Sunshine and Spaniels

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘There isn’t a problem,’ Cat said. ‘I found Emma and Lizzie in the park with Olaf, and I thought…’

  The other woman folded her arms. ‘You thought what? That they shouldn’t have been out without their mum? I told them not to leave the terrace, but there was some bloody dogs event in the park. I don’t need you – or anyone else – telling me how to do things.’

  ‘I’m not, I promise.’ Cat glanced up the street, hoping to see Polly’s instantly likeable face, but for the moment Primrose Terrace was quiet. ‘I wanted to say hello. I moved into the street at the beginning of the year, and I can’t believe we’ve not met properly yet. Also, it sounds like it’s partly my fault. I put on the event in the park, for dogs and their owners.’

  ‘Great, brilliant. Thanks for that. I don’t have time for a neighbourly chat, I need to see to Henry.’ She stepped back and moved to close the door, but Cat put her hand out.

  ‘Look – can I ask your name?’

  ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Please. They were so worried they’d upset you. I think they were trying to help.’

  ‘What would you know? Girls,’ she called, turning away, ‘wash your hands. Now. No complaints.’ She faced Cat again. ‘Look, Cat, is it?’

  Cat nodded.

  ‘Thanks for bringing them back, but I need to get on.’

  ‘It’s just that—’ Cat stopped, wondering how to broach the subject.

  The girls’ mother eyed her suspiciously. ‘What?’

  ‘Lizzie and Emma might have mentioned that…that you could do with some help.’

  The young woman’s eyes widened. ‘They what?’

  ‘The thing is,’ Cat hurried, ‘I run a dog-walking business now, and this event that Lizzie noticed – well, she mentioned that sometimes, with the baby, it’s hard for you to get out. With Olaf. Hard for you to all have time together.’ She swallowed and crossed her fingers behind her back. This had potentially been another of her Worst Ideas Ever, and she didn’t want to patronize the woman or make her feel that she was a bad mother. She didn’t want to get the girls in trouble either.

  The young woman looked at her for so long that Cat thought she might have somehow become invisible, but then she pushed the door open wider, and Cat could see the hallway beyond. ‘They said that, did they? About spending time together?’

  Cat nodded.

  The girls’ mother rubbed her eyes and gave a tiny shake of her head. ‘I’m Frankie,’ she said quietly. ‘They shouldn’t have done that, gone to the park. They know the rules.’ She gestured for Cat to come in.

  ‘They’re back though,’ Cat said, ‘and they’re fine.’

  ‘It’s bloody hard at the moment, with Henry and my shifts at the restaurant. My two girls are basically sorting themselves out, and I know it’s not fair – they’re still so young.’

  She led the way into the living room, which was similar to the one at number nine, except that everything was bright, a myriad of colours. The sofas were red, the distressed wooden coffee tables dark purple, and the white walls were barely visible, covered in kids’ drawings, chains of seashells, a living scrapbook of Frankie and her family. Toys, magazines and clothes in various sizes covered every surface, a pale pink gauze hung across the doorway into the kitchen, and the threadbare carpet was hidden beneath a round, rainbow-swirl rug. It wasn’t tidy, but it was vibrant and full of life.

  ‘It’s not conventional,’ Frankie said, ‘but so what? The kids love it.’

  ‘I love it.’ Cat took a step towards the wall and ran her finger gently across a snail made out of pasta. She felt a lump form in her throat as she realized how long it had been since she had rolled her sleeves up and covered things in paint, or glue, or Play-Doh. ‘I miss working at the nursery.’

  Frankie sat on the arm of the sofa and glanced at Lizzie, who was holding her baby brother. He was gurgling quietly, podgy hands reaching up towards the ceiling. Emma was in a dog basket in the corner of the room, Olaf climbing all over her. Both girls had fresh tear stains marking their cheeks.

  ‘Emma said you were the only one who ever bothered with those kids. She’s gutted you’ve gone. Right, Emma?’ Frankie got up and ruffled her daughter’s hair, then kissed her forehead.

  ‘I loved your puppy,’ Emma whispered. She squeezed Olaf against her, and the cocker spaniel started barking.

  ‘Quiet, Olaf,’ Frankie hissed. ‘You’ll make Henry cry.’ The dog kept barking and Frankie looked despairingly at Cat, her hands scrunched into fists against her cheeks. ‘Give him to me, love,’ she said to Lizzie, but Lizzie shook her head.

  ‘I’ll take him upstairs,’ she whispered, and hurried from the room cradling Henry.

  Frankie sank back against the sofa. ‘She’s a good girl. Too good, in lots of ways. She shouldn’t be taking on so much responsibility, and she shouldn’t be asking strangers for help, but she sees I can’t do it all on my own. It should be easier than this, shouldn’t it? Do you want a cuppa?’

  ‘No, I’m fine, thanks,’ Cat said, clearing a space on the corner of one sofa. ‘You know, I can help, with my dog-walking business.’

  ‘As in, you take dogs for walks? How is that a business?’

  Cat laughed and leant forward. ‘Lots of people don’t have time to walk their dogs as regularly as they want to, or things just get in the way. My friend Elsie, she’s had a knee operation so she can’t take her dogs for long distances. Mark up the road has to go to London at quite short notice, and some people work a lot. If you don’t always want to leave it to Lizzie and Emma, then I could take Olaf out.’

  ‘But you charge, right? You don’t get sponsorship? It’s a business.’

  Cat nodded. She was sure that Frankie wouldn’t want charity. ‘But my rates are competitive and I – I just think I can help. You say you’ve got to work too?’

  ‘Yeah, at Spatz. This little restaurant, supposed to be all ethical and Fairtrade. And I’m coping. Well, as best I can –’ she indicated the colourful but haphazard living room – ‘but they won’t let me drop my hours, and when the summer holidays come round…It’s not turning out to be the peachy job I thought it would be. I could get a zero-hours contract at the supermarket, but how would that be better? I don’t need the stress or uncertainty, and I could end up with no work at all.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you on your own?’ Cat said it quietly, and watched as Frankie tensed and turned away from her.

  ‘Yeah, and believe me, it’s better. It may not seem it, but I promise you, things would be even more difficult. He – Rick, Emma and Henry’s dad – did his best, I know that. Olaf was a present from one of his band mates, and the girls adore him, but Rick had no idea about how expensive having a dog would be, how much trouble, how he’d have to be trained, and walked, and neutered.

  ‘And that was Rick all over. Great, creative ideas, but didn’t really think things through. He was more bothered about his band and his friends and his next road trip. In the end he chose that over us. Said he’d come back and see them –’ Frankie glanced at Emma and lowered her voice – ‘but that was in February. Brought home the puppy and then took off. He’s not even that far away – went to stay with some friends in Brighton, last I heard.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Cat whispered. ‘And Lizzie’s dad?’

  Frankie smiled and dipped her eyes. ‘Lizzie’s dad was the greatest guy I’ve ever met, gorgeous and funny, and he’d probably be a great dad too, but I met him at a festival and after that night, well…’ She shrugged. ‘If I could find him again – but I never thought…’ She tightened her ponytail. ‘Not very conventional, is it? But it doesn’t mean I don’t care about my family. It doesn’t mean I don’t want the best for them.’ Frankie stood and started picking up toys and clothes, cups and banana skins, sweeping them into boxes or the bin.

  Cat stood, unsure what to do. ‘Of course it doesn’t,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your partner, and I know it’s only a small thing, but le
t me walk Olaf. We’ll do a couple of trial runs free of charge and then if it works out, if it makes things even a little easier, we can do something more permanent. And Frankie, I –’ she waited for the young mother to look at her – ‘I know we don’t know each other, not really, but we’re on the same street and if there’s anything else I can do…Neighbours help each other out, don’t they?’ She risked a smile, conscious of how she’d waltzed in and offered to make everything better, offered what could potentially be a lot of empty promises.

  Frankie picked up a large cuddly seal. She clasped it against her chest, and sank her chin into the top of its soft head. ‘You help out all your neighbours? Not just me?’

  Cat nodded. ‘I tried to do a lot for Elsie when she had her knee operation. I walk Jessica’s dogs, and I’m looking after Mark’s. Some of it’s my job now, but not all of it.’

  ‘Let’s start with Olaf,’ Frankie said. ‘I appreciate that you took the trouble to come and see me, and having Olaf for a couple of hours, maybe Monday when the girls are back at school and nursery, would be a help. But let me do something for you. I don’t know what yet, I’ll think about it.’

  ‘OK,’ Cat said, unable to hide her grin. ‘That sounds great. And Olaf is adorable. I’m sure he’d get on with Disco.’

  ‘The puppy?’ Emma asked. She was lying on her back, Olaf standing on top of her, licking her forehead and ears.

  ‘She’s grown up a bit now, like Olaf, but she’s still very bouncy.’

  ‘I’d like to come,’ Emma said matter-of-factly. ‘With all the dogs.’

  ‘No, Emma,’ Frankie said. ‘It’s Cat’s job. She’s got to be very serious about it, like you are with your colouring in, remember?’

  ‘I remember,’ Emma said, ‘but I’d be serious about the dogs. I’d try hard.’

  Frankie exhaled loudly. ‘Let me think about it, and if, after a while –’ she looked at Cat and Cat nodded – ‘it’s going well, maybe you could tag along. At the weekends, mind.’

  ‘That’s all I’m asking for,’ Emma said haughtily, and Cat had to turn her laughter into a cough.

  ‘Yeah for now,’ Frankie whispered so only Cat could hear, but she was smiling. ‘Come on, Emma, get out of that basket and let’s give Olaf his lunch. Then I might think about making you some. Salad sandwiches all right?’

  ‘Eeewwww.’ Emma screwed up her nose.

  ‘How about some of Henry’s puree?’

  ‘No, Mum!’

  ‘Come and help me make it then, and I’ll see if we can find something a bit more exciting.’ She walked Cat to the door. ‘Thanks for coming.’

  ‘It was my pleasure,’ Cat said, ‘and I’ll see you on Monday.’

  Once Frankie had shut the door Cat strolled home, hoping that, while she’d gained a new client for Pooch Promenade, she’d also, more importantly, made a new friend.

  ‘I couldn’t find Chips’s dog food,’ Polly called from the front room.

  Cat stuck her head round the door. ‘I thought I left it out?’

  Polly looked up, her cheeks red. ‘I didn’t look very hard. It felt…weird, being in there. Amongst all Mark’s things.’

  ‘Why?’ Cat asked. She found it nothing short of delightful, being given the key and trusted with his whole house. She had resisted her curiosity and limited her forays to the hall and kitchen, but just the idea of being there, looking after his dog, was enough.

  She liked Mark, she hoped things might happen between them, and she didn’t want to risk that for a peek in his bedroom. Besides, how could she build her reputation as a professional dog walker, picking up pets when the owners were out, if she became known as a snooper? Alison was wrong about her not being trustworthy.

  ‘I was so tempted to look around,’ Polly said, clearly shocked at her own human instincts. Cat’s best friend was not the most rebellious person. ‘I had to leave.’

  Cat grinned. ‘I’m proud of you, Polly. Embrace your curiosity.’

  ‘No, I’m not going to! Can you go and feed Chips, please? She looked heartbroken when I left.’

  ‘Probably because she’s starving.’ Polly handed her the key, and Cat made the short, sunny walk to number four.

  She stepped into his hallway, which was empty apart from a winter coat hanging on a hook, leaving the door on the latch. This house had a semicircular panel of stained-glass above the front door, and it made a pattern of light on the carpet, like the boiled-sweet biscuits Cat remembered making as a child. Chips came padding down the corridor and nuzzled her nose against Cat’s knees, whimpering softly.

  ‘Come on then, let’s get you some lunch.’ Chips led the way to the sparse kitchen. It had black granite countertops and plain white cupboards, lots of sharp lines and monochrome. Cat didn’t know who Mark had rented the house from, but it screamed Bachelor Pad. She refilled Chips’s water bowl and gave her some dried food. There was a spread of papers over one of the worktops. Cat walked past them, averting her eyes, and to the back door.

  The gardens along Primrose Terrace – except perhaps Jessica’s – were tiny, brick-walled courtyards, and Mark’s looked as though it hadn’t seen any love in years. Weeds crept up through the cracks in the paving slabs, and unruly ivy trailed down from next door. There was a wooden table that had been left out for too many winters, and a broken bird table.

  ‘This isn’t great, is it?’

  Chips looked up, then went back to her food.

  ‘Still, when you’ve got the park and the beach, what does it matter? And he’s not been here very long yet, has he? We’ll give him time. Do you want to go out there?’ She unlocked the back door and Chips followed her into the courtyard. It had been absorbing heat all day, and was a stark contrast to the cool kitchen. Chips trotted round the edge of the square, showing little interest in the dirt and scrubby plants that remained, and went back inside. Cat was about to follow when she saw a large ginger lump trotting round the top of the wall. Shed.

  ‘Hey,’ she called, but Shed shot her a blazing look and continued on his journey. Cat couldn’t believe that Shed would voluntarily go out in the sun – he was the laziest cat she’d ever met, but perhaps that didn’t mean much. Cats could be quite secretive, so maybe Shed’s lazy persona was disguising other activities. She would have to watch him closely.

  She rinsed Chips’s empty bowl, her gaze falling on the fridge. A scrap of paper beneath a black magnet said, Leave D. food out for Cat and she smiled, seeing her name pinned to Mark’s fridge. Next to it, a photo was half hidden beneath a magnet shaped like a clapperboard. Cat moved the magnet.

  The photo was of a woman sitting on a wall in front of a Mediterranean-blue sea, long dark hair flying, a smile on her glossy lips. She was wearing sunglasses, and Cat was frustrated that she couldn’t get a sense of the woman’s personality, but she looked glamorous. It could be anyone – a sister, friend, an ex. Cat hoped she wasn’t more than an ex.

  She put the magnet back, and was drying Chips’s bowl when she heard the front door bang. She smiled, and called to her friend. ‘Decided to come in after all, did you?’

  Chips barked and raced down the hall.

  ‘I thought it was probably better than staying in the car.’

  Cat dropped the bowl onto the draining board and spun round. Mark stood just inside the kitchen in a navy T-shirt and jeans, sunglasses perched on his head. His cheeks were flushed, his dark eyes alive with their usual amusement.

  ‘I was giving Chips her lunch,’ Cat said quickly, running her hand through her hair. She dropped the tea towel on the floor, bent and picked it up.

  ‘I can see that. You are allowed to say hello, you know.’ He grinned, calm in the face of her awkwardness.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi. I didn’t mean to surprise you, but things finished early. This weather’s only nice in London if you’re sitting outside with a cold pint, and the thought of Fairview, with its fresh air and its various attractions, not to mention Chips…’ Chips was superglued to Mark’s
side, looking up at him with adoration. ‘It was too hard to resist.’

  ‘It’s lovely to see you,’ Cat said. Mark’s grin got wider, and Cat felt her cheeks flush. ‘Did things go well in London?’

  Mark tipped his head, considering. ‘Not too bad. Better than expected, in fact. I was meant to have another meeting this afternoon but it got cancelled. Saturday meetings are never that productive, so I’m not too disappointed.’

  ‘But you’ve found someone to make your film?’

  ‘Could be. It’s not confirmed yet, but…’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me. It must be nerve-racking, waiting.’

  ‘You just have to distract yourself with other things.’ He gave Cat a slow, gentle smile that was hotter than the weather, and her mouth went dry. ‘Chips been OK? I’ve never left her overnight before, but she seems perky enough.’

  ‘Oh, she’s been fine. I spent lots of time with her last night, and she settled well. We had our Pooches’ and Puppies’ Picnic this morning, and it…it was eventful – and very popular.’

  ‘You’ve got some more dogs to walk?’

  ‘A couple, and lots more people want to be on the mailing list. It was worth doing.’

  ‘You’re on your way to Fairview domination. I’m pleased it went so well. Listen, I’m parched. How about a cold beer in the sunshine?’

  Cat licked her lips. A cold beer. Mark. ‘That sounds lovely, but…’ She glanced behind her at the unappealing courtyard.

  ‘OK, so maybe not there. Come on.’ He took two bottles out of the fridge, opened them and led the way to the front of the house. He opened the door to the street, disappeared into the living room and returned with a blanket, which he spread on the top step with a flourish.

  Cat laughed. ‘A picnic blanket? You think of everything.’

  ‘Of course.’ They sat beside each other and Mark handed her a bottle. They clinked, and Cat took a swig. It was cold and bubbly and refreshing, and seemed to heighten the excitement already fizzing inside her. Chips nudged her way between them and lay on the bottom step, her chin on Mark’s foot.