‘Why not? The Kardashians got them for their boxer.’
‘That’s not a medical endorsement. You can’t have implants put into Murphy.’
‘But he might get depressed. That happens, you know, after surgery. I know I’d be depressed if I lost my balls.’
Scarlett thought of Rufus. ‘From the research I’ve read, some dogs do show signs of depression after surgery, Max, but it’s not specific to the type of surgery. It can be from the trauma of procedure or the pain of recovery, or the anaesthetic or drugs causing a chemical imbalance. Males aren’t depressed because they miss their bollocks.’
‘Well, then, what if he has self-esteem issues when he sees other dogs and realises he’s different?’
He just wasn’t giving up. ‘I wouldn’t worry about Murphy’s self-esteem. He’s a secure dog.’ She couldn’t believe she was actually having this conversation. ‘Besides, it’s a moot point. I’m pretty sure giving a dog silicone implants would be banned under the Animal Welfare Act. Why don’t you try to relax?’
‘Easy for you to say.’
‘I’m just about to get to another client’s, Max. Can I ring you later?’
‘Na, that’s okay. I’ll ring Charlie. Thanks, Scarlett.’
The trees in Margaret’s front garden were dense with dark foliage now. She hadn’t noticed before. What else had she missed these past few months while her marriage was crumbling?
She remembered the first time she saw Margaret’s house. She’d thought the woman’s life was perfection personified, straight out of Better Homes and Gardens. But perfection only existed from the outside, assumed by people who didn’t know the whole story. It was such an illusion. Everyone was really just getting by as best they could, and wondering if they’d get found out.
Margaret answered the door with a smile and a steaming mug of tea. ‘Mrs Fothergill, hello!’
‘Margaret, won’t you ever call me Scarlett? Really, I appreciate such high regard, but it’s not necessary.’
‘Come in, then, Scarlett.’ She smiled shyly. ‘Oh, that still feels odd to say, but I suppose I can get used to it.’
‘Good, because I have a proposition for you and it’s not work-related. Finish your tea and we’ll take Biscuit for a walk on the Heath. I’d like to take you to lunch after, if you’re free.’
Her face crinkled into a smile. ‘You want to have lunch with me? I’d love that!’
‘You’d love what, Mummy?’ Her daughter came down the stairs.
‘Scarlett, you remember my daughter, Cleo? We’re going for lunch, darling.’
‘But it’s barely eleven,’ said Cleo, her tone turning petulant. ‘I thought you were making us quiche for lunch?’
Margaret downed her tea and grabbed Biscuit’s lead. ‘Everything’s in the fridge and the recipe is in the Mary Berry cookbook.’
Her hand went to her hip. ‘But why are you telling me this?’
‘So you can make the quiche if you want, darling. It’s not hard. You’ve seen me do it a million times.’
‘Couldn’t you make it before you go? It’d only take you a minute to put together.’
‘Then it’ll only take you about twenty.’ Margaret kissed her daughter on the temple. ‘If you don’t want to…’
Cleo’s expression was hopeful.
‘… then you can order something from Deliveroo. We’re going out to lunch.’ She turned to Scarlett. ‘There’s a Japanese restaurant on the high street I’ve been wanting to try. But maybe you prefer French? There’s also a French place that I know is good.’
‘It’s your lunch, Margaret, so we’ll go wherever you want to. I’ll love whatever you choose.’
Margaret didn’t seem to know what to do with this information. She was obviously still not used to getting what she wanted.
But then she nodded. ‘Japanese, I think. Maybe I’ll change my mind on the way.’ She chuckled with the excitement of the prospect.
Biscuit trotted along the pavement beside Margaret as if that’d always been her place. Scarlett liked this new and improved Biscuit formula.
‘She’s really very obedient now, isn’t she?’
‘I don’t suppose you train families, too?’
‘Sorry, no, just dogs.’ A service like that would have a waiting list as long as her arm.
‘That’s all right,’ said Margaret. ‘They are learning. I suppose one day they’ll start fighting me, but right now they’re too shocked when I stand up to them. You should have seen Arthur after the party. It was like he was courting me all over again. That man can’t bend over backwards far enough these days.’ She looked about a decade younger when she laughed.
Scarlett tried not to be jealous of Margaret’s change of fortune. If an arrogant arse like Arthur could see how lucky he was to have someone like Margaret, then what was Rufus’s problem?
‘Are you happy that you married, Margaret, and had children?’
Margaret looked as surprised by the question as Scarlett was to have blurted it out. Totally unprofessional behaviour.
‘Wow, that’s a question for wine!’ she said.
‘Sorry, Margaret, I shouldn’t have–’
‘No, no, it’s an interesting one. It’s hard not to let the last several years colour my answer. I would say that, on balance, I am, although it’s not what I imagined. I wonder if the reality can ever live up to your ideals, though. It’s been a lot more drudgery than I expected. Still, there are moments of utter joy, even now that the children are grown. As much as Cleo and Archie can be exasperating, sometimes I look at them and I love them so much that I get light-headed. And then they’re rude and I want to kill them and the feeling goes away.’
She laughed, but she didn’t ask why Scarlett was so curious. Maybe she guessed it would be a touchy subject.
They walked up the hill and on to the Heath. It was Scarlett’s favourite park in London. Unlike the Royal Parks it felt wild and unkempt, with paths zigzagging up- and downhill through tall waving wildflower-strewn grass and surprising little woods where the trees arched overhead in a dense green canopy.
The sun shone, giving the glade they wandered through a dappled light that reminded Scarlett of the church on her wedding day. That morning had been overcast, but as she’d peeked out through the vestibule, with tiny Fred and Ginger (as yet unnamed) at her feet, the sun suddenly beamed through the stained-glass window at the front. Then she walked up the aisle to Rufus.
And now she was thinking about leaving him.
‘Isn’t this lovely?’ Margaret said. ‘I live so close and I bet I’ve not been here more than a few times in a decade. We’re going to come here more, aren’t we, Biscuit? We’re going to do a lot of things.’
The dog looked up when she heard her name. It was hard to remember the surly spaniel who bossed Margaret around just a few months ago. If Scarlett thought really hard, she could summon the feeling of exasperation she’d felt every time Biscuit had talked back. Maybe memories were like that. The feelings stayed sharp after the situation blurred. No, that couldn’t be right. Otherwise people would be left with loads of feelings without context. It must be the other way around. Feelings faded.
Perhaps then one day she’d be able to look at the past year objectively. She’d be able to see how a couple who loved each other as much as she and Rufus did (had?) could go from trying for the baby they both wanted to separating and talking through their best friend.
Part of her wished she’d never asked him to go for tests in the first place. She’d been so sure it was her fault. They didn’t have to get tested. She remembered that she hadn’t wanted to. Hadn’t she told herself it was better not knowing for sure? She wished she’d listened. Then they’d have been one of those couples for whom children just never happened. Heartbreaking, yes, but without blame. Maybe if Rufus didn’t feel at fault he’d have wanted to adopt.
What did they call it in gambling? A busted flush.
Her flush was well and truly busted.
Biscuit heard the commotion before Scarlett and Margaret noticed it. Her silky butterscotch ears swung as she peered at the top of the hill.
The little golden Chow Chow charged over the hill dragging his protesting human. ‘Will you please?!’ the girl cried. The puffball on legs stopped pulling long enough to bark savagely at the girl’s reasonable question. ‘Candy, no!’
Barkbarkbarkbarkbarkbarkbark. Candy was having none of it.
Biscuit sat to watch the spectacle. When Margaret’s hand found her head she looked up at her. Some dogs are so ill-mannered, her look said.
‘Remember those days?’ Scarlett asked.
‘I’ll never bloomin’ forget. But hopefully they’re behind me now. You know something? I think it’s going to be a good decade.’
‘I’m so glad, Margaret.’
She only wished she was as confident about the prospects for her own future.
Chapter 35
Scarlett’s phone rang just as she was brewing her coffee. She smiled. How wonderful not to have to ignore Shannon’s calls any more. It was hard enough ignoring Rufus. He still rang every day, but she found it even harder to talk to him now with the prospect of dismantling their marriage lodged in her mind. The precipice loomed.
‘I’ve missed our weekly business updates,’ Shannon said when Scarlett answered the call. ‘Not that we ever talk much business.’
‘Your love life is my business.’ Scarlett stirred sugar into her coffee. She’d once tried going sugar-free. It had sucked every last drop of enjoyment from her morning.
‘Puppy classes are finished, right, so you could see me today? I’ve got Sampson and the poodles this morning. How about at ten? There’s someone I want you to meet.’
‘Not Rufus.’
‘Better than Rufus. Mr Darcy!’ Shannon’s voice hitched with excitement. ‘Meet me at the gate at ten, okay? I’ve told him all about you. Remember to call him Josh, though. He doesn’t know about his nickname yet.’
Scarlett couldn’t keep the stupid smile off her face. And the dogs couldn’t believe their luck to get extra walkies in. The warmth of summertime? Sunshine and fresh markings to sniff on the way? Life was feeling just fine for them.
She could take a page from Fred and Ginger’s book, she thought, as they made their way to the park. Not the page where they sniffed bottoms or the chapter on eating toilet roll, but the ones where they found joy in the tiniest places.
Her world did have pretty deep pockets of happiness, as she thought about it. Leaving her marriage aside, everything else was good. In a few months she’d be an auntie for the first time. Her mum and dad and Julia were all healthy and happy. Her mum even had a boyfriend (which would still take Scarlett some getting used to). Businesswise, she would soon have to start a waiting list for clients, and it was just about the best job she could imagine. Not many people got to play with dogs for a living.
Plus, there was Shannon. She was her biggest support in whatever was to come, and now Mr Darcy had finally realised what an amazing woman her best friend was.
She was better off counting the blessings she had rather than the ones that were missing.
Fred and Ginger began straining at their leads long before they reached the park gates. ‘You see Shannon, eh? All right, relax, we’ll get there.’
The poodles sniffed half-heartedly at her dogs as she kissed Shannon’s cheek. Sampson might have been ecstatic about the meeting, but who could tell with that permanently grumpy expression?
‘So, does Mr Darcy know he’s meeting me, or is this an ambush?’
‘He knows. I texted him after we talked. And it’s Josh, remember.’
‘Josh, right. Nice mascara, by the way. You’re making an effort for the dogs, obviously.’
‘Obviously.’ Shannon grinned, self-consciously adjusting her glasses. She’d been wearing them more lately, Scarlett had noticed. ‘Crikey, Scarlett, this is fantastic. Why didn’t you tell me how much fun it was to go out with someone you’re mad about? If we’re not with each other, we’re on the phone plotting when we’ll see each other next. I could happily spend the rest of my life loved up like this! I hope it lasts till we’re old and grey, surrounded by grandchildren. Oh my god, I’m so sorry,’ she said, catching Scarlett’s stricken look. ‘Forget I said that, please. Romance really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. All that emotion, it’s so cringy. I don’t know how people stand it. It sucks. I hate it.’
‘Yeah, all that snogging and excitement,’ Scarlett said, trying to recover. ‘Just awful. I don’t know how you put up with it.’ She bumped Shannon’s shoulder with hers. ‘Don’t worry about me. Just enjoy being in lurve with Josh. You deserve it, really. I would be seriously annoyed if my situation meant you weren’t happy.’
‘We can both be happy, though, don’t you think?’
‘You just worry about yourself,’ Scarlett said. ‘Not me.’ She’d love to tell Shannon that everything would work out for them both, but whichever route to happiness she took meant giving up something important.
She just wished she could be sure which she wanted more. If only it was as clear-cut as choosing Victoria sponge over chocolate cake, or ballet flats over stilettos. But no, those were silly comparisons. If she snubbed chocolate cake, it wouldn’t then refuse to have anything to do with her for the rest of her life. Choosing comfortable shoes didn’t mean she could never wear heels again.
Rufus probably wouldn’t be as forgiving.
Ginger began to whine.
‘There’s Ginger’s boyfriend,’ Shannon said through a megawatt smile. ‘And Josh.’
She squinted to get a good look at him as he approached. Her eyes were playing tricks on her.
‘That’s Josh?’
Shannon nodded, waving to him.
Shannon described him so many times that Scarlett figured she could pick him out of a crowd. So who was the tall, lanky ginger guy walking the greyhounds?
His rock band tee shirt hung from bony shoulders and his legs looked skinnier than Scarlett’s. Up close, he was ever-so-slightly more auburn than ginger. His eyes squeezed nearly shut as he smiled and his wide mouth was at odds with his slim face. It did help to balance out his caterpillar-thick eyebrows, though.
Josh was proof that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and Shannon couldn’t stop beholding him. ‘Josh, this is Scarlett.’
Josh stuck his hand out. ‘I’m really glad to meet you. Shannon talks about you all the time.’
‘She talks about you all the time!’ Scarlett replied. ‘You and the dogs, I mean. Which one is Stevie and which is Nick?’
Ginger didn’t look able to tell the difference either. Her furry back end wriggled with excitement at being reunited with her twin loves. ‘They’ve got a devoted fan.’
Josh threw himself down on the path to stroke Scarlett’s dogs. As he toppled he reminded her of Shannon. She wondered if her friend noticed the resemblance. ‘They’re great dogs,’ he said. ‘I always had Westies growing up. They’re little dogs with huge personalities. Though quiet personalities are nice, too.’
When he reached up, Shannon took his hand. He didn’t see the oh-my-god-can-you-believe-this face she pulled.
He hoisted himself to his feet as awkwardly as he’d sat down.
‘Shannon tells me you’re a web designer when you’re not walking in parks and picking up poo?’ She unclipped the dogs’ leads so they could play with the greyhounds.
He laughed. ‘I’d rather pick up poo, to be honest, but it doesn’t pay the bills. Not like Shannon’s business.’
There was so much pride in his voice for Shannon that Scarlett thought she might love him already. Anyone who was so obviously devoted to her best friend won a lot of points with her. ‘She’s built it from scratch, too.’ She tried, and failed, not to sound like she was comparing her child’s science project with the other mums. ‘And she ran it the whole time she was in art college.’ Little Shannon did all the papier mâché herself.
Josh’s eyes dar
ted behind Scarlett, back towards the gates. ‘Well, it was very nice to meet you, and I’m sure I’ll see you again.’
The Westies took off towards the gate.
Scarlett gasped when she saw why they were in such a hurry. She glared at Shannon. ‘Josh was just a decoy? That’s really low. You’re both sneaky.’
Josh looked abashed, but Shannon said, ‘I know, but just listen to him. Please.’
So Rufus and Shannon had already made up. Otherwise they wouldn’t be in on the ambush together.
Scarlett kept herself from turning back around to face Rufus. He could probably hear her heart thudding. She listened to him approach with their dogs. Don’t be fooled by the jingly collars, she thought. That’s actually the sound of your future cracking and crumbling under your feet.
She wasn’t ready to step over the precipice and start the avalanche yet. As long as she stayed far back from the dangerous edge, she could go on hoping she’d find an alternative that didn’t involve losing either Rufus or her someday dream of holding her own baby. If she made her choice out loud, it would set a series of events into motion that, even if she changed her mind, or he did, the scars of the words would remain.
‘Scarlett, can we please talk?’
‘No, thanks, I don’t want to.’
‘Please,’ Rufus said, ‘we’ve got to talk.’
‘We’ll leave you to it,’ Shannon said, kissing Scarlett on the cheek.
Judas kiss.
‘Please, Scarlett. Nothing’s going to change by putting it off any longer.’
He was intent on making her do this now. He was right, too. She was being naïve. There wasn’t some elusive third answer waiting to be discovered. The real world didn’t work that way.
She watched Shannon and Josh hurry away. The sight of them holding hands brought the tears close to the surface. ‘Can I talk first, please?’ she asked, rushing on before he could answer. ‘I haven’t been honest with you for months. After the first three or four times I didn’t get pregnant I guess you figured we were taking it easy, taking things as they came.’
‘Because you told me that.’ His forehead was furrowed.
Love is a Four-Legged Word: The romantic comedy about canines, conception and fresh starts Page 29
