by Matt Haig
‘A complete bloody nightmare, that’s who Danny Thomas is. He got suspended for letting off a fire alarm two weeks ago, and I’m always having to tell him off for bringing his skateboard into lessons.’
‘But flying off the handle isn’t going to get us anywhere. Isn’t that what you always tell me? Come on, Adam, let’s try and be reasonable. We’ll just have to talk to her and explain our concerns.’ She was now picking up the pieces of dried flower from the carpet.
‘You are joking, aren’t you? Danny Thomas is the last person on earth you would want your daughter to have as a boyfriend. He’s a complete bloody nightmare.’
‘I know, you said. But we’ll still need to talk to her sensibly.’
Adam loosened his tie. ‘Sensibly? You want sensible? OK, how’s this?’ He leant his head out of the room and angled it up towards Charlotte’s bedroom before shouting, ‘If you ever see that boy again you’ll be grounded for two months.’
Charlotte slammed her door shut.
Kate closed her eyes. ‘Well done, Adam. That was really helpful. Really . . . constructive.’
‘I thought so.’
england
I put the subject of Danny Thomas to Henry.
‘How is Charlotte?’ he asked me, once he’d heard the news.
‘Pretty angry,’ I said.
There was a pause. Henry seemed distracted and was watching his master, Mick, more intently than ever.
‘Are you OK, Henry?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. What were you saying?’
‘Charlotte. She’s angry with Adam because he’s not letting her out. He says he’s doing it to protect her. But I don’t know if that’s the only reason. There are a lot of danger-signs but I’m not sure if I can make sense of them all.’
Henry was now looking in the other direction, over towards the smell-heap. ‘You must pay careful attention to Charlotte. She will try and see this boy, and you must do your best to prevent this happ-’
‘Henry! Henry! Here, boy!’ Mick was standing up and calling Henry over to the bench. This was very unusual, as Mick usually wanted to stay talking with Adam until the last moment.
‘I have to go.’
‘But -’
‘I’m sorry, Prince, I have to. I will see you tomorrow.’
And so I was left sitting by the flowerbeds, watching Henry trot dutifully towards his master. I looked at Mick and again wondered why Henry had never told me more about him. The grey-haired, grey-scented former policeman who could talk for England.
bush
When Henry and Mick had left the park, I heard something to my right. A bush was moving.
The bush spoke: ‘Prince! Come here!’ It was Joyce. Realising she wouldn’t reveal herself in full view of Adam, I went over to her.
‘What’s the matter, Joyce?’
‘Prince, I have to tell you. Strange things have been happening.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘You told us before.’
‘No, no, no. Other things. Something happened in the park last night. Something terrible. I saw it all.’
‘What things, Joyce?’ I asked, pushing my nose through the leaves towards her.
‘Oh, Prince, you have to be careful.’
‘Careful why? What happened last night?’
She looked at me with frightened eyes. ‘It was terrible. The worst thing I have ever seen. Terrible.’
And then I heard Adam, jogging over to get me. ‘Prince! Come on! Come away from there!’
‘Joyce, what was it?’
She tried to calm her breathing. ‘It was Henry, and his master.’
‘Henry? Henry? Joyce, what do you -’
She disappeared backwards at the sight of Adam’s hand on my collar. ‘Joyce? Come back.’ But it was too late. I was already pulled out, and Adam was tugging the collar hard.
What had she meant? What had she seen that was so terrible? Had something bad happened to Henry, or his master? And why had they been in the park at night?
But away from the park, my mind started to clear. Joyce had told us one theory too many recently. For all I knew, she might have become a sniffaholic. She was hardly making sense, and I began to doubt if she had seen anything at all. Maybe whatever it was had been a hallucination. Maybe, after all those years hiding in bushes, she was beginning to lose her mind.
Yes, that was it. It was nothing.
Nothing at all.
signals
That night I had other things to think about. My immediate duty was to protect the Family, and that meant keeping a close nose on everything that happened at home.
I had been sniffing Kate every other evening, when she came back from the shop, but there wasn’t anything unusual in this. I sniffed everyone when they came home. It is what I did. A way of finding information, checking where they had been, checking everything had stayed the same. And when things were staying the same, that is pretty much all I had to do. Sniff. Check. It was simple.
But when I sniffed Kate that evening I realised things weren’t staying the same. Simplicity had gone. I sniffed again. But there was no mistaking the scent.
It was him.
Simon.
She smelt of Simon.
As soon as the scent hit my brain, something collapsed inside me. Why had she seen him? Why? And what did it mean, for the future of the Family? That morning, before my walk, Adam and Simon had gone running. Yet when Adam had returned - panting, bent double - there’d been no danger-signs. None that I’d noticed anyway. So whatever Simon was playing at, he was keeping Adam in the dark.
I sniffed again, but there was no mistaking it. Simon-smells were all over her clothes.
Of course, nobody else could tell. And she didn’t mention it. She didn’t come in and say: ‘Oh, I’ve just seen Simon,’ which would have made it OK. So I stayed with her all evening, watching out for any other signals.
Nothing happened, for a while. There was a certain stiffness to her body language. She was a bit quiet, too, during the meal, but that could have been down to tiredness.
Then Adam took me for a walk. As we went out the door I was sure Kate looked anxious. There was something about the way she looked up while drying the dishes, something about the way she said, ‘Be careful’. As if she thought bad things were going to happen.
But the park offered up no further clues. I tried to press Falstaff for more information, but he denied all knowledge. I then went over to the park bench, to Adam and Emily, to see what they were talking about.
They were talking about star-patterns. Cosmic energy. Magic forces. Adam was, as always, entranced.
‘I will see you tomorrow.’
‘Yes, see you.’
naked
Later on, Kate and Adam were in their bedroom.
‘Are you being serious?’ asked Adam.
‘Yes. I’ve never been more serious. You said yourself, you’ve had enough of everything.’
‘But . . . but why?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s just -’
‘Just what?’
‘I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Not properly. I just don’t feel we’re safe here any more.’
‘Are you worried about Charlotte?’
Kate’s spine jerked straight. ‘Charlotte?’
‘You know, with all this Danny Thomas business.’
Kate relaxed. ‘Oh no. Well, yes obviously. A bit. But it’s not that. Not really.’
‘Kate. We can’t just move.’
‘Why not?’
‘Are you seriously asking for reasons? Well, OK. The house. The mortgage. My job. Your job. Our children’s education. Your mother. The -’
Kate raised her hand. ‘OK.’
‘I thought you loved this house?’
‘I do, I do, it’s just. I don’t know. I’m being stupid.’
And then Adam stood up and kissed the back of Kate’s neck. ‘You’re not stupid,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’re right. We do need to get away. But mayb
e just for a weekend break, at first.’ He smiled, and Kate smiled too, but only when she could tell he was looking at her.
It didn’t stop there. When Kate had undressed, she appeared to have another concern on her mind. She was standing in the middle of the room, completely naked, while Adam lay back on the bed.
‘Tell me what you think honestly, about my body,’ she said. Adam raised his head up and surveyed her with weary eyes.
‘You’ve got a beautiful body.’
‘I’ve got an old woman’s body.’
Adam rested his head back. ‘A beautiful old woman’s body.’
‘A-dam. Look at me. Look at me properly.’
This time he propped himself up on his elbows. ‘You’re lovely.’
She pinched both her thighs and wobbled them. ‘That’s lovely?’
‘Yes,’ he said, without looking at the specific areas of pale white vibrating flesh. ‘You’re all lovely.’
‘My boobs are saggy,’ she said, drawing his attention upwards.
‘They’re lovely. Beautiful boobs.’
‘My neck, it’s like a road map.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘My bum, it’s lumpy and disgusting.’
‘It’s lovely.’
‘It’s finally happening. I’m falling to pieces.’
‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.’
‘I’m the ugliest creature on the planet.’
Adam sighed. ‘Why are you so hung up about looks all of a sudden? I thought you thought it was all vain and superficial?’
‘I’m not hung up. I’m just, I don’t know, starting to feel a bit invisible. It would be nice to be visible again, that’s all.’
Again Adam stood up. Again he kissed the back of her neck.
‘Come to bed,’ he said.
‘You’ve got to take the dog down.’
‘He’ll be OK. He’s a big boy now.’
They got into bed. They kissed. Adam closed his eyes. Kate closed hers too, but tight, the way I do when anticipating a hit on the nose.
Adam moved on top of her.
‘No,’ said Kate.
Adam kissed her forehead.
‘No.’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I can’t.’
Adam fell back on his side of the bed. His voice hardened. ‘I know you can’t. You never can. Not this decade.’
‘Adam, please -’
‘We’ll never have sex again, will we?’ he said, picking up his book.
‘Adam -’
‘I mean, we’re not having any more kids, so why have any more sex. That is how you feel, isn’t it?’
‘You know it’s not. And please don’t talk like that.’
‘No, what I do know is this: we haven’t had sex since Charlotte was born. For thirteen years. I mean, even bloody Prince gets more action than I do. And he’s got no bloody bollocks.’
‘You are horrible. Honestly, you’re turning into a monster.’
‘Well you might as well book me in for an appointment then. With the vet. Get mine chopped off as well. No, I tell you what, why don’t you just go the whole hog? Put me down. Do everyone a favour.’
‘Adam, please stop. Please.’ She started to cry. I went over to comfort her, the Simon-smells still lingering around her.
Adam put his book down. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s OK,’ she said, turning away from him.
Adam lifted the duvet back and got out of bed.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Kate.
‘I’m taking the dog downstairs.’
paw
Although I had tried to block out what Joyce had told me, I still found my mind wandering during Henry’s tutorial on temperament testing.
‘Are you understanding everything so far, Prince?’
‘Um, yes. Sorry.’
‘You seem a little distracted.’ He was watching me very carefully, and was clearly concerned.
I sighed. ‘It’s Joyce.’
‘Joyce?’ Henry’s milky eyes viewed me with curiosity.
‘She said that something happened, to you and Mick in the park. At night.’
Henry sat down on the grass, as he started to transmit sad-smells. He then looked over towards the bushes where Joyce could often be found.
‘Henry?’ He didn’t respond, just closed his eyes and breathed in the subtle scents of plant and animal drifting in the wind. ‘Henry?’
He looked like he could have sat there for ever, without saying another word.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have listened to her,’ I said, desperately trying to bring Henry’s mind back from whatever dark corner it was now visiting. ‘She’s just paranoid, it was probably just all in her head. It was dark, there were lots of scents about, you know what it’s like.’
‘Do you know Joyce’s story?’ Henry asked, eventually. ‘Do you know why she is a stray?’
‘No,’ I said, confused at what I believed to be an obscure question.
‘She told me once, ages ago. Probably before you were even born.’ Again he looked over to the bushes, to check Joyce wasn’t observing us. ‘Her mother lived on a farm, out in the country. But the farmer she lived with was a cruel man who didn’t want any more dogs.’
I still couldn’t see the relevance of his information. ‘Yes, but -’
‘And when Joyce was born, the farmer wanted to sell the whole litter. He put an advert in the newspaper, asking if anyone wanted to buy Joyce and her brothers, but weeks went by and no one wanted them. When he couldn’t sell them he placed them in a huge sack. The next thing she remembers, there was water everywhere. The farmer had taken the bundle of puppies to the river and was trying to drown them.’
Now Henry had me hooked. ‘So what happened?’
Henry swallowed. ‘As the bundle floated downstream, Joyce and her brothers were trying to escape, but because of the knot the hole in the sack was small, and the puppies were now large. Only Joyce and one of her brothers survived, the other three died. And to this day, Joyce blames herself for their death. In the struggle to get out of the wet sack, she was having to stand on her brothers.’
‘But how did she end up here?’
‘When they made their way out of the river, they found a small road and followed the direction of the cars into town. They nearly starved on the journey, but eventually made it, and found this park.’
‘So what happened to the brother?’
Henry scratched his ear. ‘They lived in relative happiness for a while, wandering around town, eating whatever food the humans had left on the pavement, or in the bins. But one night, when they had returned to the park, they ran into trouble.’
‘Trouble?’
‘A Rottweiler. He ran straight over to them and tried to . . . with Joyce. Of course, her brother wasn’t happy and wanted to stop it happening, but he ended up getting into a fight. While he was pinned to the ground Joyce tried to get the attention of the Rottweiler’s master, but he was over on the other side of the park, listening to music.’
‘Oh no.’
‘He died, the brother. And the body wasn’t found by humans for days.’
‘Poor Joyce,’ I said, but I still hadn’t made the connection.
‘After that, the Rottweiler and his master didn’t return here. By the time I first arrived, Joyce was beginning to find some peace of mind in her daily routine, although it was clear she still blamed herself for her loss.’
‘Right.’
‘But now the Rottweiler’s master is back, with a new dog.’
‘Who? I don’t -?’
‘Lear.’
I remembered Joyce’s ramblings, the day of our first meeting with the new Rottweiler. And suddenly her panic-smells made sense.
‘So, you think this is all getting too much for her? You think she’s losing her mind?’
‘I think it would be too much for any dog, don’t you?’
‘Well, er, yes. I
suppose it would.’
‘It’s clearly brought everything back. She’s starting to become scared of her own shadow.’
There was a pause. ‘Do you think we should talk to her?’
‘No,’ Henry’s voice was now urgent. ‘No. She mustn’t know that I’ve told you any of this. Prince, do you understand? ’
‘Yes, Henry. I understand.’
I understood.
Joyce was going mad because she blamed herself for losing those who had been closest to her. I also knew I wasn’t going to let the same thing happen to me.
So when Kate returned home smelling of Simon again, I followed her around all evening, on the hunt for further clues.
‘Prince, what’s the matter?’ she asked me. ‘What do you want?’ I wagged my tail and did my best to look like I hadn’t understood her questions, so she went to the jar and got out a biscuit. She held it in front of my nose.
‘Give paw.’ So I did and she gave me the biscuit. She remained confused as I still continued to follow her about while she tidied the house. But later on, on my evening walk, I realised I had made a mistake. I should have been paying more attention to Adam.
someone
When we got to the park, Emily was already sitting on the park bench, fidgeting with Falstaff’s lead. Falstaff himself was nowhere to be seen, probably submerged in the smell-heap.
Adam sat down. Not too far, not too close.
They didn’t say anything at first, and the air between them thickened. Then, after a short while, Emily made a sound. A crying sound. She rubbed her eyes but when I sniffed no sad-smells could be detected.
‘Are you . . . are you OK?’ Adam asked.
She made another crying sound, then said: ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t . . . I’m being daft.’
‘What’s wrong?’ He moved closer towards her, went to touch her, to comfort her, but hesitated, his arm hovering behind her back.
‘It’s Simon,’ she said, burying her nose in Adam’s shirt. Still the arm hovered behind, in a final show of resistance, before falling reluctantly across Emily’s shoulders.
‘Simon?’
‘I think . . . I think he’s seeing somebody else.’
‘Somebody else? Simon? No. What makes you -’
