by Matt Dunn
“Any ideas where she’s been all this time?”
“Someone around the corner had been feeding her so she’d decided to stay there for a while. They’d assumed she must belong to someone in the neighborhood and that his owner must be away. So they just kept feeding her, and she thought she’d move in for a bit and, well, long story short...”
Miss Harris pauses for breath just as Julie’s eyes begin to glaze over: the story’s already ventured into “long” territory. “They said they only saw my posters this morning,” she continues, “so they phoned me right away, and...” She forces a smile now, even though she looks as if she’s on the verge of tears, perhaps unsurprisingly. Santa evidently had decided the grass looked greener at someone else’s place and stayed there until she got found out.
I gaze up at Julie, wanting her to see the similarity, the irony, in her own situation, but apparently she doesn’t.
“Cats, eh?” Julie says. But instead of a friendly agreement, Miss Harris bristles. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, just that...” Julie looks like she’s already regretting stopping for a chat. “I mean, they say they’re not, you know, that, um, loyal...”
“Rubbish!” spits Miss Harris. “My Santa was just...confused. Let’s face it, you turn up in a strange environment, someone gives you everything on a plate...”
“Or in a bowl...”
Miss Harris glares at Julie for having the temerity to interrupt. “As I was saying. They’re only animals.” She flicks her eyes down at me as she says this. “It’s in their nature.”
I have to stop myself from placing a paw on Julie’s shin to get her attention. This is Luke, I hope she realizes. He fancies a change of scene, to—if you excuse the phrase—eat out of someone else’s bowl, and then, when he is found out, off he goes. Only now he’s trying to wheedle his way back in as if he’s never been away.
“Still.” Julie reaches over and pats Miss Harris on the arm. “She’s back now. That’s the important thing.”
“It is,” agrees Miss Harris.
I follow Julie home, stunned into silence. If that’s truly how she feels, then I’ve got a long and uphill battle ahead of me.
38
There are two ways to get those people in the park who spray-paint themselves gray and pretend to be statues to move. One is for someone to put some loose change into the collection box they’ve positioned in front of them; the other is for me to make the mistake of thinking they’re actual statues and pee on their feet. And while I’m more than a little embarrassed at my faux pas, it seems to amuse both Julie and Julie’s dad, so I don’t feel too bad.
It’s Julie’s dad’s first proper walk after his heart attack, so we decide to take it slowly, so despite my keenness to get away from Angry Statue Man, I refrain from my usual straining-at-the-leash activities. Julie’s been insisting her dad holds onto her arm for most of the way, and though he protests, you can tell he’s actually quite glad for the support.
When we get to the pond, Julie points at the nearest bench. “Did you want to wait here while I take Doug for his circuit?”
Julie’s dad shakes his head. “I think I can make it as far as the café,” he says, winking at me.
Julie tries, and fails, to hide a smile. Her dad and Dot have hardly been off the phone to each other since his trip to the hospital. Given how she reportedly makes him “feel alive,” that’s probably a good thing.
“Fine,” says Julie.
The three of us stroll over and find a table on the café terrace, Julie looping my leash around the table leg. Dot catches sight of us through the window and, leaving another customer half-served, she rushes out to say hello.
“Jim! How are you feeling?”
Without waiting for a response, Dot leans down and throws her arms around his neck. Julie’s dad sits there awkwardly for a moment, then he reaches up and gives Dot the briefest of embarrassed hugs in return.
“Oh, you know...”
Dot nods, as if she knows exactly what it’s like. “What can I get you?” she says. “And I hope you’re not going to tell me it’s all health food from here on in?”
Julie’s dad laughs. “Not much point in surviving a heart attack if salad’s all you have to look forward to for...” His voice trails off, perhaps because he’s aware of the look Julie’s giving him. “Just, um, bring us a couple of coffees. Oh, and make mine decaf,” he adds, glumly.
“Coming right up,” Dot says and, true to her word, she’s back in a couple of minutes with coffee for Julie, decaf for her dad, and a bowl of water for me. Plus a huge slice of frosted cake.
Julie frowns at the cake. “We didn’t order...”
“It’s carrot cake. So it’s healthy. And it’s on the house,” says Dot, with a wink. Then she takes Julie’s dad’s hand and gives it a quick squeeze. “It’s good to see you up and about,” she says, as she leans down to hug him again. “Really good,” she adds, as if she’s trying to tell him something. Judging by the way his face flushes, he understands.
Dot rests a hand on Julie’s shoulder. “And how are you, love?”
“Oh, you know.”
“Tom...” Dot begins, but Julie holds her palm out.
“Dot, please.”
“I don’t know what’s happened between the two of you, but...”
“Nor do I, Dot.”
“All I know is that he’s back to moping around the house...”
“Yes, well, he’s got no right to mope!” says Julie, angrily.
Dot makes eye contact with me, as if she doesn’t know where else to look, then she glances back toward the café where a number of people are waiting impatiently in a line by the register.
“Well, I’d better...”
“Of course,” says Julie’s dad, reassuringly.
“No rest for the, you know...”
It’s the first time I’ve seen Dot flustered, but fortunately, Julie’s dad is there to save the day.
“Wicked?” he suggests, with a raised eyebrow.
A smile returns to Dot’s face, and with a loud “Cheeky!” she heads back inside. Then, after a somewhat uncomfortable silence, Julie’s dad clears his throat.
“I really don’t want to talk about it,” says Julie, before he gets a chance to launch into his speech. “And I suspect you don’t either. So can we just...?” Julie rearranges the items on the table, though not by much, but Julie’s dad won’t let it go.
“Julie, love...”
“Dad, please. Tom’s just... He’s probably decided... I mean, he’s not... I gave him a way out, and on reflection he’s decided to take it. And it’s for the best. He’s probably still trying to sort himself out, and I’m... You know, after Luke, and all... Well, I’m sure the last thing Tom wants to do is to have to deal with the fallout from that. And I can’t blame him, really.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, love.”
“I’m just being realistic.”
“Really? Because it’s not always easy to tell. You know. How someone feels about you.” Julie’s dad swallows audibly, and glances over to where Dot is standing behind the cash register, occasionally glancing over in our direction in a way that she’s pretending she isn’t watching us, although she’s doing a bad job of it. “Look at me and Dot, for example. All that time, it didn’t occur to me that she... Well...”
“Had the serious hots for you?”
“Well, yes. I thought she was just being... Friendly.”
“The free muffins weren’t a giveaway?”
“Maybe.” Julie’s dad grins sheepishly. “And I worried I was off-limits because of your mum, and I thought Dot knew that too. But it can take a while for reality to sink in. For you to see a way out. Especially if you’re...resistant to it.”
“A way out of what?”
Julie’s dad looks at her ea
rnestly. “Whatever’s holding you back,” he says.
Julie seems to bristle a little at this, then she picks up a knife, though it’s only to slice the cake into bite-size pieces before sliding the plate across to her dad.
“Here.”
“Love...?”
“It’s what you used to do for me when I was a little girl, remember? Cut up my food when I wasn’t well? Told me I had to save my energy for chewing? You did that for Mum too, when she got really bad. She didn’t like it, though.”
“I remember.” Julie’s dad smiles wistfully. “Your mother hated being ill. And with good reason.”
“Yup,” says Julie.
“I tell you.” Julie’s dad picks up his decaf, blows on the top of it, takes a sip, and grimaces slightly. He reaches for a packet of sugar from the glass on the center of the table, then—as if he senses Julie’s disapproval—hurriedly changes his selection to a sachet of sweetener. “Life’s too short,” he says.
Julie reaches across the table to squeeze her dad’s hand, then she frowns. “For?”
“Everything. What happened to your mum should be a lesson for both of us. As should Doug.”
“Doug?” She glances down at me, and I wag my tail in response. “I don’t...”
“He’s only here for a seventh of what we get, and is he unhappy about it? No, he lives each day to the fullest.”
“Even though he spends most of his day asleep?”
“That’s not the point,” says Julie’s dad, then he hesitates, as if he’s trying desperately to work out what the point actually is. “All I mean is... Watch this.”
Julie’s dad picks up a chunk of cake, but instead of handing it directly to me, he places it just out of reach on the edge of the table.
Though we all know I can’t possibly jump that high, I understand Julie’s dad’s using me as a metaphor right now. And since the last thing I want to do is let either him or Julie down, I spend the next thirty seconds doing my best to defy the laws of gravity.
“See?” Then, with a whispered “Good boy, Doug,” Julie’s dad feeds me the piece of cake. “Doug spots something he wants, and he goes for it, no matter how far out of reach he thinks it might be, however hard it is to get, no matter what the obstacles are. And more importantly...” He holds a hand out to me now, and I give his fingers a friendly lick. “He doesn’t hold a grudge.” Julie’s dad pats me on the head. “There’s a lesson there for us all.”
“Okay, okay! Enough of the lecture. From both of you!” Julie rolls her eyes at her dad, gives me a look as if I’m a traitor, then reaches down and scratches my chin in a way that tells me she forgives me.
But despite her dad’s lecture, I’m still not sure she’ll forgive Tom, though. And how on earth I’m going to make her understand she’s got nothing to forgive him for, I’m just not sure.
39
It’s Sunday morning, Barkrun time, but despite me eating everything I’ve had the opportunity to, so much so that Julie’s had to loosen my collar a notch, she’s decided we’re not going to class. And while that’s possibly a little selfish—after all, it’s my well-being as well as hers we’re talking about—Julie’s pride won’t seem to let her make any moves where Tom’s concerned.
Julie’s dad’s moved back to his own house—something about living with us “cramping his style.” He’s also wearing a huge, Dot-inspired grin most of the time, though Julie hasn’t pressed him for details. When she reported the goings-on to Priya, Priya suggested Julie’s dad and Dot might get married, and if that turned out to be the case, Julie and Tom would be brother and sister, which Priya seemed to find hilarious, even though it would be a major barrier to them getting together. And there seems to be enough of a barrier there already.
It’s a sunny morning, and we’re back home after a brief walk along the river. Julie’s changed into her bikini and she’s just setting up her lounge chair in the back garden sun, no doubt planning a day of doing nothing, when the doorbell rings.
“Round the back!” she shouts, then she unlatches the high wooden gate by the side of the house, perhaps assuming it’s her dad. Instead, a familiar if unwelcome smell comes wafting through the air, and a moment later, the gate swings open, and Luke appears. What’s more, the look on his face on seeing how Julie’s dressed (or undressed, to be more accurate) suggests he’s just won the lottery.
“Looking good, Julie!”
“Do you mind!”
Julie grabs the nearest towel, and does her best to cover herself with it, but it’s my towel, so it’s a little small and not quite up to the job. Something Luke seems to be taking great pleasure in.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“And you’re not going to be seeing it again! What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d come and see how your dad was?”
“He’s not here.” Julie seems a little uncomfortable as he realizes she’s just admitting she’s alone in the house. “And neither should you be.”
“Come on, Julie.” Luke’s showing no sign of taking the hint. “What’s with the hostility? After all, if I weren’t here the other night, hadn’t called an ambulance...”
“And I’m very grateful for that. We all are. But not that grateful.”
“Don’t I at least deserve another chance?”
“Luke, I... We can’t.”
“We can! Unless...”
“Unless what?”
“That Tom is still on the scene?” Luke’s phrased it as a question, though something tells me he already knows the answer.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, he isn’t.”
“Oh. Right. I’m sorry to hear that,” says Luke, though his face gives the opposite impression.
He takes a step closer, then another, and moves to take Julie’s hand. “Come on, Julie. We were good together.”
“Were being the operative word.”
“And we can be again.”
“Luke...”
Julie seems to be frozen to the spot, perhaps in fear, so I start barking, as loudly and frantically as I can, and prepare myself to leap to Julie’s defense. Although in the end, I don’t have to, because, in that weird way that life sometimes surprises you, it’s Miss Harris who comes to our aid.
“He’s doing it again!” she shouts, from the other side of the fence.
“What?”
Miss Harris could of course be referring to Luke, as he’s so obviously back to his old ways, but she’s staring accusingly at me, so I stop barking.
“Not now, Mary, please,” says Julie.
“That dog of yours.” Miss Harris points a gnarled old finger at me, as if keen to make sure Julie knows she means me. “Has a screw loose.”
Julie sighs. She’s still trying to hold the towel up to protect her modesty, though it makes her look like a half-naked bullfighter. “What do you mean?”
“Some guard dog he’s turned out to be.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t...”
Miss Harris shakes her head. “Most dogs bark to stop people coming into the house. This one...” She points at me again, just to leave Julie in no doubt whatsoever. “He barks to stop them leaving.”
“Huh?”
“The other night. All that commotion...”
“If by commotion you mean the ambulance that came and saved my dad’s life...”
“Before that. The raised male voices through the wall. Then this young man.” She turns her attention to Luke. “Doing his best to flee the scene. I thought he was a thief, the way he came running out the door. And he wouldn’t let him out of the garden.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Doug.” Miss Harris points at me a third time. “Stood at the front gate blocking his way, barking his silly head off.”
“I’m sorry. Which young man?”
“Him.” The finger comes out again, though this time, it’s aimed squarely at Luke. “Then he reached into his pocket... For a moment, I thought he was going to pull out a gun and shoot Doug!”
Thought, I think. Hoped, more like.
“But instead, he got his phone out and dialed someone. Next thing you know, it’s all sirens and blue flashing lights. It’s lucky my Santa wasn’t here, otherwise she’d have been quite traumatized by it all.”
“But...” Julie stares at her, then at Luke, then she says, “But” again, and Luke’s mouth flaps open.
“What?” he says, as Julie folds her arms and glares at him.
“You were running away?” she says.
“No, I...I can see how you might think that, but...”
“Tell the truth, will you, Luke,” Julie says, “for once in your life!”
Julie’s shouted that last sentence, and so loudly, so forcefully that Luke actually does what he’s told.
“We’d had a simple argument, okay? Your dad tried to tell me to leave you alone, and I told him I wouldn’t, and the next thing I know he’s clutching his chest, and all...” Luke lets his tongue loll out of his mouth, and mimes someone having a medical episode. “And I panicked, so I ran, and...”
“Left him for dead?” Julie says.
“Well, no. I mean, that’s what it might have looked like. I was going to call an ambulance. Really. I just couldn’t get any decent phone reception in the house, and...”
Luke’s voice trails off, probably because his excuse isn’t getting a decent reception either. And it’s at that precise moment—thanks partly to the range of expressions that pass across Julie’s face, from disbelief to realization to anger, though mainly because of the way she pulls her arm back, drops the towel, balls her hand into a fist, then punches Luke squarely in the nose—I realize I’ve won.
“Julie, what the...?” Luke staggers backward, puts his hand to his face, then stares at her incredulously.
“You...” Julie looks like she’s struggling for the right word. While I can think of a few, miming them is a little beyond me.
