Chapter 75
SEVENTY-FIVE
Nancy’s heart plummeted. Jesus, why did it have to be Imogen’s pet? In her garden.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit! What should she do?
The poor dog looked weak. It could barely lift its head and would gaze at her imploringly, she thought, before closing its eyes every now and then.
Nancy hurriedly called the vet number on the tag – they asked if she could bring the animal in immediately as it sounded as if it needed urgent treatment.
She readily agreed and, hanging up, went to scoop Arthur, as she now knew he was called, into her arms.
He was a dead weight. The more she tried to lift him, the more impossible it was.
She looked helplessly at the expanse of garden she needed to cross to get to the front of her house and her car.
There was no way she could do it. She looked at Arthur, her mind spinning.
Maybe it was her imagination, but he seemed more lethargic still. She had to get help and quickly.
Getting her phone back out, she dialled the other number on the tag.