There. All sorted. No point wallowing in self-pity. She was going to pull herself up by her bootstraps and show mean Jean, as well as PC Mark Evans, that she damn well could fight her own battles. Donna swiped a tear from her cheek and headed determinedly to the kitchen with a plan.
She’d feed Findus and walk Sadie. Then ring the insurance company about her car, which would be another job done. Make her doctor’s appointment. And then, on a better-late-than-never basis, take her-wretched-self off to work.
****
Mark debated whether to try Donna again. No, no point. She wasn’t going to call back. He had lied to her. There was no way around it. Yes, he might have lost her if he had told her. Now, through his own stupidity, he’d lost her anyway. Broken her heart, according to Evelyn. Dammit! When, precisely, had he been planning to tell her about Karl, if he hadn’t had the bottle to tell her when he’d had the perfect opportunity? Instead, he’d confessed to liking rom-coms.
Rom-coms!
Christ, what had he been thinking? Karl should never have been an embarrassing secret he couldn’t admit to. If a woman was going to be put off at the mention of him, then she wasn’t the right woman. But his instincts told him Donna wouldn’t have been. Still he hadn’t said anything. Mark cursed and climbed out of his car, his own heart pretty damn near breaking.
‘Mr Evans, hi,’ a female instructor waved, coming towards him with the Autism Assistance Dog earmarked for Karl. ‘Sally.’ She smiled, extending her hand. ‘And this is Starbuck. He’s a caffeine junkie, so whatever you do, don’t leave yours lying around if you want to drink it.’
Mark smiled. ‘I won’t. I need all the caffeine I can get. Hey, Starbuck.’ He bent to give the animal a fuss. Getting attached to the dog would be no trouble at all. He just prayed that Karl would take to him, too.
Chapter Eight
‘Book Price,’ the person on the insurance helpline informed Donna the amount they’d pay for her car, which meant she’d get half the amount she’d hoped for. And she’d have to send them photographs of the deceased vehicle along with the accident report before they’d process her claim.
‘How ridiculous,’ she told Sadie, plopping the phone down and heading back to the kitchen. ‘I mean, honestly, what am I supposed to put in the report? I ran into a fire coming in the other direction?’
And what was she supposed to do meanwhile? Use public transport, she supposed, seated next to the local loony, no doubt. On the bright side, she couldn’t fail to lose a few pounds walking to the bus stop. Not that she had reason to lose weight now that her new lacy bra and panty set would never see the light of day.
She sighed, relieved Findus of a stray trainer he was chomping and exchanged it for cucumber, then fetched a dish and Sadie’s dog food from the cupboard. Still sighing, she spooned the food into the dish, then offered Matt a weak smile as he bopped into the kitchen in time to Smile Like You Mean It playing appropriately on the radio.
‘Oh.’ Matt stopped mid-bop and arched a pierced eyebrow. ‘I take it you and your policeman friend had a lover’s disagreement?’
‘No.’ Donna didn’t quite lie. ‘Why?’
‘You’re sighing a lot as star-crossed lovers do.’ Matt sloped over to the working surface to eye the breakfast offerings dubiously. ‘And you’re about to eat dog food.’
‘Ho, ho. Guess who’s reading Shakespeare at college.’ Donna removed the offending bowl from under his clever-clogs nose and offered it to Sadie.
Matt rolled his eyes and headed for the fridge. ‘So you going to kiss and make up, or what?’
‘What.’ Donna opted for the latter.
‘Shame. He was kind of cool,’ Matt commented, emerging from the fridge with the entire meagre contents therein: one floppy sausage.
‘Yes, well, you kiss him, if you like, but I’m not.’ Donna relieved him of the sad sausage in order to cook it, before he went begging the neighbours for food. ‘He’s been… Let’s just say he’s been less than truthful.’ She shoved the sausage under the grill pan.
‘Uh-uh.’ Matt shook his head, fetched two slices of bread, and placed them reverently on a plate, awaiting his sausage. ‘Your gay friend, Simon, might go for a snog with your boyfriend, but dis bruvver…’
Oh, no. Donna cringed as Matt stood on one leg, a finger pointed and poised on rap moment.
‘… he da woman luvver. Ain’t into no uvver.’ Matt twirled — and pointed. ‘Check it.’
Donna looked at him, bemused. ‘Ye-es, and which woman would this be pray?’
‘I’m working on it.’ Matt adopted his more usual droop as he came across to where Donna stood by the cooker. ‘Um, Mother,’ he said after a moment standing side-by-side with her staring at the grill, ‘I don’t want to diss your parenting skills, but it works better when you switch it on, yes?’
He twiddled the knob.
Donna clipped his ear.
****
‘By Jove, I think I’m getting it.’ Mark tickled Starbuck’s ear, then straightened up to smile at Sally, who seemed to be turning him into a reasonably competent dog handler.
God willing, she’d do an equally competent job during phase two of the assistance dog course, where Karl and he would take the dog out in public. Once Karl had been acquainted with him, that was, and assuming Karl took to him.
‘So now I’ve mastered the basics and found out which way the dog’s facing, what’s next?’
‘Well, you’ve done really well so far, hasn’t he, Starbuck?’ Sally gave the obliging Labrador a pat. ‘I thought I’d try you out with the longer lead next. We shouldn’t need to do too much more after that, before bringing Karl in on things. You’ve made a great impression on Starbuck, and that’s half the battle.’
Sally glanced down to where the dog sat at Mark’s feet, tongue lolling. ‘Looks like he’s yours for life.’
‘Let’s hope he feels the same about Karl,’ Mark said hopefully. ‘So the sit and stay command, I thought we did that earlier.’
‘That was stop and sit,’ Sally corrected him, positioning Starbuck in front of him and handing Mark the lead. ‘The idea being that when the dog stops, the child does, too, thereby giving the parent time to assess a situation, perhaps people might be coming towards you, or Karl might be getting too far ahead.’
‘Got it.’ Mark nodded, stepping back away from Starbuck as Sally motioned him.
‘The sit and stay command will give you more time. Starbuck will stay until you instruct him to walk on. If you need to cross a road, for instance, or pay at the supermarket checkout, that sort of thing. Could you step back a little further please, Mr Evans?’
‘Mark,’ Mark offered. ‘If you’re going to be almost part of the family for a while, we might as well be less formal, yes?’
‘Mark,’ Sally repeated, with a smile, ‘could you allow Starbuck the full length of his lead, please?’
Mark did as instructed.
‘Great. That way you’ll be able to see clearly how things are whilst giving your son a degree of independence. He’ll be to the dog’s side.’ Sally positioned herself thus. ‘He’ll have the shorter lead attached to the dog’s harness. And the tether,’ she clipped a small strap from a loop on her belt, also to the dog’s harness, ‘will be attached from Karl to Starbuck, like so.’
She turned, apparently to gauge his reaction. ‘You look relieved.’ She gauged correctly.
‘I am,’ Mark assured her. ‘It looks a lot less scary than I thought it would be.’
‘Nothing to be scared about. Assistance dogs can vastly improve the quality of an autistic child’s life, and thereby that of the parents or carers. As well as allowing them some independence, they provide companionship, unconditional love, a source of comfort and consistency when environments change and anxiety might be high. We’ve had reports of children’s social awareness improving, of tantrums becoming less frequent. The benefits are huge. You’re here because you care enough to want to improve your son’s quality of life, Mark. And
you’re doing a fantastic job, really.’
‘Thanks.’ Mark smiled, wishing he could do half as decent a job on the relationship front.
****
‘Donna!’ Simon dashed towards her, as she finally dragged herself into the office. ‘Where on earth have you been? My God, you look absolutely exhausted. What’s wrong?’ he asked, wrapping an arm around her.
‘Thank you, Simon.’ Donna smiled wanly, immediately feeling baggy-eyed and haggard. ‘Nothing’s wrong, not really. I’m just feeling a bit… you know, down.’
Simon bent his head to scan her eyes at close quarters. ‘Oh, dear, come on…’ He propelled her towards her desk, somewhere behind the mountain of post, which it was her duty to sort and distribute. ‘… sit down, while I make us a nice cuppa and then you can tell me all about it.’
‘Afternoon, Donna.’ Jean paused in planning her frenetic social life on the phone to greet her pointedly. ‘Crisis on the home front?’ she enquired, arching an eyebrow.
‘Just a minor one,’ Donna lied, disinclined to discuss her majorly disastrous life with someone who didn’t give a damn. ‘I would have been in sooner, but I still wasn’t feeling too well. I did leave a message on reception.’
‘Here we go. Get this down you,’ Simon said, coming back with a tray laden with biscuits and a cure-all cup of tea. ‘And take no notice of her.’ He nodded at Jean, who was deep into conversation on the phone re the merits of M&S lingerie. ‘She’s just trying to keep you in your place, because she’s scared witless the CE might find her services dispensable, once he realises she doesn’t actually do anything.’
‘Depends which services you’re talking about.’ Donna took a vicious bite of her chocolate digestive, then got to grips with the million-page report Jean had thoughtfully left on her desk. And there was still the post to sort. It would be tomorrow’s post at this rate.
Donna waited for Jean to disappear to the loo, make-up bag in hand, then seized the opportunity to ring the care home, and ended up talking to the doctor in charge, no less, who seemed really nice.
‘Donna O’Connor, yes of course. You’re at head office, aren’t you? You typed up my Practical Guide for Parents,’ he said, apparently remembering who she was. Not for the typos, Donna hoped.
‘Permanently,’ she answered his question vis-à-vis her location, not very enthusiastically.
He chuckled. ‘I take it you’re not a desk-job sort of person, then?’
‘No.’ Donna smiled at his perceptiveness and went on to explain that what she’d always wanted to do was work with children, ideally in art therapy. That she’d managed the art degree, but never quite got around to the post-grad and childcare courses, having had a child of her own.’
‘Splendid,’ he said, confusing Donna a bit, she had to admit. ‘We’d love to have you volunteer, lunch times, weekends, any time you can manage. And with regard to your future employment plans, we could possibly carve out a niche for you if you don’t mind being daubed in paint and following up those childcare qualifications. Pop over this afternoon. We’ll discuss it.’
‘Righteo,’ Donna said efficiently, and then almost popped with excitement. ‘Yesss!’ She whooped, just as Jean re-appeared from the loo.
‘Must dash, Simon. Dental appointment,’ Jean said, giving him a toothy Clarins-caked smile, then disappearing in a cloud of perfume and pashmina silk scarf. She didn’t say any fond goodbyes to her, Donna noticed.
‘Dental appointment, my eye.’ Simon went across to the window to peer out. ‘And the CE’s going along to hold her hand, I suppose.’
Donna stopped typing and dashed over — to see Jean easing a silken stockinged leg into the passenger seat of the Chief Executive’s BMW. ‘She’ll be doing the holding,’ she muttered. ‘And you can bet your bottom dollar it won’t be his hand.’
‘Oooh, Donna O’Connor… Miaow.’ Simon cat-scratched the air. ‘I am sooo shocked. I didn’t think you had an ounce of bitchiness in you.’
‘You, Simon, are unshockable. And I do, if the occasion demands.’ Donna’s mouth curved into a sweet and ever-so-slightly satisfied smile.
‘Why don’t you ring Matt? Tell him you’re going to be late,’ Simon suggested. ‘We could pop to the wine bar and have a good old natter. What do you say?’
‘Thanks, but not tonight, Simon. I’ve a feeling I might be doing a little online research.’
‘Hmm, researching what one wonders?’ Simon pondered, forefinger to chin.
‘Childcare courses,’ Donna informed him, before his mind ran riot. ‘Um, actually, do you mind if I…’ Donna nodded towards the door, desperate to pop over to the care home just as soon as she could.
Simon held up a silencing hand. ‘Say no more. I’ll square it. I suspect Scarlett and Rhett may be some time, anyhow.’
‘What about that lot?’ Donna nodded towards the leaning tower of post.
‘Leave it to me,’ Simon said, steering her towards the door. ‘I’ll have it sorted in no time. Five minutes and your desk will be cleared, as if by magic.’
Donna glanced at him, unconvinced. ‘Five hours more like.’
Simon waggled his eyebrows. ‘Not to shred it, sweetie.’
Donna blinked at him, aghast. ‘Simon, you can’t! You’ll get sacked.’
‘Do you think?’ Simon looked hopeful. ‘Go on, go. Oh, and if I don’t get a chance to tell you later, my birthday party is a week next Saturday. Fancy dress compulsory and don’t forget to tell your sister. It’s going to be a night to remember.’
‘As if I would forget your birthday.’ Donna looked offended, though she actually had forgotten.
‘Must dash,’ Simon said with exaggerated campiness, tossing an imaginary pashmina over his shoulder as he headed back into the fray. ‘Busy. Busy. Lots of lovely shredding to do. Talk to you later.’
****
‘Hi, Donna. Glad you could make it. The dragon gave you permission to take leave, then?’ the doctor-in-charge asked, with a shrewd smile.
Donna smiled back. She liked him already. ‘Well, not permission, exactly. Jean’s, um, otherwise engaged, so I grabbed the moment. Thanks for seeing me at such short notice.’
‘Ah, so you’re playing truant? Better not let on, then, hey? Peter,’ he introduced himself with a chuckle, then led her through the play-room where children were being coated up to go out to the play area, bar one who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, building up alphabet blocks in columns according to colour, and clearly not as adept at social play as some of the others.
****
Pulling onto her drive later, Donna felt a huge sense of achievement, despite having her eyes opened to the reality of caring for the children. Basically, you did have to care. Really care. It would be exhausting, frustrating; but rewarding, she felt, in helping those children accomplish the little things most people took for granted.
She’d be helping a key worker out next week, painting flash cards. What a brilliant idea, using flash cards to use as visual prompts on trips so the children knew what was going to happen next. Donna had a feeling she was definitely going to enjoy learning alongside them.
She smiled, even though her feet were sore from running around all afternoon, and headed through her front door to give Sadie an extra big hug.
‘Hi, my little doe-eyed beauty.’ She laughed as Sadie hopped up the hall to greet her, her gait that of a horse: front leg, two back legs together, front leg, back… then an enthusiastic boinkity bounce as she jumped up.
‘Aw, Sade, you’re such a good girl.’ Donna held onto her one front paw and had a little bounce with her, then stopped.
‘Uh-oh, telephone, hon.’ She lowered Sadie carefully to floor, knowing it was Mark ringing somehow, without even looking.
‘Donna, hi, it’s me, Mark,’ he said into the answerphone. ‘I assume you’re not back from work yet. I, er… Actually, I’m assuming you don’t want to speak to me.’
‘Okay,’ he went on, after a moment, ‘I understand, Donna. I
don’t blame you. I’ll try to call back some — ‘
Blame her? ‘I should jolly well think not.’ Oh, this was just silly.
She plucked up the phone. ‘Yes?’ she said shortly.
‘Oh, you are there.’ Mark sounded surprised.
‘I seem to be, yes.’ Apart from the heart you stole and then tossed away.
‘Are you all right? I mean… I’ve been a bit concerned, you know?’
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she assured him. ‘Extremely well, actually, thank you.’
‘Good. That’s good,’ he said. ‘I, er, wondered whether we could meet up, possibly?’
Donna didn’t answer. For what, she wondered. An argument? No, thank you.
‘To talk,’ Mark went on. ‘That is, if you’d like to?’
Donna chewed on her lip, prevaricating.
‘I haven’t been quite straight with you, have I?’ Mark filled the silence. ‘I’m sorry, Donna. I…’
‘I gathered, Mark,’ Donna cut in, ‘from you texts.’
He sucked in sharp breath. ‘Sorry,’ he said again. ‘I didn’t mean for you to find out like… Look, Donna, it’s complicated. I swear I didn’t mean to deceive you. Can we meet? Please? I’d like to explain. Try to, anyway.’
Explain? That he had a child he forgot to mention? That he might have been seeing someone? Might be?
‘No, Mark,’ Donna said firmly, though her heart seemed to be folding up inside her. ‘Not being quite straight is lying; and lies hurt. I’ve been there, Mark. I can’t see you again. And forgive me, but I won’t say I’m sorry.’
‘I am, Donna, more than you’ll ever know,’ Mark said quietly. ‘I, er… I’d better go.’
Then there was the dialling tone. And Mark was gone.
****
‘Trust, that’s the problem, Sade,’ Donna chatted on the next morning as she got ready for her doctor’s appointment, Sadie close on her heels. ‘Once it’s broken, it’s broken. You can’t unbreak it any more than you can untell lies, can you, hon?’
Somebody to Love: Sigh With Contentment, Scream With Frustration. At Time You Will Weep. Page 10
