by Clare Lydon
“She’s doing alright — she’s been quiet today, but she’s been getting along with Bouncer and Margo, haven’t you, girl?” Alan bent down and petted Delilah on the head, and she tilted her neck one way to let him.
A few minutes later Tanya was sat on the cream sofa, a sizeable gin and tonic in her hand. She took a sip, rolling the ice around the glass, sighing as it worked its magic.
“You’ve no idea how much I needed this,” she said, letting out a low sigh.
“I can imagine. I was going to come, but I thought Celia would have appreciated me looking after Delilah more, so I did.” Alan hadn’t come to the funeral, instead taking care of the dogs. He’d said his goodbyes to Celia the night before, and he’d popped into the wake, too.
“Gran would have thanked you,” Tanya replied. “To be honest, I would have rather spent time with the dogs than most of the people there today, and I think Celia would have said the same. But she didn’t get the choice.” An image of her gran laughing sprang up in her mind and she swallowed down some tears. She hadn’t truly cried yet, probably because she was so tightly wound due to spending the day in close proximity with her mother.
Now, for the first time since she’d woken up this morning, Tanya relaxed, her guard down. It was a dangerous state to be in.
“I still can’t believe she’s gone, you know,” she said. “Did you see her in the last few days?”
Alan nodded. “I did, and she was grand. She was resigned, but she told me she’d had a happy life, and she was so proud of you. She loved your visit the other week, too. Didn’t stop going on about it.”
“I just wish I could have made another,” Tanya replied, guilt washing through her. She’d had a meeting about something that had seemed important at the time, but now she realised it meant nothing at all. It was the sort of thing her mother would do, and that thought almost made her retch.
“She understood you had a life; she was just glad you made it to see her as often as you could.” Alan leaned forward. “But let’s not let the gin get us all maudlin, shall we?”
Tanya rested her head back on the sofa and eyed Delilah. “You know Mum wants rid of Delilah now Gran’s gone?”
Alan nodded his head slowly. “Your dad said.” He paused. “I would have her, but I’ve already got two dogs here and I can’t really take on a third. I’ve been asking around but no luck as yet. She’s a lovely dog, she deserves a good home.”
“I agree — and so would Gran. I would say I can’t believe Mum could be so heartless, but I’d be lying.”
Alan changed the subject swiftly. “And how’s life with you? How’s the job and the new flat?”
“The job’s going well — boring legal stuff but they pay me a tidy sum,” Tanya said. “And the flat’s great, I really love it.”
“Celia would be thrilled. Two beds or one?”
“Two. It’s bigger than most flats I Iooked at, which is brilliant. There’s space for people to come and stay.” Tanya gave him a rueful smile. “That’s a hint, by the way.”
“Duly noted,” Alan replied, sitting up straighter in his chair. He studied Tanya for a few moments before continuing. “Bit leftfield, but have you ever thought about taking Delilah?”
Tanya shook her head. “Me?” she said, pointing her index finger to her chest. “I live in London.”
Alan gave her a look. “I’m sure they have dogs in London.”
“You know what I mean. I work long hours, and I live in a flat. It’s hardly conducive to having a dog.” She paused. “If I lived in a house and had a garden, maybe.”
“You did just say it was a big flat with lots of space. And have you got a park nearby?”
Tanya nodded. “There’s a lot of outdoor space as we’re by the river. The council are doing it up, trying to make it pedestrian friendly and swanky.”
“Well then.”
As if knowing she was being talked about, Delilah got up and walked over to the sofa, jumping up and getting comfortable next to Tanya. Her warmth seeped through Tanya’s black funeral trousers, and she snaked an arm over the dog, pulling her close.
“Delilah seems to like the idea, though,” Alan said, nodding towards the pair of them.
“She does, doesn’t she?” Tanya wagged a finger at Alan. “And I know you trained her to jump up beside me as soon as we started chatting. I know your tricks.”
Alan held up both hands. “It only occurred to me today — I just thought I’d mention seeing as I’m desperate to find someone who’ll take care of her, now your mum’s decided it’s a no-go. Shame, as she’s taken a real shine to you.”
Tanya looked down, running her hand through her soft black and brown fur, and a satisfying glow ran through her. “If the situation was different, I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I just can’t, not right now.”
But even as she said the words, guilt seeped through her, into her every pore. Her gran’s face popped into her head, and she glanced down at Delilah, her cheeks reddening. This was the one thing she could do for her gran now she was gone, yet she was saying no.
Chapter Nineteen
“So what are you going to call it then?” Rachel had just finished doing her yoga session on the lounge floor and was stretching her muscles. Every time she did it, Sophie was impressed all over again.
“You’re so damn flexible these days,” she said, emptying the dishwasher. “I should probably follow your lead now I have a bit more time on my hands.” Because that was another benefit of working from home: she’d lost her commute time. “Maybe I can take up tai-chi or something like that.”
“You should do yoga,” Rachel said, stretching her hands to the floor as she bent forward. “None of us are getting any younger, and your older self will thank you for it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Sophie said, putting some bowls on the shelf they lived on. “But before I start a pension plan for my old bones, I have to decide on a name for my new business. I’m putting the site live tonight and I need a name that’s not taken. Woolwich Dog Walkers is the current favourite.”
Rachel straightened up and gave Sophie a look. “Bit boring, isn’t it?”
Sophie smiled. “Yes, but it’s a highly searched for term — and if it’s what dog walkers are looking for, that means they’re going to find me.”
“You’re a marketing genius.”
“I know.”
“I still prefer my names.”
“But nobody’s currently doing many searches for Hot Diggity Dawg and Who Let The Dogs Out.”
“That’s because people don’t know what they want and people are dull.”
“I can add in humour once they’ve found me,” Sophie said. “But they’ve got to find me first.”
“I know, and you’re right.” Rachel sighed. “Woolwich Dog Walkers it is. But don’t come crying to me when you’re trying to impress women with your business card and they run a mile on account of your lack of creativity.” She paused. “Women like Tanya, for instance.”
Sophie gave her a look. “If Tanya sees me with a dog, she’s unlikely to come anywhere near me after the Branston incident.”
“I still love that story — tell me again.”
“No,” Sophie said, grinning despite herself.
“Have you seen her lately?”
Sophie shook her head: she’d been keeping an eye out for her, but they hadn’t run into each other since she left for home. “I think she might still be away. I feel like I should go round there and see how she is, but I don’t want to pry. She seemed upset when I saw her.”
“Understandably.”
“I know.”
“Well, you should go round — it’s a neighbourly thing to do.” Rachel paused. “And you’ve got no other reason for doing so whatsoever.”
Sophie raised one eyebrow. “What does that mean?”
“You know what it means. You’re interested in her.”
Sophie squirmed. She still wasn’t ready to admit anything to Rachel, because sh
e didn’t want to get burned again. Yes, she wanted a girlfriend, and she was attracted to Tanya. But she had no idea where Tanya’s head was at, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up, only for them to be dashed again. For all she knew, Tanya could be just another Helen. Her stomach flipped at that thought.
Please don’t let her be another Helen. Surely the universe couldn’t be that unkind, could it?
“She’s a good looking woman,” Sophie said eventually, trying to make it sound as casual as possible. She even added a shrug just for good measure, but she could tell the way Rachel was looking at her that she wasn’t buying it. They’d known each other too long.
“She is,” Rachel replied.
“Any lesbian would be interested, don’t you think?”
“I’m not.”
“Good,” Sophie said. “Let’s make sure it stays that way, shall we?”
“No, you’re not interested in her at all,” Rachel grinned, getting up and stretching her whole body up to the ceiling.
“I’m interested in how she’s doing, as a friend,” Sophie replied, but even she could tell it didn’t sound convincing — and that’s because it wasn’t. Sophie’s interest and attraction to Tanya was struggling to break free, but she wasn’t letting it. She was sitting on it, constraining it, not giving it the room to breathe. Because if she did that, she wasn’t sure what might happen. Or, more importantly, how her emotions would fare. She was only just getting over Helen; she didn’t need another knockback.
“Sure you are,” Rachel said. “But can I just say, I for one am glad you’ve dumped Helen and moved on. I thought you might mope like you did over that other girl, but you didn’t. I’m impressed.”
Sophie puffed out her chest. “I don’t mope,” she said, putting away the pan they used to boil eggs. They really should just leave it on the hob, seeing as one of them used it every day.
“Much,” Rachel told her. “But you haven’t with Helen — it’s like you were telling the truth when you said you knew it wasn’t a forever thing.”
“I was,” Sophie said. “My ego’s still a little dented, but she wasn’t my one, was she?”
Rachel raised an eyebrow at that. “And Tanya might be?”
Sophie shook her head, feeling the blood rise in her cheeks. Damn her inopportune blushing! “I never said that — you’re putting words into my mouth. All I’m saying is that I like Tanya. And yes, she’s attractive.” Okay, off the scale gorgeous, but she was still keeping a lid on her attraction, remember? “But it’s just friendship for now, and I’m happy to offer it,” Sophie said. “She’s got a lot on her plate, what with moving and her gran dying.”
“But you didn’t know her, yet you’re drawn to her — I can sense it. And I can sense something’s going to happen — and you know my senses are always to be trusted.” Rachel was rolling up her yoga mat now, switching off the YouTube yoga video she’d been following.
“I’m not sure they are,” Sophie said, walking round to sit on the sofa. Rachel was constantly telling her she was psychic, but so far, the evidence was minimal. However, right at this moment, she wanted to cling to Rachel’s belief, because her own confidence that something might happen was pretty flimsy.
If Rachel thought so, maybe it might come true.
“My point is, you haven’t made a new friend in a while. I feel change coming on for you, growth. You’re open to it as well, which is a new thing for you.” Rachel paused. “I think you might almost be ready to do proper adulting: new business, new friendships, and who knows, perhaps new love!”
Sophie gave her a look, even though if she really dug down and let herself feel what she was feeling, she actually agreed with Rachel for once. Rachel was prone to hyperbole, but where Tanya was concerned, hyperbole was something Sophie could absolutely get behind.
If she was honest, she wanted her heart to beat out of her chest, she wanted grand declarations, she wanted the works. She just wasn’t sure if her heart would give her permission after their last outing together with Helen.
Chapter Twenty
Tanya was glad it was the weekend: getting through this week had been horrific. She simply couldn’t get the image of her gran’s coffin being lowered into the ground out of her mind, and she kept waking up at 4am, dazed, numb, broken. She wasn’t crying, though — somehow, she couldn’t. Her body was simply leaden, a dead weight, and she was hardly eating either. Her clothes hung limply on her tall frame, and nothing felt right, normal. Because it wasn’t.
In a way, she wanted desperation to come and swallow her whole, just so she could grasp a solid feeling and hold it in her arms, rocking back and forth. She’d put up with the futility if she could just feel something pure. At the moment, it was as if she was an empty vessel, her emotions having jumped overboard.
And then sometimes, like yesterday at lunch with her boss, she’d forget she should be sad and find herself laughing at a joke — and then feeling guilty for that. She couldn’t win.
This morning, she’d woken up and smelt her gran: vanilla, lilies, roses. She was right there, the fragrance of her soft, delicate skin lingering in Tanya’s nostrils.
Tanya could have sworn she was stroking her cheek, whispering Delilah’s name in her ear.
She knew it wasn’t real — she didn’t believe in ghosts. Unless Alice’s predictions for her having a haunted flat were about to come true.
However, it had been enough to make Tanya run out of the flat in a funk, and now she was sat on a bench looking over the Thames. So much for enjoying her weekend mornings on her balcony.
This morning was clear after a week of unsettled weather. It was 9.30am and the river was low, the tide out. Brown and green marks covered the river walls, and tug boats bobbed lightly on the river’s surface, their chains sticking out of the shallow waters.
Over on the far side, Tanya spotted some eager rowers lowering their boat into the water, their wellies standing at the top of the shore, their lycra gear clinging to their slim bodies. She’d dated a rower once, she remembered how fit they were, and also how much they drank. She glanced to her left and spied the Woolwich ferry gliding across the short river span, taking cars and passengers to the other side: even though it was early, there was already a queue of cars building on the north side.
The world continued to turn, even though hers had tilted. What should she do to rectify it, get it back on an even keel? She still wasn’t sure.
A dog barking interrupted her thoughts and Tanya glanced to her right. A massive dog was bowling down the path, its owner struggling to get a hold of its leash. The dog looked like a massive teddy bear on furry stilts, and he was high on life, clearly revelling in the Saturday morning sunshine. The same couldn’t be said for its owner.
It was only when the owner came into clearer view that Tanya realised it wasn’t the owner: it was Sophie, looking hot, bothered and a touch frazzled.
Tanya waved as she got closer, the dog calming down as it neared her and Tanya stroked it, receiving a warm lick on her hands in return.
It was strange how the world worked, wasn’t it? Tanya had grown up with dogs, but when she’d moved out of home all those years ago, she’d left them behind, too. But now, dogs were in her life constantly thanks to her recent move and her meeting with Sophie.
And then there was Delilah. Could she cope with a dog? It seemed like what Alan said was right: people did have them in London.
Sophie was soon pulling up at her bench, taking a swig from the water bottle in her hand. She was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, with Aviator shades on her face, her hair dappled with sunshine. Tanya smiled: Sophie was the coolest dog walker around.
“Hey you,” Sophie said, coming to a halt and yanking on the dog’s leash. “Smudge, what did I just say, stop being such a big puppy,” she said, with a grin. She leaned down and rubbed the dog’s belly. “I swear, he could get away with anything, look at him.”
“He could,” Tanya agreed, as Smudge panted, his long, pink tongue h
anging out of his mouth, his teeth glinting in the morning sunshine. “Nobody would ever think you’d do anyone any harm, would they?” She paused. “What breed is he? I’m assuming not just ‘teddy bear’?”
“He’s an Airedale — and he’s only a year old. By the time he’s grown, his owners might be able to ride him to work.”
“It’d save on tube fares.”
Sophie grinned. “I walk Smudge every day — he needs the exercise. But sometimes, I think it’s more him taking me for a walk than the other way around.”
“I didn’t like to say,” Tanya replied. She also didn’t like to say how much she’d enjoyed Sophie being dragged towards her, her shorts showing just enough leg to pique Tanya’s interest, her T-shirt revealing surprisingly tanned arms for this time of year. In fact, this was one of those moments where Tanya had realised she was smiling, but she let herself — her gran wouldn’t mind her smiling at Sophie, a ray of Technicolor sunshine in a life that had suddenly been cast into black and white since her gran’s death.
Sophie sat on the bench next to her, pulling Smudge between them, rubbing his fur to keep him amused. “So how are you? How did the funeral go?”
Tanya saw last week whizz through her mind: her mum’s face, her dad’s faltering voice, Alan’s warm hug, her gran’s coffin, Delilah’s pleading eyes. She blew out a breath and tried to erase it all from her memory, instead nodding her head, staring over the water.
“It was… okay. We saw her off, my parents were the same.” She shrugged her shoulders, patting Smudge as she did. “But I have a dilemma.” She turned to face Sophie, trying not to stare at her full lips.
“When my gran died, she left her dog. My parents have been looking after her, but now they want to give her away — they’re good at that. So the question is, should I take the dog? Do I have the right lifestyle for it? I always thought I might get a dog somewhere down the line, but maybe when I’d moved out of London, when I had a partner. But now, it’s kind of in front of me and I have to make a decision.”
