by Beth Garrod
But after she ignored my pleas to postpone it (indefinitely) I grabbed my tea and headed upstairs.
We were opening the shop up at eleven – Mum figured dogs didn’t want ice cream before then – so that meant under an hour to get to the supermarket and back. I couldn’t skimp on getting ready, as not only was I going to “be the face” of GADAC, as Mum put it, but now I was also at risk of running into TMH. Saturdays were one of the days he was always at work. I had a spreadsheet. Password protected (Password: dontjudgeme).
I pulled on my stripey top. If I did see him when I was unprepared, I could lie sideways and pretend I was a barcode. I finished it off with the big B necklace Tegan and Rach had given me for my bday.
I shouldn’t have worried though, because when Mum said she wanted “company”, what she actually meant was, “someone to do all the lifting,” and we semi-sprinted round Tesco, totally undetected.
RESULT.
However, as I was loading the boot, TMH walked past at the exact moment my necklace got stuck in the trolley’s baby-seat, and he saw me almost choke to death.
UNRESULT.
We drove the whole way to GADAC with Mum saying she didn’t know what my problem was, that things like that happened to her all the time. But coming from a lady who once ate the tooth I’d left out for the tooth fairy (thinking it was a bit of popcorn), this was no reassurance. And by the time we arrived at the shop, I was completely over the day already.
Luckily, I’d made a plan to make the most of it.
Morning: man the fort looking all young-entrepreneur-y.
Early afternoon: search Tumblr for quotes from Amy Poehler and Zendaya and Emma Watson and Mary Berry and basically all who are wise, to help inspire me for tomorrow’s competition.
Late afternoon: dive back into the fandom entries for inspo.
Mum was going to be popping in and out to keep an eye on things, so all I needed for my masterplan was for the shop to be its normal quiet self.
Mum flicked the till on. “I’m expecting a really busy day today. I stuck a load of leaflets through doors advertising our first ever ‘free human ice cream’ day.”
Oh well. At least I still had the internet.
“So listen up, cos you won’t be able to just message me – the wifi’s being fixed and the reception’s terrible.”
I looked at my phone. Not even 4G. Were people allowed to work under these conditions?!
“Oh yes – and I’ve got you a uniform.” OH NO. Please not an outfit chosen by Mum. “Don’t give me that look – Shay chose it.”
Phew. At least I was going to do it in some sort of statement look – could be a good opportunity to replace my profile pics.
Mum dug around in the box behind the counter and lifted up a coathanger, on which today’s outfit was dangling.
It really WAS a statement look. And that statement was “dog”. A larger-than-human dog. A sort of a mutant King Charles spaniel. And even worse, it had a waistcoat. Dogs can’t even do up buttons. IT MADE NO SENSE.
“Shay said it was would be a great publicity stunt.”
I couldn’t form words. All I could do was stare.
“I like to call it Gary Barklow. But you can be whoever you want it to be.”
Still no words.
My screen lit up. A message from Jo.
HAVE YOU SEEN GARY YET?
SELFIE PLEASE.
So EVERYONE knew then.
She followed up with ten .
This could not be happening. If I didn’t totally owe Mum a massive apology I’d absolutely say no. But if there was one thing I was known for, it was sticking to my word. And being able to eat a packet of Quavers with no hands.
I lifted Gary off the hanger. He weighed a tonne. I was going to become two inches shorter just wearing it.
But Mum had places to be. And none of them were standing next to me while I moaned. So she whizzed through instructions about tills, customer toilets, and making sure I didn’t jumble up which free samples were for which species, and headed out.
And then it was just Gary and I left alone to look after the shop. What could possibly go wrong?
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
The first hour was quiet, give or take the twelve display tubs I knocked off with my tail, and someone coming in looking for a hairdresser. (FYI if I was going to ask anyone to recommend me a new hairdresser, I wouldn’t go for the person dressed as a large dog.)
So I took some pics (surprisingly hard with paws), found my old Game of Thrones notes which dropped out of my bag (they were like a historic artefact from a past life), got carried away reading them in the loo (before remembering I’d left the shop unattended) and practised my best dog voice. Should I speak to customers as Bella or Gary? Barry? They all seemed equally scary.
Even though my reception was snail speed, I did manage to check the Helicans forum thread again. But they’d had over 7000 dilemmas posted so getting any clues was impossible. However, I did spot loads of replies from Lis, Amil and Rosie, which made me even more nervous about tomorrow. They really were choosing the questions.
The first customer of the day interrupted my research.
She was a chatty older lady, so I opted for Bella voice. When she heard it, she gave me a massive smile. “Ooohhhh it’s you! How lovely to see you again, Bella!”
I nodded even though I had zero idea who she was. To cover my guilt I embarked (em-bark-ed) on a really long of-course-I-know-who-you-are-see-how-I’m-conversing-with-you conversation. She must be a friend of Mum’s from Pilates. Or my doctor. Or physics teacher. It was quite hard to see through these dog eyelids. Still she bought a tub of ice cream, so that was good news.
“Can you let your mum know I popped in?”
I nodded. And came up with a cunning plan. I grabbed a piece of paper as if I was going to take a proper note of it.
“And er, how do you spell your name again?” Genius name-finding-out skills.
“P-A-T.” Or not.
“Sorry – dogs are notoriously bad at spelling.” I laughed. She didn’t.
After that it was quiet again. I poked my head out of the door to try and see if any potential customers were around, but all I did was scare a small child.
Highlight was when a surprise visitor ran in. Tegan.
“Bells!?! Look at you?!”
I twirled. Then realized she hadn’t even questioned whether it was me inside the suit.
She looked sheepish. “Didn’t you see??”
Gary/me shook his/our head.
“Ah. Jo may have posted a pic and tagged you in it.”
Oh well, isn’t that wonderful? I checked my Facebook profile. Teeg was right – and to make matters worse, it was a pic Mum had surreptitiously taken that was out of focus and had a bit of her thumb in it.
Tegan rummaged in her tote bag. It had a new badge on it. “Blood, Sweat and Backflips.”
“Cool, huh?” It couldn’t be more perfect for her. “Mikey made it for me.”
“Made?!” I didn’t have him down as the craft type.
“Yup – I know! He’s the best. Although his mum said something about their kitchen table never being the same.”
“Not your fault.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself. Aaaanyway …” She put whatever she’d pulled out of her bag behind her back. “The point. Dad was popping into town, so I thought I’d cadge a lift and give you these…” She plonked down a family-size bag of peanut M&Ms, some Skips and my favourite magazine on to the counter.
“And THAT is why I love you.”
“And THAT is also why the lady in the village shop took one look at what I was buying and asked after you.”
Ha! “What can I say? I’m a creature of habit.”
She looked me up and down. “Well, you’re certainly a creature.”
As we laughed, a real-life potential customer strolled in.
I swiped my treats off the counter.
Teeg whispered, “And I wi
ll see you later…” and headed out.
I paw-waved goodbye and tried to look as professional as a giant dog can, which was a good job, as the customer had loads of questions. Determined to do Mum proud, I headed over to the main display by the window to try and answer them.
As he asked about whether dogs could get brain freeze, I spotted Tegan at the end of the street, looking up and down the traffic. Was she OK? But when a car pulled up, I realized she wasn’t going anywhere. She was waiting for someone. And it wasn’t her dad. It was a different guy driving – and as she climbed into the car, I swore I recognized him… Was it the guy from the bus stop?!
“So do you think the marrow would repeat on Colin?”
I landed back into the conversation with a thump. Before I could stop it, my mouth replied, “Who’s Colin?”
The man looked deeply offended, and replied, “My dog – who we’ve been talking about for the past two minutes.” And left.
EURGH.
How rubbish was I? I vowed to do better next time – and tried to make up for it by making more stuff for the GADAC social accounts. I filmed some excellent vids of me giving bark ratings for the different flavours, and came up with a hilarious comment about serving suggestion: ice cream and woofles. I was chuffed it got a like from 20% of our followers (Mikey, Rach, me and the account I just created for Gary). I was less chuffed that we still only had twenty followers.
In the afternoon things started getting busier. My Gary voice was getting pretty good, and I’d started to throw in extra-curricular barks to entertain customers. Or growls if I found them annoying. I’d also realized the benefits of being in costume – for the first time in weeks, when anyone I recognized from school walked past, they didn’t even try to talk to me. If only this was acceptable school uniform.
But someone I did kind of recognize walked in.
She was tall, had perfectly blow-dried blonde hair, actual brand jeans that weren’t saggy at the knee, and a white, oversized top, rolled up to show off her amazing tanned arms. OH MY GOODNESS.
One look at those beautiful wrist joints and I knew exactly who it was. Ska!
I gave my brain a big gold star for working it out, because it meant I was prepared when, seconds later, Luke traipsed in after her.
He looked round the shop as if we were selling small piles of dog poo.
“What the hell is this crap show?”
I wanted to shout, “Oi!” – but wanted to blow my cover even less. He made my life a misery enough for just being me; I could only imagine what he’d do if he knew I was a part-time hound.
Ska ignored him too. She was busy reading a tub, laughing at Mum’s joke about eating too much and turning into a pup-sicle. But Luke’s ego not getting the attention it demanded made it notch up an evil gear.
“Someone should have a word. This place is a joke.”
I took a breath so deep a dragon sound came out of Gary’s one nostril hole. Luke looked me right in the eye. Could he tell it was me? I didn’t know what to do.
I panic-barked.
Luke laughed – and not in a good way – and kicked at the dog water bowl we had on the floor, splashing an innocent Affenpinscher and its owner.
I stopped keeping it together.
“EXCUSE…” But as Luke looked, I stopped. NO, BELLA. Gary voice for this. He mustn’t figure out it was me. I dropped my voice as low as it would go. “… ME.”
Luke fake smiled. “Soz. Didn’t see it there.”
We both knew he was lying. But I had to be nice, for Mum’s sake.
I channelled my best I-don’t-have-a-personal-vendetta-against-you-I’m-just-a-helpful-customer-service-dog vibe.
“Can I help you with anything?”
Ska stepped next to him, giving me a truly pitiful smile.
“Yeah, actually. I wanted to know – are these ingredients all organic? My dog is a show dog, you see.”
Of course her dog was a show dog.
But I had to be polite. I mustered enthusiasm. “I bet she’s wonderful.”
Ska didn’t even blink. “He.”
Keep calm, Bells. Think of Mum.
“You can find all the ingredients here.” I pointed to the sign with the url on. And hit them with a new catchphrase for Gary that I’d been working on all morning. “So… BONE APPETIT!”
Luke sniggered.
But it wasn’t at me. It was at whatever Ska had opened up on her phone.
“Twenty followers? Big time.” He looked around. “I can er, I can help get those numbers up, you know.” He dropped his voice right down, “For a fee…”
This time it was me who couldn’t help but laugh. Which I had to emergency morph into an unexpected woof. Ha-oof.
“Sorry – I think you’re barking up the wrong tree?!”
The Affenpinscher owner laughed, but tried to style it into a cough like he wasn’t listening – or laughing. But the damage was done. Luke’s pride was dented and he stormed out. Victory.
And Ska stuck around to make a purchase. Victory2. I’d survived an encounter with my evil ex! I’d made a sale!
I was going to bask in this all afternoon.
Or not.
Because before I’d even sat back down, something much, much worse than the world’s worst boy walked in.
The opposite happened.
The world’s best boy arrived.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Yup, Adam was officially in Give A Dog A Cone.
What was this shop? A ice-cream-based magnet to all significant guys in my life?
My heart did a temporary stop.
But despite me missing three to seven whole beats, Adam was his normal casual self. Just as happy and gorgeous as I remembered. Laughing and chatting with his best mate Marcus as if this wasn’t the world’s hugest deal.
As if this wasn’t the exact day he said he was too busy and “long story” to see me.
As if seeing him in the flesh again wasn’t so overwhelming I had to step on my own foot to check I wasn’t hallucinating.
ARGH.
Why was I still getting all the feels (plus at least ten more) around him, when I’d been in training to feel nothing?!
And was it wrong that a tiny bit of me had hoped he’d died, just to explain his lack of contact?
I HAD to escape. But there was no way out. So… I did what any self-respecting dog-person would do. I crouch-hid behind the counter.
But what were they saying?
It was harder to eavesdrop than it should have been as I had a giant flappy ear over my actual ear. How on earth do dogs hear anything? Surely this is a major design fault?
“Mate!” Adam was deploying his boy-technique of “one word to mean ten things simultaneously”. From his enthusiasm I think it meant, “Friend who I’m with – have you seen this? It looks pretty cool.”
“Have you seen this? It looks pretty cool.”
OH. MY. ACTUAL. DOG. I still knew what he was thinking. I couldn’t hear what they said next but there was happy laughing like they were totally on-board with dog ice cream.
EURGH. How dare he be such a good customer, when I really needed to start hating him?!
“Hello? Anyone there?” His annoyingly fit voice came from the other side of the counter.
KEEP CALM BELLA. He might not see you.
“Oh – sorry. Didn’t see you down there…”
OK, he’s seen me. DON’T PANIC. Stay still and he might go away. Marcus might distract him any second.
But Marcus also peered over.
“You all right…?”
NO, MARCUS, NO! You were meant to distract him with something other than focusing on me. But I was in no position to debate this (unless the accepted arguing position was “sitting on your own heels”).
Accepting defeat, I went to stand, but I was so freaked out seeing Adam that my wobbly legs got caught up in my own tail and I sort of splatted on to all fours.
Well, this was going well.
&nbs
p; “Seriously – are you OK?” Adam sounded concerned, but I couldn’t speak in case he recognized my voice. And nodding was not an option – I had to keep Gary’s head on at all costs.
With zero clue of what to do, I froze. Unlike Adam, whose muddy trainers (and I assume attached body) were rushing towards me.
“Marcus – I think … think he might need help?” Argh?! Why was Adam so caring? And why did he assume I was a he? #dogcostumegenderbasedassumptions.
And why was he now standing beside me?!
And why was he asking if I needed a hand getting this costume off?!
I HAD TO THINK OF SOMETHING.
HE MUST NOT DE-HEAD ME!
I would die of actual embarrassment – meaning I would style out him thinking I’m dead. By being actually dead.
What would Jo do? No. Scrap that. What would Mumbles do?
I only had one idea. And it would plunge me to a new low. Which, considering I was on all fours in fancy dress, was a big claim.
But with no other option, I went for it.
I spun Gary’s bum round, square on to Adam. And did what any self-respecting dog would do.
I wagged my tail.
At the world’s sexiest man.
“Oh.” That’s literally all Adam could bring himself to say.
RIP, dignity. Dognity. It was nice knowing you.
Dream scenario for this weekend: boy I can’t help but think is amazing bumps into me, is dazzled by hilarious personality, tells me his long story was that he had to break up with Molly, realizes he thinks I’m great as more than a friend, professes undying love.
Actual scenario: wagging my own tail, while boy I’m obsessed with is warily patting me saying, “Good boy.”
Official life rock bottom. And rocking bottom.
If I was witnessing this, my heart would melt with how Adam was going along with this deranged human. But seeing as I WAS the deranged human I just wanted to cry.
But nobody likes the smell of wet dog.
“Erm, sorry not sorry to interrupt whatever this is, but we wanted to get one of these.” Marcus plonked a tub down. I looked up at it, grateful for this moment to end. Adam put his hand out to help me up, and for a beautiful moment we were paw-in-hand. Sort of like Beauty and the Beast except way more creepy and also THIS IS MY ACTUAL LIFE.
