by Ian Edwards
I thought I’d given him one of those rubber chewy bones to chew on. But it turned out it was a proper bit of gammon. Stupid dog ate the whole thing,’ he sighed. ‘Funny thing is, he’s allergic to uncooked meat and he checked out.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Why did you give him a chewy toy anyway? All his toys were in his basket.’
‘To keep him occupied while…’
‘While what?’ She interrupted, her voice issued a warning.
‘While I was…we were…settling him down for the night.’
‘I just can’t believe you,’ Rosie said as she threw back the duvet and got out of bed. ‘I really can’t believe you. All you had to do was stick to a list of instructions on a sheet of paper. Not on the list was kill the bloody dog.’
Clambering out of bed, Rosie scooped a pile of clothes off of the chair in the corner of the room. ‘Well you can explain to the girls how you managed to kill their dog. I’m staying out of it.’
Alan watched in silence as Rosie stormed out of the bedroom. He heard the bathroom door slam and the shower start.
‘I don’t know why she has to overreact to everything,’ he said and pulled the duvet over his head.
‘What have you done this time?’ Frankie asked as he walked into the bedroom. ‘I was having a kip on the sofa downstairs and all that shouting woke me up.’
Alan sighed, poking his head out from under the duvet and resting it on the headboard. ‘I think I killed Mr Licky and Rosie’s giving me a hard time over it.’
Frankie smirked. ‘That woman is so unreasonable. I mean all you’ve done is kill the neighbour’s dog while it was in your care,’ he chuckled. ‘What was it? Wooden stake through the heart or did you throw a bucket of holy water over him?’
‘It was an accident,’ Alan protested. ‘I gave him gammon to keep him busy while James and I had a look round for my post. Turns out the stupid dog is allergic to it.’
Frankie shook his head and laughed. ‘You bring most of this on yourself don’t you?’
‘I’ll tell you what though,’ Alan said sitting up straighter. ‘We found evidence that Dawn and Joy are witches. They practice voodoo.’
Frankie stifled a laugh. ‘Really?’
‘Yes. Really. They’ve been putting spells on me.’
They heard the bathroom door open. ‘I’d keep that to yourself if I were you. I don’t think Rosie would be that interested in your snooping right now,’ Frankie said.
‘It’s not snooping,’ Alan snapped back.
‘What about snooping?’ Rosie said, stepping into the bedroom.
Alan and Frankie looked at Rosie who had changed into her gym kit.
‘The radio,’ Alan told her. ‘I was answering a question about Snoop-Dog.’
Rosie looked at the radio. ‘But it’s not on.’
‘I turned it off when you came in.’
Rosie stared at him.
‘Are you going for a run?’ He asked
‘I’m going next door to sort out the bloody mess you’ve made. So get yourself out of bed, you’re coming with me.’ She turned and stamped out of the bedroom
Alan threw the duvet back and sat on the edge of the bed. ‘I can’t see what the rush is,’ he said. ‘It’s not like he’s going anywhere.’
Downstairs Rosie could be heard banging around in kitchen.
Frankie winced as a cupboard door slammed, resonating up the stairs. ‘Best get a move on son, otherwise you could be joining the hell hound in eternal damnation.’
*
Rosie stood on Dawn and Joy’s doorstep and looked at Alan,
He smiled back at her.
‘Key,’ she snapped.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out a keyring with three keys on it.
‘It’s that one,’ he said as Rosie snatched it from him.
Alan took a step back and watched as Rosie fumbled with the key before finally opening the door.
‘You have thirty seconds to put the alarm code in,’ he said helpfully as Rosie walked him into the house. ‘It’s 1988,’ he added.
Without acknowledging him Rosie turned to the keypad on the wall and entered the four digit code.
‘I need to speak to you about something,’ Frankie said to Alan as he stepped in behind Rosie.
‘What’s up?’
‘Well…’ Frankie began, ‘the other night I…’
‘Oh my god,’ Rosie shouted from the house.
‘You’ll have to tell me later,’ Alan whispered. ‘I think Rosie’s about to go all CSI.’
He stepped into the hall and called out. ‘What’s wrong?’
Rosie appeared in the kitchen doorway. ‘Can’t you smell that? It’s awful…’
Alan sniffed a couple of times and pulled a face. ‘Smells like rotten meat.’
‘Smells like something died in here,’ Frankie mumbled with his arm across his mouth and nose. ‘Oh hang on…’ he grinned. ‘Something did.’
The rancid stench increased as Alan stepped into the kitchen. ‘Christ, I think Mr Licky has started decomposing already.’
‘Don’t be so bloody stupid, Alan,’ Rosie said, pushing past him into the kitchen. ‘You only killed him a few hours ago. Rigor Mortis has only just set in.’
‘I told you,’ Alan whispered to Frankie. ‘She’s getting all CSI.’
‘What?’ Rosie snapped.
Alan smiled at her. ‘I said, I can see what you mean.’
She gave him no indication she had heard what he’d said. Instead she made her way to the patio doors, released the latch and slid the doors open.
‘That should let some fresh air in.’
Alan sidled up to the open doors and took a deep breath. ‘That’s better.’
‘Where did you put him?’
‘In the living room. On the sofa.’
Rosie sighed. ‘I hope he’s allowed on the furniture.’
Alan grinned. ‘I didn’t think of that. I’d hate to get him into trouble.’
Rosie shook her head, walking out of the kitchen. Alan looked at Frankie who shrugged and they both followed Rosie into the hall.
Rosie stood in front of the closed living room door her hand on the handle.
‘I think the smell is getting worse,’ she said.
‘We don’t have to go in,’ Alan pointed out. ‘We could tell Dawn and Joy that he was fine when we left him. Maybe they’ll think he had a heart attack or something.’
‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Alan,’ Rosie hissed and opened the door.
‘God that stinks,’ Frankie said, putting his hand over his nose as the noxious air left the room and moved past them.
‘Why is it so dark in here?’ Rosie asked stepping through the doorway.
‘I closed the curtains as a mark of respect,’ Alan said, stepping past her and pulling the heavily lined curtains open, letting the morning sunlight stream into the room.
Rosie looked over the arm of the sofa at the prone dog laying wrapped in a blanket. ‘Here he is,’ she said quietly. ‘Poor little guy.’
Alan and Frankie stepped either side of her and looked at Mr Licky.
‘He looks so peaceful,’ Rosie said and wiped a tear from her eye.
‘Are you sure he hasn’t started decomposing?’ Alan mumbled through his hand, placed over his nose and mouth. ‘Only he really smells bad.’
Rosie dabbed her eye with a tissue. ‘Look, it’s almost like he’s smiling.’
‘Evil little bastard,’ Frankie said and Alan bit his tongue to stop himself laughing.
‘I’ll cover him up a bit more,’ Rosie said, reaching across and pulling at the edge of the blanket.
A chorus of trumpets reverberated around the room and another foul smell wafted over Alan, Frankie and Rosie.
‘Errrgh….’ Rosie groaned and put her hand over her nose.
‘Was that him?’ Frankie asked pointing at Mr Licky.
Alan looked closely at the dog. ‘Is he breathing?’
Rosie reached out and
touched Mr Licky’s ears. ‘They’re quite warm.’
‘Shouldn’t they be cold?’ Alan asked.
Rosie pursed her lips. ‘You’d think so wouldn’t you?’
Frankie crouched down, studying the dog. ‘You know something? I’m sure he’s breathing.’
At that moment Mr Licky opened his eyes.
‘Jesus,’ Frankie said, took two steps backwards and fell over.
Alan’s attention was split between the resurrection of Mr Licky and Frankie laying on his back crippled in fright.
Rosie gripped Alan’s arm. ‘He’s alive,’ she cried out.
Mr Licky twitched his nose, once, twice then caught sight of Frankie. Struggling onto its paws, he growled and launched himself at the helpless ghost.
Alan prised Rosie’s fingers from his arm. ‘Outside.’
He looked over at Frankie who was trying and failing to lift the howling Mr Licky off of his chest. ‘Sorry mate you’re on your own.’ He grabbed hold of Rosie’s wrist and pulled her towards the door. ‘Outside.’
Alan slammed the door behind them and leaned against it. ‘He’s back from the dead.’
Rosie looked at her ashen faced boyfriend. ‘What are you going on about?’
‘Mr Licky, he’s back from the dead…You saw him, he’s back.’
Rosie shook her head. ‘Can you stop being an idiot for just one minute? He was clearly never dead. You just don’t know the difference between sleeping and dead. Hang on,’ she added. ‘Why did you say you’re on your own?’
‘Did I? When?’
‘Just now, right before you dragged me out of room.’
‘Oh that…I was telling the dog he’s on his own.’
Rosie gave him a hard stare, suspicion etched across her face. ‘OK. Anyway, let’s let him out.’
‘Let’s not,’ Alan suggested.
Rosie pulled the door open. ‘What is wrong with you?’
Alan followed Rosie back into the living room. Mr Licky sat in the middle of the room wagging his tail. Alan was relieved to see there was no sign of Frankie. His friend must have taken the sensible step of disappearing into the ether.
Mr Licky saw them and started barking.
Rosie crouched down and patted the floor. ‘Are you feeling better?’ She asked.
Mr Licky scampered towards her, barked, looked up at Alan, growled and headed off in the direction of the kitchen.
*
Alan carefully measured out the correct weight of dog food into the Top Dog bowl. Rosie stood behind him checking he was following the instructions provided.
Mr Licky sat on the floor wagging his tail.
‘Can I give it to him now?’ Alan asked.
Rosie nodded and Alan placed the bowl on the floor in the front of the dog who wasted no time in getting stuck in.
‘I’m still not sure how he managed to come back to life,’ Alan said.
Rosie stopped wiping down the counter and said. ‘Do you not listen to a word I say? It might simply be because he wasn’t actually dead in the first place.’
‘I’m sure he was. He was still and he wasn’t breathing.’
Rosie put the damp cloth in the sink. ‘How did you know he had an allergy to uncooked meat? I can’t remember the girls mentioning it.’
‘It was written on one of these instructions sheets.’ Alan picked up several sheets of paper from the counter and quickly cast his eye over them. ‘There,’ he said after discounting several sheets of paper and passing one to Rosie. ‘Bottom line.’
Rosie took the paper. ‘It says here not to give him uncooked meat.’
‘I know, I told you that.’
Rosie flipped the paper over and smiled. ‘You didn’t read the other side did you?’
‘No, of course not,’ Alan told her. ‘Why would I? It doesn’t say PTO.’
‘It says here; because it gives him really bad wind.’
‘How bad?’
‘Says here, really bad.’
‘Ah.’
‘Yes. Ah.’
Alan avoided looking at Rosie, instead he looked up at the kitchen clock. ‘It’s nine o’clock,’ he announced as if he’d made a fantastic scientific breakthrough. ’We should be making a move. Lots to do today.’
‘You certainly have.’
‘Alan frowned. ‘Sorry?’
‘You’re staying here. You’ve got to air this place before the girls get home. Take him…’ she gestured at Mr Licky who had his face buried in his bowl, ‘for a walk and get a replacement gammon.’
Alan screwed his face up. ‘Can’t you stay and help?’
‘Not a chance. I’m off to the gym, then I’m meeting Harry for lunch.’
‘Can I come?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘No you can’t. It’s a chance for me to have a chat with him about Katherine. Something you’ve failed on numerous occasions to do.’
From ground level another chorus of trumpets filled the air.
‘For god’s sake,’ Alan groaned.
‘On that note I’m off, I’ll see you later.’
Alan watched as Rosie slipped out of the Kitchen. He looked down at Mr Licky and sighed. ‘I think she’s becoming a bit obsessed with this Katherine thing.’ He leaned on the counter and casually opened a draw. ‘I think I’ll just have another look around for my post.’
Chapter 28
‘Hi Rosie,’ Harry said as he opened the door.
Rosie gave him a smile and held up a carrier bag. ‘I bought lunch. Pizza and wine.’
Harry stepped to one side allowing Rosie to stride past him and into the hall. ‘You didn’t have to do that, but its very kind, thank you,’ he said.
Rosie paused in the hall and looked around. ‘Have you decorated?’
‘Yes, Katherine has been helping me give the place the once over.’ He patted the wall. ‘She knows about interior design and style, so I just left it to her. I think it looks great, don’t you?’
‘Yes, it’s lovely,’ Rosie replied, wondering whether the redecoration would increase the value of the house.
‘Good,’ Harry said. ‘Now, how about we get that bottle of wine open?’
Rosie followed Harry through to the kitchen, placing her bag on the table.
‘No Alan?’ Harry asked as he took the wine from the bag, examining the label.
‘Sorry, he couldn’t make it.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Harry said.
‘Yeah, he’s looking after our neighbour’s dog. Silly sod gave it a big piece of gammon. We thought Alan had killed the poor thing.’
‘Bloody hell,’ was all Harry could say.
‘I know. Turns out he only had a bad case of wind. The dog, not Alan. Well, probably Alan too, but you know what I mean. Anyway, he’s taking the dog for a walk and going to the butchers to get some replacement meat.’
‘I probably shouldn’t ask, but why did he give the dog gammon?’
‘Because he thought it was rubber.’
Harry nodded. ‘I see,’ although he clearly didn’t.
Rosie pulled a chair and slipped onto it. She nervously inspected her finger nails before looking up at Harry.
‘I thought this was a great chance for me and you to have a nice talk. About Katherine.’
Harry grinned like a school kid. ‘What did you think of her? She’s lovely isn’t she?’
‘Well…’ Rosie considered her words carefully. ‘I think she’s very nice, but perhaps a bit youn…’
The doorbell interrupted Rosie mid-sentence.
‘That’ll be her now,’ Harry announced and hurried off to answer the door. ‘I thought it would be great if she joined us for lunch.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Rosie hissed under her breath. This was supposed to be her chance to speak openly to Harry about Katherine. Instead she was now going to have lunch with them and witness first-hand the manipulative minx at work.
Rosie could hear their voices grow louder as they came back down the hall and into the kitchen. She stood as they e
ntered and Katherine came round the table to greet her with, Rosie thought, a little more enthusiasm than the moment warranted.
‘It’s really good to see you,’ Katherine gushed. ‘I was so pleased when Harry told me you were coming over.’ She paused for a moment. ‘Alan not here?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘No, he couldn’t make it. He’s dog sitting.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Katherine said. ‘Does he like dogs?’
Rosie shook her head. ‘He’s not a fan, no.’
‘Why is he looking after it then?’
‘It’s our neighbour’s dog. They’re away for the weekend. I volunteered him for the job, as the dog seems quite fond of him.’
‘That’s so nice of him, to look after someone else’s pet.’
‘I don’t think the neighbours will see it like that if they ever find out Alan almost killed the thing yesterday.’
Katherine let out a shocked squeak. ‘I’m sorry? He did what?’
‘He thought he’d killed the dog yesterday. Luckily it turned out he hadn’t and he just had really bad wind. The dog that is, not Alan.’
‘Oh.’
Harry sidled up next to his girlfriend. ‘Katherine is quite the animal rights campaigner.’
Of course she is, Rosie thought. Instead she said, ‘He’s fine now. It was all a big misunderstanding. Alan wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone.’
‘That’s good,’ Katherine replied, unconvinced.
Harry rubbed his hands together. ‘Right, let’s get this wine open and the pizza in the oven.’
Rosie watched as Harry and Katherine performed an almost choreographed dance around the kitchen. Harry rummaging through a draw before producing a corkscrew, Katherine kneeling to place the pizza in the oven, rising to take three wine glasses from a cupboard, which she passed to Harry and before turning back to the oven and setting the timer.
Rosie looked on in admiration as Harry and Katherine worked together. The last time she and Alan had attempted to cook a meal together, they had just got in each other’s way. They’d ended up with three broken plates and pasta all over the floor. They then sat in stony silence for the rest of the evening. It was nothing like the perfect show of harmony playing out in in front of her.
Harry opened the wine with minimal fuss and filled the three glasses before both he and Katherine sat down.
