Mrs Calloway did a double-take when she saw Marcus next to Rowan.
Marcus pursed his lips, before fixing his most charming smile.
He knew about Mrs Calloway’s gossiping, but as yet, he’d never had the misfortune to be on the other end of it.
No one knew about his private life, and that’s exactly how he’d like to keep it—private.
‘Good morning, Mrs Calloway. You’re out early on a walk. Is it your pet, you’re walking?’ Marcus didn’t even know Mrs Calloway had a dog. It appeared she knew everything about other people’s business, but not everyone knew hers.
‘More like, Beau here is taking me for one.’ She blatantly stared at Rowan, but addressed her question towards Marcus. ‘Found yourself a helper, have you, for the dog competition?’ Marcus wasn’t surprised she already knew he was this year’s organiser. ‘And a handsome one at that, too!’ she added.
Unusually, Mrs Calloway didn’t wait for an answer from him, instead, she went on her way. Marcus had to fight for his cheeks to remain cool. He didn’t want Rowan knowing he agreed with Mrs Calloway’s last remark.
Keeping his features stoic, Rowan dipped his head at Marcus. ‘Thanks for breakfast.’
He walked away, and Marcus was left open-mouthed, staring after him.
HOW HE GOT THROUGH the day, Marcus had no idea. But he held it together with a bright smile and his usual jokey banter.
Christine came into the parlour halfway through the afternoon, her cheerful demeanour a balm, soothing his overwrought nerves. Being on his own the entire day, his mind had been left to run riot, and self-doubt had been gnawing away at him.
‘Oh my goodness, Marcus. It doesn’t normally smell of wet dog in here, but today is the first time I’ve smelt it.’
Marcus looked over his shoulder at an overflowing basket of wet towels. Normally, Georgina would have washed, dried, folded and stacked the morning towels neatly back on the shelves by now. Marcus didn’t realise how much he relied on her for duties like that.
‘I’ve not had time today, Christine... I’ve not even had time to make a drink.’
‘Oh dear.’ Christine looked from left to right. ‘Where’s Georgina?’
‘She’s not feeling well today.’
‘Oh no. I’ll let Tom know. He’s got a day off today, so he can call in on her. I’ll tell you what, I’ll put those towels in the washing machine for you, and then I’ll put the kettle on.’
‘Next time you’re in a predicament like this, please let me know, so I can help you in between my own clients.’
Marcus nodded with a grateful smile. His first year in Seagull Bay was still not yet complete, and he was still getting used to how much the community rallied around, helping each other out.
He decided there and then, he’d post on the local WhatsApp group that evening, about the meeting he intended to hold about gathering ideas for the dog competition, and what better place to meet than the first venue the dog competition had been held at—The Cheese Wedge and Pickles.