Revenge on the Rye

by Alice Castle

  Her troubled grey eyes met York’s. He shrugged a little, then squatted to pet the Labrador just at the moment when Beth’s hand smoothed over the velvety old head. Their fingers met – and entwined.

  York sighed. ‘I’m sorry I was cross earlier. I just hate it when you put yourself in danger.’

  ‘I know. I’m sorry, too. But I wasn’t doing anything reckless this morning. I was just out walking…’

  ‘Only you could go for a stroll and fall over a body,’ said York ruefully, straightening up.

  ‘That’s not even true,’ said Beth, rising to her full height and tilting her chin to look up at him. ‘Dog-walkers are always tripping over corpses. I shouldn’t have to tell you that.’

  York made a noise that sounded like a harrumph, turned away for a moment, and said hopefully, ‘Supper?’

  Beth grimaced. It was a bad night to have to admit that the cupboard was bare. Ben had eaten with Charlie, and Beth had assumed she’d make a meal of whatever was lurking at the back of the fridge. That wouldn’t tickle Harry’s palate, though. Sure enough, he peered optimistically into the bulging carrier she’d brought back from Katie’s, only to find tins of dog food that Teddy had turned his wet black nose up at.

  ‘I’ll pop out for some fish and chips,’ said Beth in a conciliatory tone, picking up her bag from its usual spot on the paint tin.

  York looked at the can of emulsion and sighed. ‘I’ll go. Safer that way. Don’t want you tripping over multiple stabbing victims in the chippy, do we?’ He ruffled her hair and banged the door shut behind him.

  Beth tore the scrunchy from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her mane. She hated it when he messed her hair up like that. She bundled it all back off her face again, and trailed into the kitchen, followed by Colin. As she bustled about getting the wine glasses out of the cupboard and finding cutlery, he sat, staring up at her expectantly. ‘Is it your dinner time, too?’ she asked, finally realising what he was telling her.

  She got the bag and took the haul of dog food out. Teddy seemed to have rejected at least half of the contents of Waitrose’s pet aisle already. She held out each tin to Colin in turn, waiting to see which one he liked the look of, but she got the same panting enthusiasm for them all.

  There was even a bowl in the shape of a bone in the bag, so Beth put that on the floor and scraped a tin’s worth of disgusting meaty mess into it, hoping Colin would eat fast so she didn’t have to see or smell it for too long. He obliged her, showing a spurt of speed for the first time that day, and snuffling hopefully around in the bowl long after it was licked clean. Beth wasn’t sure if that meant she’d been a bit mean with his portion, but she had a dim memory that Labs were quite greedy – and Colin was already a solid chap. Still, she hoped she wasn’t depriving him. But with any luck he’d soon be moving on to a new home where people knew a lot more about this whole dog ownership thing.

  A clattering at the door meant York was back with the catch of the day, so she busied herself putting the plates on a tray with everything else and taking it to the sitting room. For some reason, a take-away always meant a TV dinner. She wasn’t sure why, but maybe it was to do with standards slipping. If she was feeling lazy enough to buy instead of cook, then the full piggy experience of eating in front of a screen seemed only fitting. Tonight, having their eyes glued to the box would mean that York wouldn’t be able to tell Beth off again for finding another body – something that she was already heartily sick of.

  The slight prickliness she was already feeling had hardened into something more resentful as they sat in silence, tucking away cod and chips twice. He hadn’t even gone to Olley’s this time, but to the much closer, much less good shop on Half Moon Lane.

  Maybe she’d been wrong giving York a key. At the time, it had seemed like a logical next step. He worked such anti-social hours that normal dating – whatever that was; Beth certainly didn’t claim to know – was almost out of the question. If she hadn’t given him the run of the place, she would never have seen him. And that, she admitted, would have been a shame. But now, several months into the relationship, she didn’t quite know where they were or, perhaps more importantly, what direction they were headed in.

  It all seemed to be on his terms. Ridiculous as it seemed, she’d never yet been to his flat, even though he was so much at home in her little house that he now had his feet up on Ben’s schoolbag as he licked a heady cocktail of salt and ketchup off his fingers. Noisily. In fact, tonight, he was making the sedate Colin look like the ideal male companion.

  The dog had curled up cosily at her feet with his head just on the edge of her toes, keeping them lovely and warm. Every now and then, he’d gaze up at her with affectionate, if puzzled, eyes. The rest of the time he was content to stay peacefully silent, giving out the odd gusty sigh which, in Beth’s head, meant that he was missing his master. She leaned down to pat him, then tutted and picked York’s used chip wrappers off the floor, stuffing them in the carrier bag.

  York, glued to a re-run of The Wire, remained oblivious, then turned to her, jabbing at the screen with a chip in hand, saying through a thick mouthful of cod, ‘See? That’s where they get it so wrong. No way could they have done that, it’s completely impossible.’

  Beth murmured something that could have been assent, confident that York wasn’t really listening. He was more interested in putting his own point across than hearing hers. His legs were spread out wide, dominating the small room. He was taking up three-quarters of the sofa, and his whole attention was wrapped up in the goings-on in Baltimore. Well, better that than nagging her again about things that were outside her control.

  She put her plate aside and got her phone out and flicked idly through her messages. She should be cross-questioning York about what he was doing to find out where Colin belonged now, but she supposed a night with the old boy wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. The dog was quite a comforting presence.

  As though he knew she was thinking about him, Colin looked up at her again and thumped the floor with his tail gently. She didn’t have any sort of bed for him – did dogs need them? She’d bought a few, over the years, for Magpie, but her cat had always taken great pleasure in ignoring such rash purchases, however cushy the fake fur or enticing the fleecy interior. She much preferred vital paperwork, school projects or, of course, any garment of Beth’s left foolishly lying around; the more expensive the better.

  ‘I suppose I’d better take Colin out for a final walk. That’s what people do, right?’ asked Beth, nudging York and hoping he’d get the message and jump up to do it himself. But he was deep in the murky world of America’s war on drugs, and barely grunted.

  Beth sighed, collected up their plates and wrappers, shoved the rest of the rubbish into the bag, and put it by the door to take out. Once the dishes were rinsed, she slipped on her shoes and picked up Colin’s lead, looking round in surprise. Where was he?

  Out in the hall, she found the old boy with his head stuffed in the chip bag. When he emerged, looking slightly guilty, Beth didn’t have the heart to tell him off. After the day he’d had, he deserved a few extra carbs. And by the looks of his muzzle, he’d eaten her lemon quarter, too. Hmm, she thought. That was probably not such a great idea.

  On the street, it was decidedly nippy, but Beth enjoyed the quick saunter round the block more than she’d thought. It was a good way of clearing that greasy après-junk food feeling from her system, and she felt a sense of camaraderie with the other dog-walkers who seemed to be the only people around at this time of night. No-one seemed to be astonished to see her with a dog. Perhaps, contrary to her long-held belief that she and dogs didn’t mix, she might be a natural, after all?

  Colin seemed to be loving his airing, stopping to wee methodically every now and then, but showing no signs of wanting to do more. Which was just as well, as Beth hadn’t brought any bags and she’d already jettisoned the chip wrappings in the wheelie bin outside the house. She definitely wasn’t looking forward t
o that aspect of dog ownership. But hopefully, York would have found the boy his rightful home before his bowels had time to move.

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, she opened her eyes to find an admiring male gazing at her as though she was the most beautiful creature in the world. Unfortunately, he had the most ghastly case of dog breath ever.

  ‘Colin! Get off,’ she said, shoving at him ineffectually and looking wildly round at the other side of the bed. York had upped and left, it seemed, leaving the bedroom door wide open for marauding Labradors. She’d missed her chance to have a proper talk with him about what on earth was happening with this dog – and much else besides. Were there kennels, for instance, where dogs like Colin could be stored until relatives came to claim them? And was it time that she got her whole relationship with York onto a clearer footing?

  These were just two questions that were going to have to wait. Top of the agenda was getting everyone up and ready for work, and all of a sudden that now included a grieving dog. Beth wished, yet again, that Janice was back from her maternity leave. Would Wyatt’s allow her to bring the old boy in until something could be sorted out? Janice’s replacement, Sam, wouldn’t have the authority. Beth’s great friend Nina was now working at the school as an admin assistant, after her old job had come to a very abrupt, somewhat messy end, but she didn’t yet have her feet far enough under the desk to help Beth out.

  But wait a minute, maybe there was a way of sneaking the old boy in by the back door, so to speak. As long as Colin didn’t go on the rampage in school grounds, then Beth couldn’t see that the poor chap would really pose any sort of a problem. He could stay in her room with her, help her with the archives. He’d be well out of the way. Her office in the old Geography block was off the main drag, far from the Headmaster’s office. Goodness knows, she often felt she could do with an assistant – usually just so she could lumber someone else with the less enticing bits of her in-tray, but still.

  She wasn’t at all sure what the school policy with dogs was. She imagined it would go something along the lines of, guide dogs good, all others bad. But if she didn’t ask, then she couldn’t know, and if she didn’t know, she wasn’t infringing anything. It wasn’t perhaps the most morally upright code, but Beth decided it would have to do for the moment. It wasn’t as though it was a situation of her own making. She’d acquired Colin entirely accidentally, and was as keen as the next person to move him along.

  Well, she told herself that. But actually, looking down into his dark eyes as they meandered along to school later, she knew it wasn’t really true. Already, he’d encroached a little into a heart which she’d firmly felt was a dog-free zone. Even Magpie, whom she’d expected to have a lot to say about the matter, had just decided to evade the issue, making herself scarce yesterday evening and not showing so much as a paw this morning either. Her little bowl of goodies was empty, though. Assuming Colin hadn’t done the dirty on her and scoffed her food – and if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t try that more than once – then she’d been back to have breakfast and ready herself for a day of hanging out with the neighbourhood cats, no doubt having quite a hissy-fit about the new addition to the family.

  Beth had a moment of doubt as she passed George, the porter, in his little glass cabin, but he just smiled at her as though he saw her saunter in with a large dog every day of the week. Rather anxiously, she and Colin padded down the corridor to her office, and she then installed him in her little-used conference corner, where there was a table he could sit under. From the doorway, you’d never even know there was a dog here at all, thought Beth, hoping all her visitors would keep out of range of Colin’s pungent halitosis.

  At some point during the day, she knew she was going to have to take him for a walk, and presumably the moment she dreaded would arrive. But she had remembered to shove a roll of Southwark Council’s compost caddy-liners into her bag as she’d left home. It wasn’t, by any means, the intended use of these little sachets, but in an emergency she hoped she’d be forgiven. Until then, there was plenty of work to be getting on with.

  Two hours later, Beth realised she’d had her most productive morning for, well, she hesitated to say years, but… Decisions had been taken, documents corrected, emails returned, and all under the watchful eye of Colin, who seemed to be willing her endeavours on with his every measured breath. Suddenly, though, he got to his feet and whined.

  This was so unusual that Beth stopped what she was doing immediately. ‘What’s up, boy?’ she asked.

  Colin put his head on one side and panted. Beth smiled at him vaguely, then returned to her screen. He whined again. She got up, went over to him, patted him a few times, then returned to her desk. The whine came again. And he wasn’t sitting back down. This was serious. She thought for a moment, then realised he probably did finally need to use the facilities, as it were. And it was lunchtime. Both very good reasons to try and meet up with Katie in the park. She collected her bag and jacket with one hand and stabbed at her phone with the other.

  Twenty minutes later, Beth was at the café in the park, waiting for Katie. Despite the chill, she was sitting at one of the monolithic picnic tables with a much more relaxed Colin keeping her feet toasty. The deed she had dreaded was done and dusted. She’d found it slightly less revolting than she’d thought. It was a long while since Ben had been in nappies, but the principle was much the same. Though her hands hadn’t come into contact with anything, she’d still tethered the dog to a bench and given her hands a thorough scrub in the café loos before she felt able to put the incident behind her.

  She’d been more particular about this, in fact, than when she’d handled his dead master and then eaten a brownie, she realised with a faint wave of nausea. No doubt she’d get used to it. But she stopped herself there – no, she wouldn’t have to. Because York was going to take Colin off her hands, as quickly as possible.

  Beth was just fulminating on this point and wondering crossly whether York was dragging his heels to punish her in some obscure way for becoming the Dulwich mums’ circuit equivalent of a vulture, with her unerring eye for a carcass, when she saw Katie striding towards her with her customary easy grace, only slightly hampered by Teddy doing a slalom through her legs. Unusually, Katie was wearing a hoody pulled up right over her sunny blonde hair and, if Beth was not mistaken, she was peering a little furtively from side to side as she bowled along. She slipped onto the bench opposite Beth and they air-kissed – the table was just too wide to permit the normal double Dulwich greeting.

  ‘You ok?’ Beth asked, wrinkling her brow beneath her fringe.

  ‘Yep, yep,’ said Katie, seeming to scan the horizon a little nervously, then hunkering down to whisper across the table. ‘Would you mind getting me a coffee from inside? I can’t risk taking Teddy in.’

  The puppy, who was now busying himself bouncing up and down on Colin’s paws, looked round briefly at the mention of his name then redoubled his efforts to get the older dog’s attention by nibbling his ears. Colin, very sensibly, gave a deep sigh and rolled over onto his side, pretending to be asleep. Beth looked at his glossy brown coat, picking up dirt and leaves, and worried in advance about her floors. But she could see the old boy had a point.

  ‘Flat white?’ she asked, and Katie nodded.

  The café had recently had a change of ownership. Gone were the passive-aggressive notices about baby wipes in the sewers – but gone, too, was the soft-play area for the tinies. It didn’t cause Beth too much of a pang, as her boy was so far beyond all that now, but she did wonder how the mothers with toddlers would cope. She and Katie had spent endless summers here when the boys were small. It was very chi-chi now, with Farrow & Ball’s entire selection of relentlessly tasteful taupes on the walls and the sandwiches tucked into faux-artisanal stencilled wooden farm crates, which had never been within ten miles of a real farm for hygiene reasons. And the coffee, hand-ground on the premises and brewed in the latest machine that looked as though it
could nip to Mars and back, had suffered a huge price hike. On the plus side, it was now delicious.

  Beth left the café somewhat reluctantly. It was lovely and warm in there and the fug of steamy coffee and hot milk was very soothing. The cold bit as soon as she was out of the door, and she could almost feel her nose going red. She sat down at the bench again, seeing in surprise that Katie was hunched over her phone. That was very unlike her. She usually hardly bothered with it, in public at least.

  ‘Everything ok?’ she asked tentatively, pushing the coffee across the expanse of wood.

  Katie looked up briefly. ‘I’m sorry, Beth. Lot on my mind,’ she said mysteriously, just as a woman walked over to their table and burst into speech.

  ‘Excuse me, I thought I recognised…’

  Katie immediately shrank into her hoody and turned away quite rudely. Beth stared in astonishment. Normally she was the chatty, friendly one and Beth was content to remain in the background. Not today, apparently.

  Beth looked up at the woman with a questioning smile. ‘Um, hello?’

  ‘Yes, it is, it’s Colin. How are you, lovely boy?’ asked the woman, stooping to pet the dog, who looked up at her with his pink tongue lolling and his heavy tail banging the ground. He even staggered to his feet and pressed his nose into her crotch, like someone very politely remembering his manners.

  ‘Oof, that’s definitely you, old boy. Never forget a fanny, do you?’ said the lady, petting his ears and stroking the velvety head.

  ‘You know Colin? You aren’t his owner, are you? Or one of them?’ Beth asked, slightly desperately. Maybe this lady was going to take the dog off her hands. ‘Do sit down.’

  ‘But where’s Mark?’ the woman asked at exactly the same time. ‘Oh, sorry, after you,’ she said with a laugh.

  Dressed in expensive jeans, with a silky top just showing beneath a snug rose-coloured cashmere cardigan, and feet in knee-high suede boots against the chill, the woman looked a typical well-heeled Dulwich lady of a certain age. Teddy was now nibbling at the ends of her sugar-pink pashmina, which had come unwrapped as she leaned forward to pet Colin.