Raincoats and Retrievers, A Novella

by Cressida McLaughlin

  She’d continued to walk Alfie and Effie, but her exchanges with Juliette had been short and businesslike, and she hadn’t seen Will at all. She wondered if he’d gone away on his own, whether her offer of help had, in fact, led to them growing further apart.

  She phoned Juliette and asked to speak to the two of them together. Juliette was sceptical at first, but agreed to see Cat when she promised it was nothing to do with their personal life.

  She sat on their wide, cream sofa, stroking Alfie’s curly coat while the retriever snoozed gently, his head on her lap, Effie at her feet. Cat noticed that husband and wife sat apart, a sofa cushion unoccupied between them. She noticed, but she knew to ignore it.

  ‘What’s this about, Cat?’ Juliette asked. She was wearing jeans and a fitted red shirt. She looked calm, and immaculate as always, but there was a fire in her eyes that Cat was wary of, especially after their last encounter. ‘Are you putting your rates up?’

  Cat shook her head, swallowing. ‘Nothing like that. Juliette, Will, I don’t know if you saw the notice that dogs might be banned from the cove?’

  Juliette narrowed her eyes, and Will nodded. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’ll be an absolute killer. I mean, lots of my –’ he glanced at his wife – ‘surfing mates have dogs. You met Paddlepuss. It’s always been relaxed down there, and not the first choice for families, so it seems a little on the harsh side.’

  ‘It’s ridiculous, nothing more to it,’ Juliette said. ‘Has it got anything to do with those people at your event? The little podgy man and that Minnie Mouse girl?’

  Cat had to stifle a laugh at the thought of Alison as Minnie Mouse, terrorizing small children at Disneyland. She nodded. ‘I’m sure they’re behind it, and we – that’s me and my housemates, Polly and Joe – think it’s unfair that they’ve managed to get so close to the decision without us being given the chance to have our say. So –’ she sighed – ‘I’m sorry to ask a favour, but I was wondering if I could have your help?’

  ‘What can we do?’ Will spread his hands wide, the gesture matching his warm smile.

  ‘I was wondering how you felt about being part of my grand finale? You and your surfing friends?’

  ‘And doing what?’ Juliette asked sharply. ‘How could they possibly help with this?’

  Cat sat forward on the sofa. Alfie opened one eye for a moment, nuzzled further into her lap and went back to sleep. ‘Let me explain,’ she said, unable to stem the bubble of excitement at the last stage of her plan. It would hopefully help to keep dogs at the cove, but it might also, surreptitiously, be a way of bringing Will and Juliette together without either of them suspecting a thing.

  Cat woke on the last day of September to the sound of rain pelting against Mark’s bedroom window. She closed her eyes and snuggled into his back, the reality of the date eluding her for several blissful moments.

  Mark groaned and rolled over, wrapping his arms around Cat and burying his face into her neck.

  ‘Let’s not get out of bed today,’ he said, his lips tickling her skin. ‘The weather’s giving us the day off.’

  ‘Very tempting,’ said Cat, ‘but dog walkers are immune to the weather. And I’ve seen you walking Chips in the rain, looking all sexy and dishevelled like a tormented hero.’ She turned to face him.

  ‘Tormented hero?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m surprised you noticed. I seem to remember you had your hands full with several over-excited dogs and a terrified squirrel.’

  ‘You rescued me, and I would have been pretty ungrateful if I hadn’t taken the time to appraise my rescuer. Why did it take us so long?’

  ‘What?’ Mark asked, his brow furrowing. ‘To get the dogs away from the squirrel?’

  ‘To get to this?’ she kissed him.

  ‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘The best things are the ones you have to wait for. If we’d done it sooner, it might not have been as good.’

  ‘That’s some twisted logic,’ Cat murmured. ‘But I’ll let it go, for now.’

  While she’d been launching her protest at the looming dog ban, she had also been kept busy by Mark who, true to his word, had shown no signs of leaving Fairview, or even slipping back to London for a few days. He was attentive and fun to be with, and hadn’t lost any of his smoulder as they spent more time together. Cat was relishing it, finding out more about him, although part of her worried that he was still holding something back; that she wasn’t quite getting all of him.

  She understood that he had film wrangles to sort out, and sometimes his phone would ring and he would disappear into another room, shutting the door and leaving her with Chips and her thoughts for long periods of time. But it was his life, his passion, and she couldn’t begrudge him that.

  Splitting her time between number four and number nine Primrose Terrace wasn’t complicated. She felt bad that Polly had just got her free time back, and she wasn’t around much to spend it with her, but she hoped that Polly was so wrapped up in Owen that she hadn’t really noticed.

  ‘At least the dogs and surfers won’t mind the rain,’ Mark mumbled.

  Cat’s heart missed a beat and she sat bolt upright. ‘Shit! It’s today! How could I have forgotten? Stop being so distracting.’

  ‘I could distract you for longer if you like. It doesn’t start for a couple of hours.’

  ‘But I have to be organized,’ Cat said. ‘I need to make sure everything’s in place.’

  Mark rolled onto his back, closed his eyes for a moment and then got out of bed. ‘Come on then. I’ll cook us breakfast and we’ll be ready for everything today has to throw at us.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘I’m at your mercy for the whole day. Chips too. This is important to you – and to Chips – so it’s important to me.’

  Cat grinned, bounced out of bed and gave him a long kiss. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You practically perfect person.’

  Mark counteracted her soppiness by lifting her up and depositing her back on the bed. Cat didn’t have the inclination to protest.

  By the time they reached the cove the rain had slowed to a soft drizzle, and Cat thought she could see the clouds parting in the distance. She was wearing a padded parka over a fleece and leggings, all of which was over her swimming costume. Mark was in a black North Face jacket, jumper and jeans. Cat wasn’t sure if, despite telling him at least five times, he had his swimming trunks on.

  Harvey and Zara were already there, their ‘mobile surfers’ grotto’ parked in the car park, back doors open onto the beach.

  ‘How are the waves?’ Cat asked, running up to them.

  Harvey shrugged, stroked his long, fuzzy beard. ‘Not bad. Not epic, but not a damp squib either.’

  ‘Probably better for first-timers,’ Zara said. Her black, silky bob was slicked back off her face, and Cat wondered why someone who spent most of their time in the water felt the need to wear so much eyeliner. It must be super-waterproof.

  ‘That’s perfect, then.’ Cat nodded decisively.

  ‘You think this’ll work?’ Harvey asked. ‘This surfing dog mash-up?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Cat said, ‘but I hope so. The petition’s got over four thousand signatures, and Jessica Heybourne’s been helping to spread the word. But I thought we needed something special, something that would appeal to everyone – not just dog walkers – and show how we can all enjoy the beach together. Surfing’s a big appeal but there’s also paddling, the barbecue we’re putting on, just spending time down here – it’s so beautiful.’

  ‘So you wanted to fill this place with as many people as possible?’

  ‘As many people, and as many dogs as possible. I’ve got a council officer coming, someone from the Fairhaven Press, Fairhaven FM. I want to make a big noise, show them we’re not happy with what they’re proposing.’

  ‘Sounds awesome,’ Harvey said, ‘but then we already love surfing, and we’re pretty fond of Paddlepuss too.’ The pug was sniffing at their feet, skirting round Chips with ei
ther nervousness or adoration, it was hard to tell which.

  Leaving the surfers to get their van organized, Cat and Mark began unravelling the banners she’d made. Say No to the Dog Ban at the Cove. Dogs and Surfers Unite. Sea Dogs For Ever. They staked them into the sand, then began setting up an area with disposable barbecues, cool boxes and thermos flasks.

  Joe and Polly were the next to arrive, bringing food and paper plates. Joe had a rolled-up banner tucked under his arm. They joined them on the sand and Mark and Joe shook hands, eyeing each other warily. Cat watched them with an uneasy feeling in her stomach until Joe unfurled his banner, and the beauty of the design took her breath away.

  A wave ran along the bottom, cresting at the end and carrying with it a dog on a surfboard, complete with sunglasses and wide, surfer grin. Above, in bold, colourful writing it said, Let Surfing Dogs Hang Ten.

  ‘Joe, that’s incredible!’ Cat flushed. ‘I hope it survives the weather, because I want to keep it for ever.’

  Joe, rugged up against the cold in cargo trousers and a navy Animal hoody, shrugged and grinned. ‘I’ve used waterproof pens, so hopefully it’ll last.’

  ‘This,’ Polly said, waggling the thermos flasks, ‘is going to be amazing. A dog-and-surfer sit-in. I hope the council can see how important it is.’

  ‘They’ve promised me they’re coming,’ Cat said, ‘and so is Phil from the Fairhaven Press. He’s bringing his Labradoodles.’

  She glanced at Joe, and he looked away.

  ‘Who else is coming?’

  ‘All our guys,’ Harvey said, joining them. ‘We never miss a party – especially when it’s for a good cause.’

  ‘And people without dogs will hopefully want to come and try surfing, to join in, to support us,’ Cat said. ‘Harvey and Zara have got wetsuits and boards in their van that everyone can borrow, and a few of the surfers have agreed to show them how to do it.’

  ‘Can I try?’ Elsie asked.

  ‘If you want to,’ Cat grinned. ‘You too, Captain.’ She hugged Elsie and Captain, then crouched to greet the mini schnauzers. Disco stood on her hind legs and rubbed her nose against Cat’s cheek, while Chalky took the opportunity to lie on the sand, his head on his paws. ‘But you don’t have to, Chalky,’ she said, giving the older dog an affectionate rub. ‘We won’t make you hang ten, I promise.’

  Paris trotted up to her, and Cat felt a rush of affection for the little dog who, when she’d first met her, had been as timid as a mouse. Now the papillon with the amazing ears strutted around the small group, commanding affection from everyone in turn.

  ‘My little Parisian lady,’ Captain chuckled. He was wearing a navy hat with an anchor on it, and seemed in excellent spirits – whether because of the event or at being in Elsie’s company, Cat wasn’t sure.

  ‘What’s hanging ten?’ Mark asked, pouring tea into plastic mugs and handing them round. ‘I haven’t got a clue about surfing.’

  Harvey grinned a laconic, bearded grin. ‘I think you’ve just volunteered to be our first guinea pig,’ he said. ‘Come on, let’s get you kitted out.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Mark said, turning his smile on Harvey, ‘I’m fine. Maybe later.’

  ‘No excuses. Come on, mate, it’s awesome.’

  ‘I think Cat needs me,’ Mark said, trying to pull away.

  Cat kissed him on the cheek. ‘I need you to set a good example. If Mr Confident is reluctant to do it, then nobody else will have a go.’

  Mark gave her a pained look and let himself be led to the van.

  ‘Right,’ Cat said, rubbing her hands together. ‘Let’s get this show on the road.’

  By midday the cove was full of people milling about, having picnics and catching up with friends and, all the while, dogs and surfers went into the water, the four-legged chasing balls, the two-legged waves. Harvey had even tracked down a trained surfer-dog who competed in tournaments around the country. A Jack Russell, Bodhi was riding the waves on his own miniature surfboard, wearing his own doggy life jacket. Jessica, resplendent in a blue wetsuit, and with her Westies at her feet, was talking to a local television station, gesturing around her and captivating the interviewer.

  Will and Juliette arrived with Alfie and Effie, and Cat’s nerves increased. They seemed to be chatting amiably, and Juliette looked beautiful and relaxed in cropped trousers, flip-flops and a loose-fitting orange blouse.

  Cat waved to them. The retrievers were straining to get off their leads and join in with the other dogs. Cat knew that a huge dog fight would be a disaster, but when she’d promoted the event, she’d stressed the need for owners to keep control of their pets, and she was confident that they’d all be responsible. Nobody wanted to end up calling on Polly’s services.

  ‘Goodness, Cat,’ Juliette said, casting her eyes across the cove, ‘you certainly know how to put on an event.’

  Cat grinned. ‘I think lots of people feel as strongly about this as I do. Thanks so much for coming. We’ve got the food starting over near the car park, Harvey and Zara are lending surfing equipment to anyone who wants to try it, and, so far, everyone seems to be having fun. The main thing is that it’s busy, and Mr Council-man over there can see that we’re all getting along, and that we care.’ She pointed to where a beanpole of a man, wearing a white shirt and dark trousers and shoes, was taking notes on an iPad.

  ‘Good,’ Will said, nodding. ‘So, where do you need me?’

  ‘Well,’ Cat said, ‘Mark’s being taught how to surf by Harvey.’ She pointed to where Mark, looking effortlessly sexy in a black wetsuit, was standing on top of a surfboard on the sand, arms outstretched. ‘And I was wondering if you could teach some of the others who are waiting? I want them to stay here, keep the place busy for as long as possible, and if they get to have a go at surfing…’

  ‘Oh.’ Will’s eyes widened. ‘I haven’t ever really taught anyone before—’

  ‘Not a proper lesson, just a bit of fun, how they can ride in on their tummies. You’re so warm and friendly, and I think Harvey might be a little bit hardcore for some of them.’

  ‘OK,’ Will said, running his hand through his hair. ‘Sure, I’ll try.’

  ‘Great!’ Cat clapped her hands together. ‘Let’s introduce you to the new recruits.’

  While Will was talking to a group of eager teenagers, Cat took the opportunity to circulate her petition and thank people for coming. She approached Mr Beanpole, who was intent on his screen, his glasses slipping down his nose.

  ‘So,’ she said, ‘what do you think?’

  He looked at her, his greying eyebrows lowered. ‘You’ve certainly caused a stir,’ he said. ‘And I’ve collated the letters we’ve had over the last month, which amount to over two hundred.’

  ‘And over four thousand signatures,’ Cat said, her heart rate increasing. ‘Most online, but some more today.’ She waggled her clipboard. ‘It would be madness to stop dogs from coming to this beach, can’t you see that?’ She gestured towards the water, where dogs and children were playing happily in the shallows, Paddlepuss, Disco and Valentino among them.

  ‘The decision is being made tomorrow.’

  ‘And this is all our evidence. Haven’t we done enough? What’s our protest like, compared to the opposition?’ She thought of Mr Jasper and Alison, and shuddered.

  Mr Beanpole glanced at his iPad and sighed. He looked up again, his expression weary. ‘I’ll have to compile it all before the morning.’

  Cat clasped her hands together. ‘But you’ll take it to them?’

  ‘I can’t ignore this,’ he said, shaking his head.

  She nodded, trying to keep her poise, but her excitement bubbled up and she hugged him. ‘Thank you,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek, ‘thank you for coming. This means so much to so many people in Fairview.’

  Mr Beanpole stared at her, blinking, then gave her a quick, embarrassed smile. ‘I need to go and write all this up.’

  ‘Have a hot dog first,’ Cat said. ‘They’re delicious. And come
and find me before you go – I’ll have another fifty signatures for you by then!’ She pointed him in the direction of the barbecue and raced off in a whirl of elation, wondering who to tell first – everyone had put so much effort in.

  She spotted Phil from the Fairhaven Press, notebook in hand, his Labradoodles loping alongside as he spoke to a young woman with a baby strapped to her back. A hand landed on her arm and she spun round.

  ‘Joe.’

  ‘Hey.’ He seemed on edge, his smile not quite meeting his eyes.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

  ‘Nothing, I just came to see how things were going. The barbecue’s busy, the beach is rammed. You’ve done it again.’ He glanced behind him.

  ‘We’ve done it. I just spoke to the council officer, and he’s realized how many people want the dogs to stay. He’s going to take the petition to the committee. He can’t promise anything, but I got the impression that we’ve done enough to beat Mr Jasper at his own game!’ She put a hand on his arm, expecting a high-five, a hug, a grin at the very least.

  ‘That’s great,’ he said instead. ‘Look, can I talk to you? We don’t…you’re not around so much, at home.’

  ‘Of course.’ She frowned. ‘Give me ten minutes. Jessica can’t stay all day, and she’s been such a large part of this. I’m sure we wouldn’t have done it without her, so I need to tell her the good news.’ She squeezed Joe’s arm, ignoring the butterflies that had started fluttering low down in her stomach, and went to find her friend.

  After speaking to Jessica she was accosted by the radio station, and soon realized it wasn’t easy to give an interview when your mouth had dried out. Why did Joe want to speak to her? She had been so good at ignoring her feelings over the last month, throwing herself into her relationship with Mark, and the protest. Now she was faced with the prospect of having to confront them.

  She veered over to Juliette, who was watching Will teach a group of people how to go from crouching to standing, their surfboards still safely on dry land.

  ‘I had no idea,’ Juliette said to Cat as she approached. ‘I mean, how could I? I blocked it out, refused to acknowledge the change.’