by Matt Dunn
Julie gives herself a theatrical once-over. “Yeah, sure. I’m a real catch. Like the measles.”
“You are.”
“Dad, look at me. I’m thirty-five years old, and my life’s going nowhere. All my friends are getting on with their lives, and I feel like I’m being left behind.”
“You’re hardly...”
“I am. I’ve been stuck living in the same place, working in the same job for the past ten years. My last few boyfriends have run a mile the moment I’ve so much as hinted at making plans for the future.” She does her best to blink away a fresh onslaught of tears. “The only reason Doug probably hangs around is because I feed him.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. Is it, wee man?”
I look up from my bowl, but my mouth’s too full of food for me to respond—something Julie seems to take as a response, because her lower lip starts to tremble.
“And then I meet someone and fall in love against the odds, despite the circumstances, and—unlike all those emotionally stunted boys I went out with before him—he’s someone who actually tells me he feels the same way, but because of those circumstances, since he’s so caring, he can’t... We can’t...”
Julie’s voice trails off, and she seems to run out of steam, which is possibly just as well given the look of discomfort on Julie’s dad’s face. “It’ll all be fine, love,” he says cautiously, like someone entering a booby-trapped house. “Even if things don’t work out with whatshisname, Doug would never let you end up like her next door. For one thing, he’d never let a cat in the house.”
Too flipping right, I think, as Julie stretches out her foot and massages my back with her toes, not strictly a proper petting, but I’m still grateful for the attention.
“What’s he going to do?” she says, miserably. “Find me a boyfriend?”
I freeze. Now there’s an idea.
“Stranger things have happened,” says Julie’s dad, and Julie lets out a short laugh, then her smile fades.
“It’ll work out with me and Luke,” she says, almost to herself. “It has to.” She stares into her mug, and swallows hard. “Because if it doesn’t...”
“Then you’ll meet someone else,” says Julie’s dad, quickly. “Someone...” He glances down at me, but I pretend I’ve got an itch in an impossible-to-reach place. I know what’s coming, and Julie’s not going to like it. “More suitable.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, not already married to someone else would be a start.”
Julie looks like she’s about to argue, but instead, she just slumps further down in her seat. “But I might not,” she says.
Julie’s dad puts his arm around her. “’Course you will, love,” he says, giving her a supportive squeeze.
“You haven’t.”
Julie’s dad’s expression flickers momentarily from its usual, perpetually-sunny one. “I said more suitable. Your mother was... Well, she was pretty much perfect. And once you’ve had perfection...”
“It’s been five years, Dad. Today, in fact,” she adds, with a mournful glance at the calendar on the wall.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“That’s not what I meant. I just want you to be happy.”
“I was happy,” says Julie’s dad. “For a long time.”
“But don’t you want someone special in your life?”
“I’ve got someone special,” says Julie’s dad, giving her another squeeze.
I’ve nearly finished my bowlful by now, so I can give them both my full attention, but neither of them seem keen to make eye contact back. Julie looks like she’s on the verge of crying again, and given how his voice seems to be faltering, her dad’s possibly not far behind her.
“Now, are we done crying here?”
Julie nods.
“Good. In that case, drink your tea,” he continues, mock-sternly. “Before you set me off.”
“Yes, sir!” Julie gives a little salute, then she picks her mug up obediently and takes a sip. “You not having a cup?”
Julie’s dad glances up at the kitchen clock on the wall above the back door. “No. Not here, anyway,” he says. “Me and young Douglas have an appointment.”
“An appointment?”
“That’s right.” Julie’s dad winks at me. “At the café in the park. So why don’t you take your tea and go back to bed, and we’ll see you when we see you? Sound like a plan?”
“It does. Thanks, Dad.” Julie scrapes her chair back, then she stands up and gives him a hug. “Love you,” she says, picking up her mug.
“Yes, yes,” says Julie’s dad, awkwardly, before taking her by the shoulders, swiveling her round so she’s facing the door, and setting her off along the hall with a gentle pat on the backside.
He waits until he hears Julie shut the bedroom door, then he smiles, and shakes his head. “You too, love,” he whispers.
4
Julie’s dad lowers himself into the nearest chair, and lets out the longest sigh, so I pause, midchew, and give him “the eyes,” which never fails to elicit an explanation.
“Oh, don’t mind me, Doug,” he says. “I’m just a bit...” His voice trails off, so I angle my head a little further, and he smiles flatly. “Okay. Well, since you asked...” He nods toward the calendar hanging on the wall by the microwave. “Like Julie said, it’s five years since we said goodbye to Jean. That’s Julie’s mum,” he adds. “You never met her. But she was...” Julie’s dad swallows loudly.
“Anyway,” he continues. “That’s why we got you. Julie thought I could do with the company. Funny, really, how it turned out she needed you more than I did. And still does, judging by that Luke idiot she can’t seem to shake.”
Julie’s dad reaches down to scratch my back just in front of my tail—a move that always makes my left hind leg twitch uncontrollably, as if I’m trying to kick-start a motorbike, and something that never fails to put a smile on his face. Except for today.
“She’d have known what to do. Perhaps if she was still around, Julie wouldn’t... I mean, sometimes, I just don’t know what to do.” Julie’s dad sighs again and when his gaze returns to me, his eyes are glistening wet. “Not a word of this to Julie!” he says, wagging a finger at me. “She doesn’t need to know her old man’s a soppy old fool.”
Julie’s dad hauls himself to his feet, helps himself to a piece of paper towel from the dispenser on the kitchen counter, and blows his nose with such force that the glasses rattle in the cupboard. Then he stands at the sink and stares out of the window, so I pad over to where he’s standing, sit down at his feet, and rest a paw on his shin.
Julie’s dad snaps out of his daydream. “You done?” he says.
I snort my agreement, then follow him dutifully along the hall, where he collects the set of spare house keys from the hook by the front door, slips them into his pocket, pats the pocket he’s just slipped them into to double-check he’s got them, and smiles down at me.
“Ready?”
This is almost as funny as Julie’s “the usual?” because I’m always ready for a walk, as a walk is my second most favorite thing to do, after eating, or maybe my third after eating and riding in the car. And a walk with Julie’s dad always means the park, with its smorgasbord of scents, and a chance to mingle with other dogs. All in all, a pretty perfect morning.
Plus, since Julie’s dad lost his wife, it gives him something to do every day. A purpose, as I overheard Julie telling Priya once. And we all need a purpose in life—even me. For example, keeping cats out of Julie’s garden. Or Luke out of her bedroom.
I big stretch, to the accompaniment of Julie’s dad’s “Big stretch!”, then follow him out through the front door.
“So,” says Julie’s dad, once we’re safely clear of the house, and therefore out of Julie’s earshot. “What are we going to do abo
ut Julie, then?”
I stare up at him as I walk, pleased to be included, then stick my tongue out, lick my nose, and snort affably, even though I assume the question’s rhetorical.
“Trouble is,” he says, leading me around the corner. “She’d be better off without that Luke. Though of course, you can’t tell her that. You could never tell Julie anything, especially when she was a wee lass. Always needed to find things out for herself, she did. Sometimes the hard way.”
I snort again, a little guilty that this is a pretty one-sided conversation, but Julie’s dad does live on his own, so I suppose talking to me is better than talking to no one at all. Besides, as I learned from watching sitcoms on the television with Julie, most people already know the solutions to their problems, and it’s encouraging them to talk that’s the important thing.
“You don’t know anyone for her, I suppose?” he continues, as we head in through the park gates and take the path that leads toward the café. “Someone more appropriate? Mind you, that’s not asking for much.”
I have a think about everyone we know who might be suitable for Julie. There are random strangers, obviously, but maybe I better save them for backup. Which leaves... To be honest, I can’t think of anyone, and it’s a relief when the café comes into view. As we walk in through the front door, Dot, the café’s owner, shouts out her usual, “Morning, handsome!” greeting from behind the counter, and Julie’s dad’s face turns a different shade. He likes Dot, and Dot likes him, though that seems to be the end of it. Whenever Julie suggests that he asks Dot out, Julie’s dad always mumbles something about it being “too early,” and while anyone sensible might therefore come back in the afternoon, for some reason that doesn’t occur to him.
“Hullo, Dot,” he says awkwardly, possibly confused as to whether Dot’s “handsome” refers to him or me, then he leads me over to a table by the window. Dot doesn’t mind dogs in here—in fact, she actively encourages them. A sensible marketing strategy given the park’s clientele.
“The usual?” she calls, ignoring the woman with a walker standing at the counter in front of her.
“Best not. I’m watching my weight.”
“What on earth for? You’re as fit as a butcher’s dog.”
Julie’s dad does that “face-darkening” thing again, possibly because Dot’s just broadcast that last sentence to the whole café, then he reaches down to refasten my leash to my collar and loops it around the table leg, possibly as a diversionary tactic.
“Doctor’s orders,” he says, a little self-consciously. “I will have a coffee, though. And one of your muffins. For Doug.”
“‘For Doug.’” Dot’s made a pair of midair “bunny ears” with her fingers. “Sure.”
She winks at him, and Julie’s dad appears not to know where to look, then he catches my eye, and says, “What?” in an embarrassed way, then turns to stare out of the window. But before I can think of a suitably appropriate response, Dot’s materialized at our table with a mug of coffee in one hand and a plate bearing a large, delicious-smelling muffin in the other.
“Everything alright?” she says, depositing the two items on the table.
“What? Oh, yes,” says Julie’s dad.
“Only you seemed to be lost in thought.”
“Me?”
“No, I was talking to Doug.” Dot winks at me this time. “How’s your Julie doing?”
Julie’s dad looks up with a start. Dot’s no fool, and he knows it, therefore I suspect he also knows there’s no fooling her.
“Not so good, actually.”
“Boyfriend trouble?”
“You a clairvoyant, or something?”
“I knew you were going to say that,” says Dot, and Julie’s dad bursts out laughing.
“She’s...seeing someone.” He pushes out a chair with his foot, and Dot sits down. “But it’s...complicated.”
“Don’t tell me he’s married.”
Julie’s dad stares at her mutely, and when Dot says, “Well?”, he smiles and says, “You said not to tell you.”
“Ha!” says Dot. “So, he is?”
Julie’s dad nods as he peels the wrapper from the muffin. “Apparently so. And even though he keeps promising he’ll leave his wife...”
As is de rigueur for our visits here, he passes the wrapper down to me, and—deftly anchoring it to the floor with one paw—I begin to lick the crumbs from it. “Between you and me, I fear she’s only with him because she’s worried she might end up on her own, a lonely old lady, with just a cat for company.”
“That’s awful.”
“What is? The fact that she’s only with him for that reason, or the chance that she might end up like that?”
“Both!”
Julie’s dad picks his mug up and blows across the top. “She needs someone loyal. Faithful. Smart. Someone who’s a...” He glances down at me, retrieves the muffin wrapper (which I’ve licked so clean Dot could probably reuse it), then makes a face as if something’s just occurred to him. “Good boy.”
Dot nods thoughtfully, then reaches down to pet me. “So you’re basically looking for the human equivalent of Doug here?”
“Yup,” he says, after a mouthful of coffee that’s evidently a little too hot. “Though maybe a bit taller. With a few less wrinkles. And better-smelling breath.”
I huff, then lick the remaining muffin crumbs from my nose as Dot and Julie’s dad erupt into a fit of giggles.
Dot pauses in her stroking me, and I give her an encouraging tail wag.
“What kind of men does she normally go for?” she says.
“If she was getting that right, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Julie’s dad sighs. “Ever since we lost her mum, it’s as if she’s been scared of change, and now she worries she’s stuck in a rut.” He throws both hands up helplessly in the air. “Not that you could tell her anything.”
“Kids, eh?” says Dot.
“How’s your...?”
“Tom?” says Dot. “In the same boat, unfortunately.”
“Seeing a married man?”
Dot punches Julie’s dad lightly on the shoulder. “Turns out he picked the wrong woman to marry. Not that you could tell him.”
“Ah,” says Julie’s dad, as something occurs to me. Tom’s Dot’s son. And by the sound of things, he’s not in the healthiest of relationships either.
A plan starts to formulate itself in my brain. Perhaps instead of me doing the rescuing directly, I could engineer things so Tom rescues Julie from Luke, and then Tom and Julie could rescue each other.
It’s such a great plan that I can’t see why Julie’s dad and Dot haven’t thought of it themselves.
“Like you said. Kids, eh?” says Julie’s dad.
It’s times like now that I regret not being able to talk, but it’s fortunate that I’m a master of unspoken communication. Pointedly, I let out a loud snort, widen my eyes to maximum aperture, and stare up at the two of them, flicking my gaze from one to the other until eventually, Dot gets the message.
“Here’s an idea,” she says, as if it’s hers, although I don’t really mind who gets the credit. “Your Julie should meet my Tom.”
“D’you think?”
“Why not?” says Dot.
Julie’s dad opens his mouth, as if he’s already thought of a reason, then—thankfully—he evidently changes his mind. “He’s single, is he?”
“He was married,” says Dot, pointedly. “But his wife... Let’s just say she’s no longer on the scene.”
“Oh. Right. Good. You hear that, Doug?” says Julie’s dad, perhaps because I’m still staring up at the two of them, so I snort in an “obviously” way. I hear everything.
“He’s thirty-two. Drives a Mercedes. Convertible, mind.”
Julie’s dad makes an “impressed” face. “All his own hair an
d teeth?”
Dot nods. “And he’s nice looking. Not as ruggedly handsome as you, of course.”
Julie’s dad looks like he’s not sure how to react to that. “Sounds promising,” he says, after an awkward moment. “And is he local?”
“A little bit too local, right now,” says Dot, then she smiles. “Seeing as he’s just moved back in with his mum.”
“Right,” says Julie’s dad, a little less enthusiastically than before. “And, um, please don’t take this the wrong way, but...” He clears his throat awkwardly. “What’s wrong with him?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s thirty-two, and still living at home.” Julie’s dad takes another sip of coffee. “You said it yourself.”
“Relax.” Dot rolls her eyes. “He’s had to sell his flat, so he’s moved back home until he can find somewhere else to live. Or so he says. Four weeks and counting...” She grins. “But aside from being a little bruised. Emotionally, I mean...”
“What does he do?”
“Goes for long runs round the park after work, then spends the evening moping around the house, as far as I can tell. Though work-wise...” She glances down at me. “Well, let’s just say he’s in the medical profession.”
Julie’s dad sits up a little straighter. “He’s a doctor?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
Dot leans down to cover my ears with her hands. “Of animals,” she whispers.
“Oh. Right,” says Julie’s dad. “So he’s a...?”
“V-E-T,” says Dot, and I freeze, suddenly downgrading the brilliance of my plan. I don’t like V-E-Ts. Never have. And the thought that Julie might start going out with one is only slightly less horrendous than the idea of her ending up with a cat.
“Kids?”
“No, no kids. But he looks like he needs cheering up, and I’m sure he’d be interested in meeting Julie. And he loves dogs.”
Julie’s dad looks impressed. “So how do we get the two of them together?”
Dot thinks for a moment. “Well, it’s supposed to be a nice evening tomorrow, so I was thinking of having a barbecue. You could come. Just so you have an excuse to bring Julie, obviously.” She stands up, and pushes her chair back in. “And Doug is invited too, of course. Say around six? I’ll make sure Tom’s there, and...”
