by Melissa Hill
“Well, maybe the time away from here will do you two a bit of good. Help you get to the bottom of whatever it is that’s bothering you.”
Liz coloured a little. “I know – maybe I am just imagining things. You’re right, we might get the chance to have a proper chat in Belfast over the weekend. Maeve will want to stay at the family home, which means me and Eric will probably have to get a hotel somewhere. The circumstances aren’t ideal, but at least I might get the chance to find out why he’s been acting so strange lately.”
“Exactly,” Tara said, pleased that her friend’s spirits had lifted a little. “And I guarantee things will seem much better after that, Liz, and you’ll come home feeling silly for even thinking those things about Eric.”
The following Friday afternoon, Tara was sorely regretting her generous offer.
That was it! she told herself, panting. No way. No way was she ever giving in to Glenn’s pleas and getting one of these things. No bloody way!
They were rough, smelly, thick as a ditch – totally at the other end of the spectrum compared to soft, cuddly, intelligent and clean cats. She didn’t know how Liz did this for a living!
“Are you sure you don’t mind looking after the place for us?” Liz had asked for the umpteenth time, before she and Eric left for Belfast earlier that morning.
“We’ll be fine,” she’d told her, shooing her out to the car. “And if I get into any trouble – which I won’t,” she added quickly, when Liz looked worried, “I can always call on Dad.”
“Right, well, you have the number of the hotel we’re staying at, and of course you have my mobile too.”
“Yes, I have. Now go!”
Understandably, Eric had been very quiet when she arrived at the house. Probably eager to get going, Tara mused.
As predicted, Glenn hadn’t been too upset that she’d be out of the house for a night or two, although he offered to come down after work on Saturday afternoon to help with the dogs.
But Tara wasn’t convinced she’d need his help at all. In fact, she was looking forward to spending some time in the little village; it might help her decide whether or not she wanted to move back there for good.
But right then, Tara was sorely regretting her enthusiastic offer. As per Liz’s instructions, she was taking the dogs for their afternoon walk, and one of them, a huge brute of a thing called Bruno (and the most hyper and unruly animal Tara had ever come across), was practically dragging her across the fields behind Liz’s house. And these two little rat-like terriers who hadn’t a hope of keeping up with the bigger dog, but insisted on trying, kept getting their leads entwined around Tara’s feet and tripping her up. It was bloody annoying and quite dangerous given that she was carrying little Toby in his harness – as Liz usually did. But judging from his excited giggles, the little boy was thoroughly enjoying his outing, and Tara couldn’t help but wonder if his mother knew some kind of calming command that she didn’t, something that could slow the bastards down.
Then, out of nowhere, Bruno took off at a hare’s pace, dragging Tara and the others along behind him. She groaned.
“Bruno! Come back!” she called breathlessly, as the little rats started yapping in annoying unison.
Just then Toby squealed excitedly, and as Tara spotted a small rabbit hopping some way in front of them, she understood why Bruno had taken off like one the hounds of hell. Bloody rabbits!
By the time she and her motley crew returned home an hour later – the dogs still hyper and excited and not in the least bit tired after her strenuous efforts, Tara never wanted to see another animal again. At least Liz’s two, Ben and Jerry, were able to run around the place of their own accord, and she didn’t have to walk them too. Thank goodness for small mercies and big backyards!
But it seemed there was no let-up with the boarders. Liz had instructed that Tara should take each dog out of their holding-pen to do their business an hour or so after feeding.
And while the rats seemed perfectly happy to do her bidding, the huge mutt seemed to treat the whole thing as some big game, and instead of obediently doing his thing in Liz’s prescribed “area” in the yard, began to merrily lead Tara in circles around the back garden. Tara swore the dog knew she hadn’t a clue what she was doing and was acting up on purpose just to annoy her.
Honest to God, Toby was a saint to look after compared to this fella, she thought, trying in vain to steer him towards the yard. Then, the savage somehow got it into his head that he’d rather drop his load in the garden of the next house! At that stage, Tara was sick to the back teeth of his antics, it was beginning to get dark and she didn’t have the inclination or the energy to stop him from going outside the boundaries. Not that there were actually any boundaries between Liz’s garden and the adjoining grounds. The old cottage had been vacant for years and the “garden” was overrun with weeds, so as far as she was concerned Bruno could do what he liked.
In fact, she might suggest to Liz upon her return that she use the overgrown garden for this purpose, rather than have to shovel up the stink from her own backyard. Tara’s stomach turned as she thought about cleaning up after the dogs – especially this one! No, it was just as well that Bruno had taken a fancy to this particular spot – at least that would be one less load to deal with.
Holding Bruno by the lead, she turned her head away, as the dog squatted bang-slap in the middle of the garden.
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” an angry voice cried, and Tara nearly jumped ten foot in the air with fright.
She looked around to see a tall, well-built and very annoyed-looking man coming out of the supposedly abandoned house. Yikes! Liz hadn’t mentioned that the house had been sold – or that the Incredible Hulk had bought it!
“Oh, my goodness – I’m so sorry,” Tara began breathlessly, her cheeks reddening, as she quickly yanked Bruno towards her, the dog still in mid-effort. “I didn’t realise anyone lived –”
“Oh, so it’s OK for your bloody dog to mess up the place, just because there’s nobody here?” the man retorted in disbelief.
“No . . . I mean . . . well, he’s not actually mine,” Tara spluttered, mortified that she’d been caught out in such a manner. She’d strangle that dog when she got him home! “And no, I don’t think it’s OK, but he was determined to do it here, and I’m really sorry.”
“Well, I suppose I’ll let you away with it this time.”
Tara watched in surprise as the man bent down and rubbed Bruno behind the ears. She didn’t think she had ever seen a man so huge. With his broad shoulders and thick muscled arms, the guy looked like a pro-wrestler.
“He’s gorgeous, aren’t you, lad?” he said. “Despite the fact that your mammy is happy to let you make a mess of my lovely garden!”
Despite herself, Tara was annoyed. “Well, he’s such a pain in the backside that I didn’t have much choice in the matter!” she said, putting a hand on her hip. “And as I told you before, I’m not his bloody mammy!”
“He’s not yours?”
“Certainly not,” Tara replied, thinking that she wouldn’t wish Bruno on anyone, yet slightly miffed that a perfect stranger could so easily calm the errant mutt. “I’m looking after him for a friend, who usually looks after him for . . .” she sighed. “Look, it’s a long story and I’m sure you don’t want to hear it. Let me just say that I’m really very sorry about your – um, garden,” she gave the weeds a sideways glance. “I’m sure you worked very hard to get it that way.”
“I quite like the natural look, actually,” the man replied in an amused tone. “And isn’t she very bold, calling you a pain in the backside?” He said this to Bruno, who was now the picture of well-behaved innocence.
“If only you knew,” Tara said, rolling her eyes. “But look, I’d better get back – my friend’s son is having a nap, and I don’t want to leave him too long on his own.”
“Oh, you’re a friend of Liz’s then?”
Tara looked at him. So he did
know Liz – which meant that her friend must have known that the house had been recently sold but hadn’t mentioned it. Pity that she hadn’t – then Tara wouldn’t have dreamed of allowing Bruno near the place!
“I bought this place a few weeks back,” he told Tara, “and I met her a couple of times since. She was a little worried about the kennels being so close to the house and hoped the barking wouldn’t disturb me.” He grinned widely. “But I grew up on a farm, so noisy animals are par for the course for me.”
“Well, rather you than me. Bruno here has got a bark that would break the sound barrier. But look, I am really sorry about your garden.”
“Don’t worry about it – if I’d known you were a friend of Liz’s I wouldn’t have shouted at you like that. I just thought you were some passer-by taking advantage. The fields behind seem to be used quite a bit by ramblers and dog-walkers, and because I haven’t yet got round to putting up a fence, they tend to wander in.”
Well, Tara thought, deciding that Liz McGrath was a very dark horse indeed. With all her worries about Eric, she had neglected to mention that she had a new and (if you liked the meat-head look) quite good-looking neighbour.
“You don’t need to apologise,” she replied, feeling slightly flustered in his company. He was just so . . . big! “It was my own fault for letting him get the better of me. But I really should get back to Toby. It was nice meeting you.”
“You too,” he replied easily, “and say hello to Liz for me, won’t you?”
“I will,” Tara answered, but it was only after Bruno had dragged her back to Liz’s house that she realised she didn’t know his name.
Chapter 14
“Oh, that was Luke!” Liz told her on the phone the following morning, when Tara mentioned the encounter. “He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?”
Well, Tara wouldn’t say that exactly. Yes, she supposed there was something attractive about those muscled, hardy-looking, outdoorsy types, but brawn had never been her thing. No, Tara had always been attracted to dark, brooding, creative types and wouldn’t normally look twice at someone like that.
“I was too embarrassed to take any notice,” she told Liz breezily. “I really wish you’d told me there was somebody living there, though. The place looks just as abandoned as it was when I was growing up, so I’d no idea –”
“To be honest,I’d no idea he’d be moving in so soon,” her friend replied. “He’s abroad a lot – I think he works in different countries out on oil rigs or that type of thing. Last time I bumped into him, he said he had a long stint coming up and wouldn’t be back until after Christmas. That was just after he bought the house.”
“Well, he’s definitely here now,” Tara said with a sigh, “and Bruno gave him a lovely welcome.”
“Didn’t I tell you to be firm with that fella? Otherwise he’d walk all over you.”
“Tell me about it,” Tara groaned.
“Listen, I’d better go – Eric and I are just heading over to the house now. Will you give Toby my love and tell him Mummy and Daddy were asking for him?”
“Of course, I will.” Tara rolled her eyes good-naturedly. This was the third time Liz had asked her to pass on such a message to Toby.
“And thanks again for looking after him – I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. How’s it all going there anyway? Did you two get any time on your own?” Then she added, “Or can’t you say anything at the moment?”
“Not really,” her friend replied quietly, and Tara understood that Eric must be in the room with her. She really hoped that, despite the circumstances, some good might come out of their time away.
“Well then, say hi to Eric and Maeve for me, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow afternoon.”
“You too. And tell Toby I –”
“Yes, Liz – I’ll tell Toby you and his daddy were asking for him. Take care.”
Smiling, Tara replaced the cordless phone in the receiver and went back into the living room where Toby was playing happily on the floor with his toys.
She checked the clock on the mantelpiece and groaned. It was almost eleven – time to bring those mental-cases for another trek in the fields. Tara almost felt as though she were preparing herself for battle as she fetched their leads and went to let them out of their kennels, the dogs leaping about excitedly upon her approach.
An hour or so later, she, Toby and the dogs returned to the house. The animals had been much better behaved this morning, or perhaps she was getting better at handling them, she wasn’t sure. Then, as soon as they were all safely inside their kennels, she went inside and began preparing Toby’s lunch.
“This is quite good fun, isn’t it, Toby?” she said, as she rummaged through the fridge for something to make, Toby sitting quietly in his highchair as he watched her move around. He was a dream to look after, really, she thought, deciding that while he was the image of his father, he had definitely been blessed with Liz’s temperament. Her friend was so calm, so docile and unassuming, which were mostly lovely traits but could often work to her own detriment. She had urged Liz to use this weekend to find out what exactly was going wrong in her marriage, but she doubted very much that her friend would confront Eric. Liz hated confrontation and –
Hearing a loud roar from outside, Tara stopped short. Blast it – was one of the dogs due to leave today? No, that couldn’t be it, and even if that was the case, it was highly unlikely the dog’s owner would be shouting his head off outside the door, wasn’t it?
Then, she thought of something. Oh, God, had one of the animals escaped from its pen – maybe got out and bit someone?
Tara rushed to the back door. “Stay right there,” she told Toby, although there was little chance of the baby going anywhere strapped like that into his high chair. “Aunty Tara has to go outside and check on the doggies, OK?”
Toby giggled and clapped his hands excitedly at the mention of the word “doggies”, no doubt thinking he was due another outing in the fields. Fat chance of that, she thought wryly.
Going outside, Tara headed straight for the kennels, Ben and Jerry circling around her feet. As she drew closer, she saw that littles and large were still in their individual holding pens and, amazingly, all three were fast asleep. Thank God for that!
She turned away and was just about to go back inside the house when she heard someone curse loudly.
“Stupid friggin’ things!” a man’s voice hissed.
Following the direction from which the voice had come, Tara went towards the adjoining house. As she did, she spotted muscleman Luke standing outside his own back door, his face red and his fists clenched tightly.
“Is everything OK?” Tara called across to him. “I heard someone shout.”
“Everything’s fine,” he replied, through gritted teeth. “I just have a couple of unwelcome visitors.”
“Oh.” Someone must have dropped by unannounced, she decided. Her own mother hated that too, hated people calling to visit when the house was in a state, so in a way she understood how he felt. Still, the cottage hadn’t been lived in for years and was bound to be less than perfect, and it seemed a bit rude of Luke to go running out of the house screaming about it.
“Do you think you could get rid of them?” Tara heard him ask then, his tone softer and a little hesitant.
“Excuse me?”
“I mean, do they bother you? Are you afraid of them?”
“Well,” Tara wasn’t sure how to answer that. Why the hell would people visiting his house bother her? “I’m not sure if . . .”
“I hate the little fuckers, always have. It’s embarrassing but . . .”
Oh, now Tara got it. Whoever his guests were, they must have brought children with them, and evidently Luke wasn’t a fan – to say the least. Glenn could be a bit like that too and would often run a mile whenever Liz or any of her other friends brought their offspring to their house. Though if Glenn were to express himself in such a horribly violent way, she would have something to say about
it. In such an unbalanced way . . . Tara began to feel a bit nervous. Was he quite sane?
And how he expected Tara to deal with these people on his behalf when she didn’t even know him was beyond her . . .
“I think they’re under the sink,” he added then, confirming for Tara that he really wasn’t the full shilling.
Under the sink?
“I opened the door, and two of them ran straight out,” he informed her, grimacing. “One of them ran right over my hand! Jesus, I can still see his bloody tail!”
Tail? But right then it hit her and she understood exactly who, or rather what, had paid Luke a visit. She tried to smother a laugh.
“Mice?” she clarified, her eyes widening in mirth. “You’re afraid of tiny, harmless, little mice?”
Luke’s expression paled at the mention of the word. “Rub it in, why don’t you? I know the place is old, but I thought it was so old that the little fuckers wouldn’t be bothered with it.” He shook his head. “There could be hundreds in there for all I know.”
“Oh, for goodness sake!” Tara was still struggling to keep a straight face. “Imagine someone your size being afraid of a tiny, harmless little animal like that!”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I can’t help it, OK? It’s just something that’s in me and I can’t help it. Some people are afraid of heights, others of spiders. Me, I’m afraid of mice.”
He said this in such a way that Tara knew it was killing him to have to admit it, especially in front of a woman.
“So do you think you could . . . you know . . . go in and take a look around? See where they went?”
Tara was laughing openly now, but felt almost guilty when she saw his petrified expression. This really was killing him. “OK, then. But let me get Toby first – I left him inside on his own when I came outside to investigate all the noise you were making.”
Luke looked sheepish and, still smiling, Tara quickly went back inside to Toby, who was chattering happily away to himself and totally out of harm’s way.
