by Alex Brown
‘Will you look at that?’ Deedee came tearing over, marvelling at the incredible feat that was unfolding in front of them.
The three women plus all the residents watched, fixated, as Monty climbed up to the top of the stepladder with the gold star still firmly gripped between his teeth. In one swift movement, the dog popped the star, delicately, if wonkily, on top of the tree and the whole room erupted into a crescendo of cheers, whoops and ecstatic applause.
Back at Paws Pet Parlour later on, Taylor was still smiling at how amazing the visit had been. Monty had really excelled himself with his spectacular finale. The residents couldn’t get enough of him and had asked if she’d bring him, and Lexie, for another visit very soon. And the best bit of all was that she had captured his astounding feat on her phone. It had been recording the whole time.
Taylor gave Monty another little treat, which he gobbled down before rolling onto his back for another tummy tickle.
‘OK, one last time and then I must see how the fundraising’s going.’ She laughed, reaching down to where he was laying on the floor next to her chair, unable to resist the magnificent Labrador. She clicked on the Just Giving page and the smile faded. Six thousand and two hundred pounds. Brilliant in such a short space of time, but nowhere near enough to cover all the work required to get the barn up to scratch. She’d already spoken to someone at the council responsible for animal welfare and they’d told her it had to be right before she’d be allowed to move the animals there. Taylor sighed, but she wasn’t a quitter, never had been. Wondering what else she could do, she found the film clip on her phone and loaded it onto the Just Giving page. Maybe it would help if people could see Monty; that he was a rescue dog too, of sorts. Yes, show them something that would make it personal! Taylor felt no qualms at tugging on the heartstrings of would-be donors, not if it meant achieving her dream of providing a proper, safe, warm home for the pets. Plus, she could take in more − only this morning a friend had texted to say they’d seen a cat sheltering in one of the outbuildings on a farm over near Market Briar. They were worried because the poor thing looked half frozen in this wintery weather. Taylor knew she’d have to go and save the cat, even if it meant incurring the wrath of her mum, but she’d deal with that somehow. She let out another big sigh as she popped the film clip onto all her social media accounts, too – maybe her mates would take pity and chip in. Every penny counted after all.
The following week, Kitty was at home with her feet tucked up beneath her bottom so as to get properly comfy in her favourite tartan-covered armchair next to the log burner. With a Yankee candle in Christmas Cookie, a mug of Bailey’s hot chocolate and the last wedge of that day’s panettone bread pudding and rum custard on the little side table next to her, she felt very cosy indeed. Teddie was in bed fast asleep, exhausted after a busy afternoon of yelling, ‘He’s behind you’ and ‘Oh no she isn’t’ and all the rest of those traditional Christmas pantomime one-liners. The panto in the village hall had been a hoot. Laurence from the B&B had played Widow Twanky and it really had been an Aladdin to remember.
Kitty’s mobile phone vibrated. It was Mack. Kitty had started to find herself looking forward to chatting with him very much. He had called every evening since Monty had gone to stay with Taylor at Paws Pet Parlour, and it was nice to have a proper adult conversation for a change. Not that she didn’t love chatting to her customers, and Teddie was great company too, but there was only so much interest she could muster for debating the merits of watching Peppa Pig over Charlie and Lola, and, no matter how many times Kitty explained that Santa couldn’t fly by Heaven on his way here on Christmas Eve, which was only six days away now, Teddie still couldn’t grasp why, and that made them both sad.
‘So did you laugh in all the right places?’ Mack asked on hearing about the pantomime.
‘We sure did. Although Teddie would’ve loved Monty to’ve joined us. She was most put out when she saw her school friends with their dogs in the audience inside the village hall.’
‘She seems to have got very attached to Monty. How’s he doing? Has he still got his paws well and truly under the table at the pet parlour?’
‘He sure has.’ Kitty smiled, settling in to another easygoing, and now quite lovely and familiar conversation with Mack, the man she had avoided for far too long. ‘He’s doing really well. We visited again today and Taylor told me all about their visit to the old folk’s home. Monty made quite an impression, apparently. There’s a film clip of him on the Just Giving page if you want to see him in action.’
‘Ah, that’s my boy. I’ll take a look.’ Mack laughed in his usual, laid-back way. ‘So, have you thought any more about having Monty back home with you?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure, Mack. There’s a lot to consider. Teddie’s so fond of him and I know she’s really missing him. Whenever we visit, the pair seem besotted with each other. She cuddles and coos over him while he licks her face – I know the army vet said not to pet him too much but Teddie doesn’t understand that and can’t seem to stop herself from fussing him. And there’s another little dog. You know the Cocker Spaniel I told you about?’
‘Yes, Lexie, what about her?’
‘Well, Teddie loves her too, and Monty also seems really attached to Lexie as well. What if he pines for her like he did over Ed’s quilt? And with Teddie so fond of him, it would be heartbreaking to have to remove Monty again if it didn’t work out.’
‘Yeah, I see your point, but Ed would definitely have wanted Monty with you and Teddie. He told me so.’
‘Really?’ Kitty said, intrigued by this insight. Of course, Ed had talked about the dog a lot − how great he was and the fun they’d had together teaching Monty how to do his job. She remembered Ed saying that he’d also taught Monty how to open the fridge, lift a bottle of beer out of the door in his mouth and then roll it across the floor with his paw all the way back across the room to Ed in his bunk. Ed and the rest of lads had been most impressed. That was Ed all over, an optimist, invincible almost, or so he had outwardly seemed. But, then, he couldn’t have done his job if he had allowed himself to consider the stark reality of the dangers that he and the rest of the soldiers faced day in and day out. Or maybe he did consider it and had just wanted to shield Kitty and their unborn Teddie. He’d never talked openly to her about how it might be if he weren’t here, and the last time they had spoken he was upbeat, looking forward to coming home. Kitty swallowed and took a sip of her pink wine as she brought her focus back to Mack on the other end of the phone line. Ed had been gone over four years. That was then, the past; she had to concentrate on the present, and the future.
‘That’s right. We had a few chats about … you know …’ Mack stopped talking and Kitty could hear, in the silence that followed, his struggle as he searched for the right words. She took the plunge.
‘I know,’ she started softly. ‘It’s OK, Mack. You talked about him not making it – about Ed not making it back home, didn’t you? What else did he say?’
‘Hard to know where to start …’ Mack began vaguely, and then seemed to pick up a wind in his sail as it were, telling her everything that Ed had said about her: how much he loved her; what a wonderful wife she’d been in supporting him; and what a brilliant mum she was going to be. ‘He also asked me to be godfather to Teddie, which is why I never wanted to let either of you out of my life.’ Mack’s voice had become thick with emotion and he stopped talking, momentarily unable to continue. Now it was Kitty’s turn to struggle as she searched for the right words, but their silence spoke volumes. Mack recovered his voice after a moment and said tentatively, ‘I totally get it. It was hard for you to let me in. But I’d love to be a part of your life now − if you’d like me to.’
Kitty inhaled, then hesitated as an unfamiliar feeling gathered in her tummy. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. Anticipation. Excitement. Pleasure, perhaps? She felt her face flush. Kitty glanced sideways, catching her reflection in the window, the curtains still open allowing the navy, inky
night sky to frame her face. She stared, as if seeing herself properly for the first time since Ed had died. A separate entity. A woman. And not the young girl she was when she’d first met him. And suddenly it felt OK to let that part of her go.
‘I’d like that – a lot.’
‘Good. Right.’ He coughed as if pulling himself together. ‘Well in that case I’ll call you later for another chat. Text me when you’re in bed and I’ll call to say goodnight and sweet dreams and all that.’ Mack’s voice sounded lighter now, a little flirtatious even, as if something had changed between them. Cleared the air. Now it was OK for them to get to know each other from scratch − as if starting anew. Kitty felt optimistic and keen to see how their friendship might flourish.
‘Great,’ she said, her mind racing at all of the implications of Mack calling to say ‘goodnight and sweet dreams and all that’. It was different. He’d never said anything like this before during their phone chats. He wasn’t calling later to see how Monty was, or Teddie. This was about her. And him. But Mack had rung off before she could ask him how rehab was going. Oh, well, she’d look forward to asking him later how the new legs were working out.
At Paws Pet Parlour, a few doors down along the High Street, Taylor was sitting at her laptop with her mobile in one hand and her mum’s mobile in the other.
‘Oh, my God! It’s going mental,’ she screamed, desperately trying to navigate between the two phones and the laptop to keep up with it all. She had checked her Facebook post of Monty doing his turn in the old folk’s home after seeing a load of donations come flooding in to the Just Giving page, and was trying to work out what on earth was going on.
‘Turn the alerts off, love.’ Amber took her phone from Taylor’s hand and swiftly swiped the screen to deactivate the Twitter notifications. She just couldn’t cope with any more of the old-fashioned car honking noises that came out of her phone every time someone retweeted her daughter’s tweet of the film clip. Not to mention the thousands of YouTube views. It was insane.
‘No, I can’t, Mum. It’s too exciting. What are we up to now?’ she screeched to her mother, who had taken over control of the laptop and was now, after swivelling the screen round to the other side of the table, absolutely engrossed. She clapped a hand over mouth. And then in a shaky voice she squeaked, ‘Twenty-seven thousand pounds!’
‘What? You’re joking, right?’
‘Nope! See for yourself.’
Taylor was shaking. Her hands and legs. And her tummy was flipping over and over. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine this would happen. The film clip of Monty shimmying up the stepladder with the Star of Wonder in his mouth; the flash of festive red ribbon flaring out from his collar while Frank Sinatra crooned a Christmassy song in the background … Well, it was TV gold! Prime seasonal viewing as the whole world, it seemed, loved a disabled veteran war dog doing his bit for the old folk at Christmas time. The post had gone viral and donations were flooding in from far-flung places such as Japan, Indonesia, Malaysia, America, Canada, Russia, France, Italy, Spain, Dubai. Thank God she had thought to add a link to the Just Giving page underneath the film clip on YouTube. There was even a donation of one hundred pounds from Lapland with ‘Love from Santa xxx’ as the giver’s name. Taylor wanted to hug whoever that was, for their sense of humour, too, as she was pretty certain Santa didn’t give money to charitable causes, although she had closed her eyes tightly and begged him to.
‘OMG!’ Amber exclaimed, shaking her head.
‘What is it?’
‘You’ve got a message from the BBC’ – she paused – ‘and another from the Tindledale Herald asking if they can come and see you tomorrow for an interview. And have a picture of you with Monty! Front-page news apparently.’ She scanned the screen, taking it all in as she speed-read it to Taylor, who thought she might actually faint, so giddy with euphoria did she feel.
‘Um, er, oh, er … Yes! Yes, yes, yes to it all! Oh, Mum, I can’t believe it. This is really happening. I’m going to get the barn converted properly and open the animal sanctuary. A proper home for all the abandoned animals at last. And you can finally have your cottage back.’
‘Well, I’ll drink to that!’ And Amber leaped up to pour them both a celebratory glass of mulled wine. She had started brewing it earlier that afternoon and the whole place was now infused with the sweet, cinnamony scent of the traditional Christmas tipple.
Chapter Eight
‘It’s snowing!’ Teddie shrieked from her bedroom before running into Kitty’s room. ‘Mummy, quick, get out of bed and look out of the window.’ Kitty obliged, pulled open the curtains and gasped.
The whole of Tindledale, across the High Street, the village square with the war memorial and Ed’s column candle still burning brightly at the base, over the fields and as far as her eyes could see, the landscape was covered in a beautiful, ethereal, glistening carpet of pure white snow. Magical. It made her feel quite emotional.
‘Come on, let’s go outside and be snow angels!’ She took Teddie’s hand and went to find their wellies, not even caring that they both had bushy bed hair and still had their furry, festive onesies on – Teddie’s was an elf and hers a reindeer, complete with red and white furry pompoms on a length of wool hanging from the zip fastening at her neck.
But this was too exciting and she couldn’t wait to get outside. ‘Oh, hang on for just one moment, darling,’ Kitty said on hearing her mobile beep almost as soon as she switched it on. It might be Mack. She suddenly felt torn. They’d had a wonderful chat late last night that had left her glowing – he had told her all about his love life, or lack of one, since he’d come back home minus the lower half of his legs. His ‘on/off’ girlfriend had said that she’d rather be ‘off’ permanently – couldn’t cope with the ‘stares and stuff’ when out with him in his wheelchair. And dating sites these days were downright pornographic, apparently: he’d been called a wimp for refusing to send a picture of his naked nether regions to one woman to prove that everything was still in working order – ‘even if you’re a cripple’, as she’d said. They had giggled like a pair of teenagers about that, together but in their respective bedrooms, after Mack had unashamedly assured Kitty that everything was working fine, thank you very much!
She read the text message after seeing that it had been sent from Mack early this morning when she had still been asleep.
Watch BBC News at 9 a.m. I’m doing a live link about Monty’s stunt going viral. Going to talk about Ed and they have a film clip of him too, hope that’s OK. All good. I PROMISE to make you and Teddie proud. x
Kitty felt her pulse quicken as she took it all in, wondering if it was the mention of Ed or Mack’s kiss at the end of the message making her feel this way. And she was most perplexed on realising that she wasn’t entirely sure. But, before she could ponder further, she glanced at the silver carriage clock, a wedding present from Ed’s parents, to see that it was almost 9 a.m. now.
After quickly explaining to Teddie that they’d go out and play in the snow very soon, she flicked on the TV in her bedroom and found the news channel.
‘It’s Mack. Look, Mummy. It’s Mack. How did he in get inside the telly?’ Teddie yelled, crouching down closely to scrutinise the screen.
‘It’s a film, sweetheart. He’s not actually inside the telly. He’s at the rehab unit, remember, getting his new legs put on,’ Kitty explained, on seeing the wooden workout bars in the background of what looked like a gymnasium. Mack was sitting behind a desk next to a couple of other guys − army personnel by the look of their uniforms, casual combats with the sleeves rolled up. Perhaps they worked at the special unit for injured veterans.
Anyway, they were about to start talking. The presenter had nearly finished doing the build-up and introductions. Kitty turned up the volume, simultaneously pressing the record button on the remote. She was instantly over the moon that she had thought to do so, even though she was trembling, as a lovely film clip of Ed with Monty appeared on the sc
reen. Ed was running around an army dog-training obstacle course with Monty by his side. Looking happy, Ed was in his element as he grinned towards the camera, his messy blond hair accentuating his forget-me-not-blue eyes. Teddie’s eyes, were exactly the same colour.
Kitty clasped her hands up under her chin and willed herself not to cry for all that Ed was missing out on – their gorgeous girl Teddie especially. But she had to remember that he had lived life to the full. Ed had followed his dreams and had died doing what he loved. She thought of the group of Iraqi children he had led to safety: with Monty’s help, Ed had guided a whole classroom full of little boys across a strip of land perforated with undetonated mines. He’d saved them all, and that had meant the world to Ed. He had even thanked her in that last letter for giving him the chance to make a difference, even though Kitty knew that she could never really have stopped him.
‘It’s Daddy!’ Teddie pressed the palm of her little hand to her lips and then held it towards the screen as if blowing a kiss to Ed. ‘Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. It’s my daddy,’ Teddie said over and over again, her excitement mounting as she jumped up and down.
‘That’s right, my darling.’ Kitty smiled and nodded, pulling her daughter in close, and, with her arms wrapped around the little girl’s body, she lifted her up onto her lap to watch and listen. The interviewer was introducing Mack.
‘With us live we have Paralympic rowing champion Christopher Mackintosh to tell us the incredible story of how a black Labrador learned to shimmy up a Christmas tree.’ Kitty felt surprise and a glow of pride. She knew that Mack was a rower, but a Paralympian too …
‘That’s right,’ Mack started with all the ease of a seasoned professional TV reporter. He was wearing a microphone at the neck of his shirt and was smiling straight into the camera, looking relaxed and friendly, just as he always did. ‘Monty is an amazing dog. Ed spotted his intelligence right away when he was first selected for training as a twelve-week-old puppy.’ Mack paused, as a picture of Monty as a gorgeous little puppy appeared on the TV screen. ‘Ed trained Monty to identity explosives mainly, concealed weapons, too, to keep them both safe in the field, and everyone else in the unit as well. After watching the clip, I’m not at all surprised that Monty reacted by swiping the Star of the Wonder and planting it on top of the Christmas tree. You see, he saw the silent command − the T sign, which means “Take it to the top”. That’s what Monty understood as part of his bomb-disposal work underground: if Ed was in a bunker packed with explosives, he’d make a T-sign as soon as a device had been made safe.’ Mack paused again, to demonstrate with his fingers. ‘Then swiftly, but carefully so as to not disturb any explosives that hadn’t been deactivated, Monty would dart up the ladder with the detonator in his mouth for it to be disposed of by the guys on the surface.’
