Once in a Lifetime

by Chrissie Manby

  Sometimes Flossie seemed so much younger than her years. She could talk the talk. She seemed worldly wise when it came to politics and the machinations of the media. But she still had no idea how to do a load of washing without shrinking something important. Or how to feed herself properly.

  And yet, were you ever more yourself than you were at that age, Dani wondered. When you were full of optimism and idealistic. Before the responsibilities of adult life started to grind you down. When you still thought you could do whatever you liked with no compromises?

  The job of being a parent seemed to be to constantly knock the edges off your child, to help them to fit in by becoming less themselves year on year.

  At sixteen, Dani would have wanted to go travelling. She would have loved to go to a festival. The difference was, she would never have dared to ask. It was progress, wasn’t it, that Flossie felt she could even broach the subject? And that she’d not gone into a complete meltdown when Dani told her that backpacking through Europe was out of the question? Dani wouldn’t have guessed that Flossie would be so sanguine about that.

  Half an hour later, Flossie came back downstairs with her overnight bag, ready to go to Xanthe’s.

  ‘Is Xanthe’s mum picking you up?’ Dani asked.

  Dani didn’t have a car. Not since the last one had failed its MOT and had to be scrapped.

  ‘No.’ As usual, Flossie said she would walk. It wasn’t far.

  ‘Say hi to Xanthe’s mum for me, won’t you?’

  ‘I always do,’ said Flossie. ‘I’m sure she’ll send her love back.’

  At least Dani could relax while she knew Flossie was round at Xanthe’s house. Xanthe’s mum, Angeliki, was an old friend. They’d met when their daughters first started primary school. When the girls were small, Ange and Dani were always bumping into each other at the school gates or at each other’s houses when dropping their daughters off for play-dates and sleepovers.

  Dani decided she should give Ange a call sometime soon. Catch up properly, rather than through messages sent via their children. See if she fancied a girls’ night out at some point. Yes, she really ought to get in touch with Ange again, if only to thank her for letting Flossie stay over so often. She was about to send a text when Jezza distracted her.

  He was squatting on the mat by the back door.

  ‘Oh no you don’t!’ Dani scooped him up with the intention of carrying him outside before he had an accident. But the backdoor was still locked and it took Dani a while to locate the key, and Jezza was really desperate and before she could get him out into the garden, he’d made a mess down the front of her jumper.

  ‘No one must feed the dog titbits!’ she shouted to no one in particular. ‘He’s got an upset stomach.’

  By the time she’d changed into something clean again, Dani had forgotten all about calling her friend.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next day somebody had to take Jezza to his first puppy training session and, predictably, that somebody was going to have to be Dani. Flossie was revising at Xanthe’s and Jane was at her Third Age computing class with Sarah.

  The vet surgery car park was full of puppies and their owners when Dani and Jezza arrived on foot. As they trooped out to the field behind the surgery building, Dani was strangely reminded of the first NCT get-together she attended after Flossie was born. The assembled dog owners looked just as frazzled as the new mums had been all those years ago. Dazed. Not getting much sleep. And not actually at all sure whether the furry bundles of joy they’d allowed into their lives were the best thing that had ever happened to them or the worst. Certainly, Jezza had been keeping the Parker household awake. Until, that is, Dani had secretly allowed Jezza to start sleeping at the bottom of her bed. And then on her bed. And then under the duvet. She told herself she would sort it out later, when Jezza had settled into family life. For now, everyone just needed some sleep. It really was like having a newborn all over again.

  Nurse Van Niekerk was already on the field. She stood in the middle of a circle of foldable chairs and yoga mats. On each chair was a packet of dog treats. The hapless owner of a Labrador puppy didn’t notice the treats until his dog had eaten most of them. Paper wrapper and all.

  ‘You with the Labrador! Keep an eye on your dog at all times!’ Nurse Van Niekerk barked.

  Dani scooped the packet of treats that had been left on her chair out of the way before Jezza had time to spot them.

  ‘Humans on the chairs. Dogs on the mats,’ Nurse Van Niekerk continued with her instructions. ‘Hurry up, please. We don’t have all day.’

  Dani sat on her chair and tried to persuade Jezza to likewise sit still for a moment. But he was too excited. He actually pulled Dani off her seat in his effort to get at the nearest dog. A chihuahua.

  Nurse Van Niekerk tutted as she made a circle of her new pupils.

  ‘I can see I’m going to have my work cut out with you,’ she said to Jezza. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, and owners …’

  A polite titter from the crowd.

  ‘Welcome to a new term of Best Behaviour Boot Camp. My name is Nurse Van Niekerk. I’m the senior nurse here at the practice and my speciality is puppy training. Now, a lot of people think puppy training is a waste of time but I guarantee that if you follow my instructions to the letter. To. The. Letter,’ she said again, looking at each of the owners in turn. ‘Then in six weeks’ time, you will have a young dog you can be proud of. One that you can take into any situation, knowing that he or she will remain calm, safe and under control. Isn’t that what we all want?’

  There was a murmur of agreement.

  ‘Good. Now I hear all sorts of excuses for badly behaved dogs. Believe me, they are all excuses. Before you even start, let me tell you I simply don’t believe that there are dogs that are too stupid to learn. Neither are there dogs too intelligent or too wilful to be taught. Personality doesn’t come into it. Every single dog has the potential to become a well-trained dog because, more than anything, they want to please us, their pack leaders.’

  ‘Am I your pack leader?’ Dani asked Jezza.

  He wagged his tail at her.

  ‘Attention over here!’ Nurse Van Niekerk shouted, clicking her fingers so that both Dani and Jezza looked up. ‘As I was saying, there are no bad dogs. There are only lazy owners. So I hope you people will prove to me that you’re not lazy owners. If you skip a class for any reason – and remember there are no excuses, I have even had people do this class on crutches – you will be required to re-sit the session you miss before I can issue you with a certificate. At the end of the course, there will be prizes for the dogs and owners who have made the most progress.

  ‘Right, let’s introduce ourselves. We’ll start with you.’

  Nurse Van Niekerk pointed at Dani.

  ‘My name is Dani …’

  ‘I don’t need your name,’ Nurse Van Niekerk assured her. ‘I’ve got enough to remember. Remind me what your charming young companion is called.’

  ‘His name is … His name is Jeremy Corbyn,’ Dani muttered. ‘But we call him Jezza.’

  ‘Right. Mrs Jezza,’ Nurse Van Niekerk went on to the next dog in line. A lurcher–collie crossbreed, all legs and long majestic nose.

  ‘Vultar,’ said his owner.

  ‘Mr Vultar.’

  Mr Vultar opened his mouth to protest and was duly ignored.

  ‘Terry,’ said the owner of a small but feisty chihuahua.

  Roxanne was a bichon frise who looked like nothing so much as a snowball with teeth. Bluebell was the greedy Labrador. Messrs Roxanne and Bluebell did not seem terribly pleased with their new names but they were about to be given reason to feel a little better.

  ‘OK. We’re missing someone.’ Nurse Van Niekerk consulted her clipboard. ‘We’ve got Jezza, Vultar, Roxanne, Terry and Bluebell. There should be one more. Where’s Mr Princess?’

  ‘Mr Princess?’ Mr Bluebell wondered out loud.

  Just as ‘Mr Princess’ arrived.

&nbs
p; It was Nat. He had with him Lola’s new dog. Of course. Dani immediately wished she’d worn something different that morning. Something less like a dog-walking outfit.

  ‘Hello, stranger!’ Seeing Dani, Nat made a beeline for the empty space next to her. ‘Good to see you.’

  ‘You too,’ she said, feeling oddly shy.

  ‘Ah, Mr Princess,’ said Nurse Van Niekerk, interrupting the moment.

  Nat looked completely confused.

  ‘You’re talking to me? I’m Mr Hayward,’ he said.

  ‘You’re Mr Princess to me,’ said the nurse. ‘And you’re almost fifteen minutes late. You’ve missed my introduction to Best Behaviour Boot Camp and you’ve missed the opportunity to get to know your fellow students.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Nat. ‘I didn’t know you had a dog,’ he said to Dani.

  ‘Mr Princess!’ Nurse Van Niekerk said in her very best sergeant major’s voice. ‘Had you been here on time with everybody else, you would know that obedience is our watchword for dogs and for owners. While boot camp is in session, nobody speaks unless they are spoken to. By me.’

  ‘That told you, Mr Princess.’

  Nurse Van Niekerk fixed Dani with a glare. Clearly, she had the hearing of a dog as well as a formidable bark.

  ‘OK. If everybody is ready, we’ll begin. Let’s start by getting rid of some of that excess puppy energy so everyone can concentrate more effectively. Everybody follow me!’

  She set off at a jog.

  ‘What?’ said Nat.

  ‘I guess we’re running,’ said Dani.

  After a circuit of the playing field – Dani hadn’t run so far since her last year at school and neither, it seemed, had the rest of the humans – the first class commenced in earnest. It was basically a lesson in bribery, so far as Dani could tell. Every time the puppies got something right, they were rewarded.

  Jezza already had a couple of tricks up his sleeve. Jane and Sarah had spent a few jolly hours in the garden that week, attempting to teach Jezza to sit. He knew what the word meant and he would do it. For a fee.

  It was fun, thought Dani. Unexpectedly. And she was very glad that Jezza seemed to be slightly ahead of his peers. Meanwhile, Princess wasn’t biddable at all. She spent most of the class rolling onto her back every time Nat got near her.

  ‘Not very Princess-like behaviour,’ Nat observed, as his puppy flashed her best bits at everyone.

  ‘So how come you ended up here this morning?’ Dani asked, while Nurse Van Niekerk was concentrating on Bluebell the Lab.

  ‘Lola doesn’t do mornings,’ Nat said.

  ‘Neither do I,’ Dani said as Nurse Van Niekerk announced they were off for a run again. ‘Neither do I.’

  Eventually the treats ran out and that morning’s class came to an end.

  ‘Excellent work, puppies! And owners,’ said Nurse Van Niekerk. ‘Now all you have to do is keep up that training during the week. Do not backtrack. Do not be soft. Remember everything I’ve told you and practice, practice, practice.’

  ‘Yes, Nurse Van Niekerk,’ said Mr Terry, the chihuahua owner.

  ‘That’s “yes, ma’am,” to you.’

  ‘Is she joking?’ Nat asked.

  ‘I think she’s joking,’ said Dani. Though she wasn’t at all sure.

  Chapter Fourteen

  With Nurse Van Niekerk’s words ringing in their ears, the puppies and their owners dispersed in the direction of home. Dani and Nat fell into step as they walked from the playing field towards the car park, where the overweight dogs that’d been signed up for Waggy Weight Loss were waiting for their turn on the field.

  After all the running about they’d done, Dani was pretty sure she wasn’t looking too elegant but then neither was Nat. Halfway through the class he had stripped off his jumper to reveal a blue shirt beneath. As he did so, it rode up so that Dani could see a little strip of hairy stomach. It was a flash of vulnerability that made her relax. As had seeing him act so goofy on the playing field. Running left when Nurse Van Niekerk said right. Nat may have been top of his A-level classes at school, but he’d never been an athlete.

  Dani felt suddenly tender towards the Nat of her memories, who was prone to getting the tables mixed up on his waiting shifts and tripping over his own big feet.

  ‘I reckon your Jezza’s going to be a star pupil,’ Nat commented. ‘He’s very clever. What breed did you say he was again?’

  ‘He’s a cross-breed,’ said Dani. ‘Half poodle. Half Staffordshire bull terrier.’

  ‘A Staffy-poo!’ Nat laughed.

  ‘I really don’t like that term,’ said Dani. ‘It sounds a bit undignified. The poo bit.’

  ‘He’s very good looking, though,’ Nat said.

  ‘He is, isn’t he?’ Dani was proud to admit. ‘Though I have no idea what he’ll look like when he’s fully grown.’

  Right then, he looked not unlike Dennis the Menace’s dog Gnasher, with his sharp eyes and halo of sticky-out hair.

  ‘Princess certainly seems to be taken with him.’

  The two puppies were bouncing ahead of Nat and Dani. Now they stopped to run around each other, so that Nat and Dani both got tangled up in their leads, causing them to bump together.

  ‘Sorry!’ Nat held Dani upright so she didn’t topple over while she untied their legs. It wasn’t until she’d finished doing so that she realised this was the first time she had touched Nat Hayward since 1996. Perhaps he realised the same thing at the same moment. They gently moved apart.

  With the puppies on slightly shorter leads and a bigger gap between them, they continued on their way.

  ‘Did Lola enjoy her birthday party?’ Dani asked.

  ‘I think so. She was certainly happy to get a dog.’

  ‘I could tell. And how about you, though? You looked a bit surprised to see a puppy in that box.’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘Lola’s parents didn’t ask you before they bought Princess?’

  ‘I don’t think Lola’s father is the kind of man who asks before he does anything,’ said Nat.

  On what little she had seen of Lola’s father, Dani thought that seemed a fair assessment.

  ‘It’s OK,’ Nat continued. ‘It wasn’t in the immediate plan but I’ve always loved animals and getting a dog is one of the signs that you’re a real adult, isn’t it?’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Dani. ‘Look at us. Adulting.’

  ‘About time, I suppose.’

  ‘Are you forty now?’ Dani asked. A little disingenuously. She knew he would be soon.

  ‘Almost. Thanks for reminding me.’

  ‘I’m not far behind.’

  ‘But you’ll always be younger than me.’

  ‘Twenty-one months and sixteen days.’

  ‘No need to rub it in, Parker!’ Nat joked.

  No one had called Dani ‘Parker’ in a long time.

  ‘Thanks for the cake, by the way,’ said Nat.

  ‘Did you taste it?’

  ‘Of course. We took some home. It was great. I’m sorry I didn’t have time to thank you in person on the night but I guess you were on duty and so was I.’

  ‘It’s hard work being the host.’

  ‘It is when you’ve got such a demanding birthday girl,’ said Nat.

  Dani was all ears.

  ‘Lola likes things done the way she wants.’

  He didn’t elaborate.

  ‘Have you got time for a coffee?’ he asked then.

  ‘When?’

  ‘Well. How about now?’

  Dani glanced at her watch. Then she laughed. ‘I don’t know why I just checked the time,’ she said. ‘Today is my day off.’

  ‘But you might have a hot lunch date.’

  ‘The only hot thing I have planned for lunch is a jacket potato,’ said Dani.

  Nat grinned. ‘Sounds good to me. Where should we go? I don’t know of any places round here that take dogs. Never had to think about it before.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Dani. ‘There
is one place I can think of but it’s a pub.’

  ‘Bit early for a pub.’

  ‘Not if we’re only drinking coffee.’

  ‘You’re absolutely right,’ said Nat.

  They went to The Sailor’s Trousers. Dani wasn’t entirely sure that dogs were allowed but it was a pub so grubby that the average dog could only raise the standard of general cleanliness by catching up some muck on its tail. The bar was empty, apart from two old chaps watching racing on the telly and a younger guy feeding a slot machine.

  The landlord looked half thrilled and half shocked to see two more customers. He was less happy when Dani ordered two coffees, which were made with powder from a crusty-looking jar and UHT milk from a carton. The landlord was still trying to discourage his punters from drinking anything other than beer, long after all his competitors were making a fortune from frothy cappuccinos.

  ‘The only way you’re going to get froth on your coffee in this place is if the landlord spits in it,’ Dani observed while he walked to the other end of the bar to get some change.

  ‘I will never ever ask for a cappuccino,’ Nat confirmed.

  Dani and Nat sat outside in the garden. Such as it was. The landlord of The Sailor’s Trousers didn’t hold with outside spaces either. He’d only bowed to pressure to put out a picnic table because the smokers were threatening to go elsewhere. There were no plants in the little walled area, unless you counted the weeds.

  Nat spread his handkerchief – a proper cotton one – over the dirty bench so that Dani could sit down.

  ‘I think your hanky is possibly worth more than my jeans,’ Dani said. ‘But thank you. You were always very chivalrous.’

  ‘You’ll make me blush.’

  Nat sat down opposite. They were silent for a minute or two before they both went to talk at once.

  ‘You first,’ said Dani. ‘I was just going to say something silly.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘What was your silly thing?’ Dani asked.

  ‘I was just going to say I can’t believe you’re still here,’ said Nat.

  ‘Neither can I,’ said Dani. ‘I mean, it isn’t what I planned.’