‘This was taken last summer,’ she said, breathing hard. ‘Mum and Debs and Kate came to visit for the day. We had a lovely lunch there and then strolled arm-in-arm along the seafront for a few hours, chatting and catching up on stuff. It was a perfect day, and that was the last time we were all together.’
‘I’m so sorry, Jane.’ He didn’t know what else to say to console her.
‘Were you close to your family?’ She asked.
‘Yes. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them. I miss my mum terribly. Sometime last week, I think it was, I was up on Galley Hill and remembered my brother and I sitting on that spot eating fish and chips a year ago. I broke down and, just for a second, I thought of throwing myself off the cliff; I felt so alone and hopeless.’
‘Aw! Well, I’m so glad you didn’t, because then we wouldn’t have met.’ She smiled at him and gave him a hug. ‘And,’ she added after a second, with a cheeky grin, ‘if you had done that I really would have been up Shit Creek without a paddle yesterday!’ They both laughed.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s get these last few bits downstairs and go home.’
‘Okay.’
They carried the remaining things down to the trucks then drove home together and unloaded everything into the two houses. All of Jane’s clothing, bedding and personal possessions were taken next door and left in the lounge for her to sort through. The food, water and supplies they carried into the bungalow. They decided it would be best for now if they put all the food together in his spare bedroom. They planned to make an inventory of everything they had, so kept similar foods together. All the water was poured into the new water-butt outside.
They decided it was time for a well-deserved cup of coffee, and while it was brewing Jamie showed her the new sawn-off shotgun and the pigeons he’d shot earlier.
‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘We can make a pigeon casserole tonight, with some tinned tomatoes.’
‘And we can add some rosemary, bay leaves and chives to it as well, now we know they’re in the garden,’ he added.
‘Jamie, would you mind if I stayed here for another day or two before I move in properly next door? I want the bedroom at the back for the sea view, but it still smells of death in there. I’ve opened all the windows upstairs and want to let it air for a few days before moving my stuff in.’
‘Of course you can; no problem.’
‘That’s great, thanks.’
She looked out the kitchen window; the sun was getting low in the sky as evening drew on. ‘I think I’ll go down to the sea for a wash while there’s still some warmth in the air. I know I’ve got used to not washing for days, but after the events of the last two I feel the need to get clean.’
‘Good idea; I think I’ll join you.’ He realised what he’d said and blushed. ‘I didn’t actually mean join you… I meant I’ll do the same and go down after you.’ She laughed.
‘Here, take this; it lathers in salt water.’ He passed her the bottle of travel wash and a cup of coffee then took his cup outside to hide his embarrassment.
‘Thanks,’ she replied. She gave him a minute and then followed him out. He was looking at the wall between their gardens.
‘I was thinking after you left earlier; what about knocking an entrance through the wall, near the house? It would make coming-and-going much easier and be handy for when we’re working together on the gardens, for wheelbarrows and stuff.’
‘I think that’s a great idea. I don’t like the thought of us having to knock on each other’s front door every day, like polite neighbours do!’
‘Great. I’ll get onto that tomorrow, I think. It won’t be difficult. And if we need to, for whatever reason, I can always build a gate to go in there.’
Jane finished her coffee and then went next door to get some fresh clothes. She was back in a few minutes with a small bag of clothing and went into her bedroom. She came out in her bath robe and a pair of sandals, took the travel wash and a towel and headed off down the garden.
Jamie found a marker pen and walked across the patio to the wall. He shinnied up it and looked over, making sure that where he was going to mark an entrance was across both patios, then drew two lines down the wall, just under a metre apart. He reckoned that with the angle-grinder and a hammer and bolster it wouldn’t be a difficult job.
Jane was back in less than fifteen minutes, puffing out her cheeks and shivering, and with a concerned look on her face. ‘Jamie, there’s an injured dog lying on the beach! I didn’t see it at first, but when I came out of the sea I saw two seagulls pecking at something and then jumping back because it moved. I went over to look and it’s a black Labrador; it looks half-dead.’
‘Oh, bloody hell! I’ll go and have a look.’ Jane rushed off to put on some clothes and he took the revolver out of the dresser drawer, intending to put it out of its misery. He walked down the garden and through the gate, then down the steps to the promenade. He could see the dog about twenty yards away; three seagulls were pecking at it, so he shouted and they flew off. Jane caught up with him and they went across the beach and knelt down beside it. It was rather thin and its coat was matted and dirty. It wasn’t moving, but they could see a weak rise and fall of its chest. There were nasty wounds on its hindquarters; herring gulls have big, strong beaks.
‘Poor thing!’ said Jamie, and lifted the gun to end its suffering. It had a collar and tag with an engraved mobile phone number. Jane turned the disc round and read out loud ‘Max.’ On hearing its name, the dog’s ears pricked up; it opened its eyes weakly and whimpered.
‘Oh, God! Jamie, can’t we do something? D’you think we might be able to save him?’
‘Well, we’ve got to try. I can’t bring myself to shoot him while there’s a chance. Go back to the house: in the garage there’s a bin filled with rags, old sheets and blankets. Put some on the floor in the kitchen and get the stove fired up. I’ll carry him back.’
‘Okay,’ she replied and rushed off. Jamie stroked the dog’s side and scratched behind his ear; he whimpered again and his eyes opened. He tried lifting his head but was too weak.
‘Poor fellow! Come on, Max, let’s get you home and into the warm.’
He picked it up carefully, avoiding touching the wounds on its flank, then walked to the nearest steps up to the promenade and made his way back to the house. Kicking the gate shut behind him, he went down the path and into the kitchen. Jane had put a pile of sheets and blankets on the floor and was busy getting the stove going. He laid the dog down gently onto the blankets and then got his first-aid kit, a bottle of surgical spirit and cotton wool. He swabbed the wounds made by the gulls and the dog whimpered again at the sting of the spirit. Then he went into the bathroom and got his old beard trimmer, which he hadn’t used in months. The batteries were flat, so he fitted new ones and shaved the area around the wounds then put a few drops of iodine tincture onto them. He rubbed on some antiseptic cream and then stuck dressings over the wounds.
Jane had the fire going in the stove and flames were roaring away as she closed the doors. Jamie put a blanket over Max and stood up. ‘I’m going to shoot down to Warburtons, by Sainsbury’s, and get some dog food. There was a load in there when I went in earlier in the week for some things. Do you think he’ll be able to drink anything? He must be really dehydrated.’
‘I don’t know. I’ll put some water down by him and see if I can help him to drink. Water’s probably more important than food right now.’
‘Yes, you’re right, but I’ll still go down and get some food. If he survives the night he’s going to need it. I won’t be long.’
‘Okay.’
He got his car keys and a couple of shopping bags from the larder and left. He was there in a few minutes and parked outside, leaving the engine running. Under the counter were several bins of loose feed; a kind of doggy “pick ’n’ mix”. He scooped some from each bin into one bag, then filled the other with tins of dog food from the shelves and drove home.
Ja
ne gave him a big smile as he walked in. ‘He’s managed to drink some water. I sprinkled a few drops over his nose and into his mouth and he licked his lips and opened his eyes. I lifted him slightly and held his head and he was able to drink from the bowl. It took him a few minutes, but he must have drunk at least a pint!’
‘Ah, well done! That’s good news, and a good sign. I don’t think we should give him any food just yet; what do you think?’
‘No; it might harm him at the moment as he’s dehydrated. If he survives the night and perks up by tomorrow, we’ll give him some. Right now, water is probably enough.’
Jamie put the dog food away in the larder then knelt down next to Max and stroked his head and sides. ‘Hello, mate. You hang in there. You’re a survivor, just like me and Jane.’ Max wagged his tail feebly in response.
Jane smiled and then went outside to prepare the pigeons for cooking. They soon had a casserole simmering on the stove, with a few herbs from the garden and some sea beet that Jamie picked, along with some lentils and rice thrown into the pot. He opened a bottle of red wine and poured them both a glass.
He raised his to Jane. ‘Here’s to Max; fingers crossed.’
‘To Max!’ she said and clinked glasses with him.
Eleven
Jamie couldn’t sleep. He was worried about Max and lay in bed for over an hour, tossing and turning. He loved animals and had always wanted a dog, but had never been in a position to have one. He would be a great companion for them and also useful, both as a guard dog and as a gun-dog if they went hunting for birds or rabbits; it was, after all, what Labradors had been bred for. He hoped Max pulled through: it would be an added responsibility for him and Jane, in terms of feeding him as well as themselves, but he felt the benefits outweighed that. Do dogs eat fish? He wasn’t sure. They needed to make a trip to the warehouse at Sainsbury’s anyway, so they could stock up on food for Max as well while they were there. He gave up trying to sleep, lit the candle by his bed then got up, put on his dressing gown and went into the kitchen.
Max raised his head to look at him as he entered, and whined. He tried to stand, but his legs were unsteady and he only made it to a sitting position, his tail wagging. His water bowl was empty so Jamie refilled it and he had another long drink, while he knelt down and stroked him. He patted the blanket and Max lay down again and curled up, looking up at him with his big eyes. He put the blanket back over him, opened the stove doors and raked the embers then threw another log in. He poured himself a small whisky, rolled a cigarette and sat at the table for ten minutes before going back to bed and falling asleep, feeling much happier.
When he awoke in the morning and went into the kitchen Jane was there already, making coffee. Max was sitting up on his blankets looking at him and wagging his tail.
‘Morning, Jane.’
‘Morning, Jamie. Well, look how much better our little guest is feeling!’
Jamie bent down and stroked Max, who wagged his tail harder and whined. ‘Wow! He looks so different to yesterday.’
‘That might have something to do with the tin of dog food he polished off about an hour ago!’
‘Really? That’s great!’
‘Did you get up in the night?’
‘Yes, I couldn’t sleep- worrying about him.’
‘I thought so; I saw the whisky out.’
‘He’d finished the water we put down before bed, so I refilled it.’
‘Well, he’d finished that as well when I got up, so that must be getting on for three pints he’s put away. He certainly needed it. I wonder how he got so dehydrated: I mean, he’s thin, but not scrawny, so he’s obviously been eating something.’
‘Well, his back legs are much weaker than his front; more so than could be attributed to just the wounds from the gulls’ beaks. It occurs to me now that the wounds were pretty deep. I didn’t think of it at the time I was cleaning them.’
‘You know what I think?’ said Jane. ‘I reckon he attacked something for food that fought back; maybe a small deer. Those wounds could have come from antlers and some deer, like muntjacs, have tusks. Could even have been from a wild boar; I believe there are large numbers in Sussex.’
‘Ah! That makes more sense; you’re probably right. Poor thing, but at least he’s starting to perk up.’ They looked down at Max, who seemed to know they were talking about him and wagged his tail.
While drinking their coffee they discussed things that needed doing for the week and made a list, which they pinned to a cork-board on the wall. They added another sheet of paper, headed Ideas! If either of them had a bright idea about something they could jot it down when they thought of it, for the other to see. Jamie went down to the sea to bathe, having missed the opportunity the previous evening due to finding Max, while Jane prepared breakfast.
During the next week they got a lot of work done in the gardens of both properties, working long hours. There was much to do and they set to it with enthusiasm. Sometimes- weather permitting- Jamie brought his MP3 player outside, plugged into some mini speakers, so they had music while they worked and sang along to popular tracks. It made the days pass quicker and kept their spirits up, as well as increasing the friendship between them. At one point, after they’d both been singing their hearts out, Jamie said ‘You can tell a lot about a person by the way they react when Bohemian Rhapsody comes on the air!’ and they both laughed. They also picked up Jane’s car, a VW Golf, from behind her flat; its battery was low so they jump-started it from the Toyota and she took it for a run to charge the battery.
On the Sunday morning after finding Max they made an inventory of all the food and supplies they had, noting things they needed to stock-up on. They took both trucks to Sainsbury’s warehouse and parked in the goods yard. Jamie walked around the block to the entrance, through the store to the warehouse and opened the delivery doors at the back. Jane came inside and couldn’t believe how much was in there. They walked along the aisles collecting things in trollies and wheeling them out to the trucks. They filled the vehicles with tinned vegetables, meat, beans and fruit; dried foods like rice, pasta and pulses, and found many boxes of meats such as salami, pancetta and chorizo. These were a real bonus as they had a long shelf-life, being cured and vacuum-packed.
They also stocked-up on many less-essential items that would nourish their spirits, if not their stomachs! They loaded boxes of red wine, whisky, cognac and brandy into the trucks alongside the more mundane food items, and were lucky to find a few boxes of candles and tea-lights that would be useful. Jamie was pleased to find several boxes of his favourite tobacco, too. They drove home and unloaded everything between the two houses. Max barked enthusiastically when they entered, and Jane gave him some dog biscuits and treats from the larder. By the time they had finished all the cupboards and larders in both kitchens were full, and food was stacked up on the floor of Jane’s lounge and Jamie’s spare bedroom. For the rest of that day Jamie was busy putting up new shelves in the spare bedroom to store food on, and also some in Jane’s lounge. He started one of the generators for the first time to charge some batteries for the power-tools.
On the Monday Jamie made an entrance through the wall between their gardens. He cut down through the brickwork with an angle-grinder and then knocked out the bricks with a hammer and bolster. He had some lengths of 3x2 timber left from his porch construction, so he fixed two pieces across the top on both sides of the wall using long coach bolts, for strengthening.
As the bungalow already had a decent-sized vegetable plot they worked on that first; turning the soil over and sowing seeds for carrots, potatoes, cabbages and parsnips. They left vacant lines between them so they could re-sow more in a few weeks, to stagger the planting. In Jane’s garden large areas of the borders contained only weeds or a few flowers and shrubs, which were easy to remove, replacing them with seeds for root vegetables and various herbs in between, along with more onions. They removed the turf from other areas of both lawns and turned the soil over for sowing mo
re vegetables. It was hard work and they were worn out by the end of each day. The first thing they sowed was salad plants in tubs on the patio and in the conservatory, as they would be quick to grow and yield a large crop all through summer and autumn. They also sowed tomatoes in tubs in the conservatory, as it would act like a greenhouse and provide much warmer conditions.
During that week the change in Max’s condition was amazing and they both felt heartened by that. He always ate well and started putting on weight. His coat began to look glossier as he cleaned himself, and he began walking around the garden; slowly at first, but getting stronger every day, sniffing at everything and following them wherever they went. By Wednesday he could manage a slow trot up the garden when Jane called him, so she decided to take him for a short walk along the promenade to exercise and strengthen his muscles. He was panting by the time they got back and went under the porch to curl up on his blanket, which they’d put outside while they worked.
On the Tuesday they had a nice surprise. Jane was moving into next door, and she carried over the few things that she had at the bungalow. The house had been well aired over the last three days and she’d also lit some scented candles, so it no longer smelled of decomposing corpses. Between them they took the mattress from another double bed and put it onto the bed frame in the rear bedroom. They realised that they hadn’t even looked in the garage when first checking the house on Saturday. They found the keys in the hall, along with two sets of car keys; one marked “BMW” and the other, much older, marked “Ford”. They went out the front and lifted the huge door to the garage, which opened smoothly and almost silently. Jamie’s mouth opened but no sound came out, and Jane looked at him with amusement.
The Hoffmann Plague Page 10
