Narrow Minds (21 page)

Turning a distraught face toward me she pointed out of the window. Following her gaze I spied a short, squat black and tan dog holding something down with his paws. ‘What's he got?'

‘A squirrel.' Charlie banged on the window again, the dog looked toward her with a happy grin. ‘Stupid dog.'

We watched as the dog, tail wagging, took a step toward the boat. Taking the opportunity to escape, its rather ruffled victim shot out from between its paws and straight up the nearest tree where it disappeared into the leaves.

‘I really don't like those dogs at all,' I said and shook my head, ‘new rule, when we decide to get a dog you can have anything but a staffy, I really don't know why so many people like them.'

Charlie nodded vigorously.

‘Hmm.' I stared out of the window, then had a thought. ‘Mind you the squirrel can't have been very bright being caught by one of those lumpets, I mean let's face it they aren't exactly streamlined and they certainly can't climb trees.

Charlie raised her eyebrows as she considered that. ‘Good point,' she finally conceded, 'maybe the squirrel had suicidal tendencies and threw itself out of that tall tree in front of a dog that has fairly bad eyesight, a complete lack of speed and agility, and very little brain. Good grief, it must have been desperate.'

I nodded. ‘Do you think it had to jump up and down for a while, wearing a sign saying ‘I taste like chicken' before the staffy noticed it?'

Charlie nodded sagely. ‘Probably jumped out of a tree while blowing a horn.'

We watched for a while as the dog meandered about at the bottom of the tree, finally I couldn't stand it any more and, knowing that there was no way I would leave a lost dog alone, I went outside, trying to ignore the kids staring worriedly out of the window at me. ‘Careful, Mum,' Charlie shouted, ‘he's quite big, he may be a pit bull.'

‘Great,' I muttered to myself, ‘that's exactly what I needed to hear.'

I meandered over toward the dog, stopping only when it noticed me and whipped around to stare, its stocky body held entirely still, tiny, golden eyes unblinking as it watched me. I was slightly relieved to notice that its tail was slowly wagging. I slowly put my hand into my pocket and brought out a little packet of cheese cubes, taking out one I put it into my mouth and chewed slowly.

The effect was instantaneous: the dog broke into a run and came at me, jaws flapping. Knowing there was no way I could outrun it I stood still and looked determinedly away into the distance. The bite never came. I looked down to find a pair of eyes fixed on the cheese packet and the dog sitting at my feet in a perfect begging position. Paws up, eyes open, mouth hanging wide open in a pink grin, he was so cute and looked so expectant I couldn't resist giving him a pat as well as a piece of cheese.

We sat there for a couple of minutes, him performing tricks for cheese, he could sit, beg, hold out alternate paws and lie down. Once the cheese was finished he came and sat on my lap and attacked my ears with his tongue.I was just about to look for a telephone number on his collar when a deep voice pulled me up short.

‘Oh, sorry, is he being a bother?' The dog leapt off my lap with a happy squeak and rushed over to a tall man who was holding the hand of a small blonde girl.

‘Hi, no, not at all,' I looked over at the dog who was jumping around the child. ‘He was on his own so I came out to see if he had a name tag.'

The man smiled down at the dog and clipped on a lead. ‘He's usually very good but one of the squirrels did a fly-past right under his nose and he took off after it.'

‘He caught it.' I grinned down at the dog.

‘Really?' The man looked surprised. ‘Oh no is it, erm, demised?' He gave a nervous look at his daughter.

‘Oh no, no,' I assured him, ‘it escaped and ran up that tree.'

‘Thank goodness for that.' He smiled with real affection down at the dog. ‘One squirrel saved from being licked to death.' He held his hand out for the little girl to take and then passed her the lead. ‘Anyway, thanks for looking out for him.' He gave me a wave then turned to the family, ‘Come on then, Emily, do you have Tosca's lead held tight this time?'

The little girl nodded and they all moved off down the path.

I turned to find Charlie standing behind me. ‘He was quite sweet actually,' I informed her.

‘Oh, Mum, you worry too much.' She stared at the backs of the departing family. ‘I always knew that type of dog would be fine, it's just the owners, not the dogs.'

She gave me a big grin and disappeared back into the boat leaving me with my mouth open, I really couldn't think of anything to say.

By the time Geoff returned, the rain was coming down in sheets and I have to admit it took a fair amount of willpower for us to struggle into our waterproofs and get out on to the back deck. Within a couple of hours Billing Aquadome floated past on our left and we headed off toward Wellingborough.

The rain obviously wasn't going to let up at all and Geoff, finally unable to take the gibbering, jittering, moaning thing standing next to him at the tiller (me), sent me inside to light a fire. Before I left we decided that although we actually had the time to get to Rushden & Diamonds we would stop for the night in Wellingborough and take a run across the park to Tesco, treat ourselves to something naughty for tea and settle down by our fire and watch Doctor Who while eating something sticky and horrible.

Pulling into Wellingborough at about four-thirty, I helped tie us up then went back to gently feeding wood into the fire. There was no way I was going outside to chop the wood into fire-sized pieces, so had rolled back the rug and was chopping it on the floor by the fire, much to Charlie's disgust.

‘You never let me do that,' she griped, ‘I always had to go outside.'

‘Hmm,' I agreed, ‘that's because armed with a small axe you have the tendency to become a close relative of Attila the Hun and attack everything within a three foot radius.' I paused ‘You're a danger to yourself and everyone around you.'

Charlie watched me miss the piece of wood I was holding completely and bury the axe half an inch into the wooden floor. ‘And of course, you're so much better at it than I am.' She flounced away to complain to Geoff about parental double standards, leaving me to hurriedly cover the chop marks in the floor with another piece of wood and arrange my facial features into something suitably innocent.

Watching the torrential rain outside, it had been decided by vote that we'd watch
Dr Who
first then with luck it would have eased off a little. Geoff was feeling in a good mood as it seemed that most of the windows had stopped leaking and we now only had two that were still letting in water, they had a bucket each to stop the floor from rotting away beneath them.

‘Has anyone seen my lighter? I know I had it here a minute ago.' I scanned the area around the fire. That was very odd, I had just been using it to re-light the fire for the third time. With it being so new, we were only supposed to place small fires to allow it to expand and contract, we'd had about four now and I was getting heartily tired of not being able to put some coal on and have it banked for the night.

Nobody even looked up, they were all mesmerised by the Doctor's antics. I have to admit I adore David Tennant but the lack of my lighter meant that the fire was cooling rapidly. ‘Come on guys, don't ignore me. Who's got my lighter?'

Geoff silently stuck his hand in his pocket and handed me another one. ‘That's not mine.' Looking at the rapt faces I gave up. ‘Oh never mind, I'll use this one.'

Pilling handfuls of woodchips around a single fire lighter I set fire to a spill of paper and started the whole thing going again. When the initial tinder was burning brightly I used both hands to round up as much of the wood shavings and chopping bits that I could find, then, placing them on the fire I began to layer on kindling.

‘Do you think we could put some coal on this tonight?' I asked Geoff while staring longingly through the glass at the tiny little fire, ‘This rain is just getting heavier and my feet feel like little blocks of ice …' I was interrupted by a ‘WHUMPH!!' noise, the fire sort of shuddered and smoke puffed from every joint, hinge and glass plate. Throwing myself backwards, away from the fire, I crashed at the feet of those sitting on the sofa, sending cups of tea and glasses of lemonade spiralling away under the sofa. Charlie jumped to her feet, one hand over her mouth to protect herself from the clouds of smoke that had billowed from the fire and were now lurking above our heads and the other holding tight to Sam's arm (I don't know what she thought she was protecting him from). ‘What the hell was that?' she screamed at me.

Hoping that it wasn't going to do it again I gingerly crept forward and opened the glass door. The short sharp explosion had scattered the fledgling fire and even as I opened the door the glowing bits of wood were already dying away.

‘I have no idea.' I poked around in the dying embers then, deciding that it would be easier to clear the whole fire out, I riddled it hard and dragged out the ash pan.

There in the centre of the ash pan, glowing red hot, was the remains of my lighter. It was quite sad really, all that remained was the now scarred and dented metal cap, the wheel and a small piece of melted plastic. The rest of the gas container had obviously blown apart and then melted in the fire. I stared at it for a moment. ‘Erm … ah!'

Geoff peered over my shoulder and shook his head sadly. ‘Well at least you found your lighter.'

Charlie caught on really quickly. ‘You threw your lighter on the fire?' she laughed.

Sam joined in. ‘Wouldn't that cause an explosion?' he asked without taking his eyes off the telly.

‘Well, duh, Sam,' Charlie sneered, ‘what do you think that big bang was?'

‘I dunno,' Sam muttered, ‘would you get out of the way please, look, the Daleks are on.'

I sighed, obviously my son was one of ‘that' generation who felt that science fantasy and made-up stuff was far more exciting that an explosion in your own home.

For the next hour I dithered, coming up with excuses not to relight the fire just in case it went bang again, (or whumph!) Finally Geoff decided that we needed to go to Tesco and, as there was a slight break in the rain, we decided to make a dash for it, then light the fire when we got home.

Getting two children into waterproofs and out into a dark night to walk across a deserted park met with more than the normal amount of resistance. Heading for the lights of the supermarket, Charlie and Sam stayed unusually close to us. I could see their point. Empty parks are quite spooky, swings moving in the wind howling across the open spaces, and although I muttered comforting things to the kids even I was a bit freaked out and pleased to step on to the tarmac of the main road.

After an hour in Tesco, we were completely loaded up with shopping – UHT milk, bread – staring at all the tins and packets I decided that it would be a really, really good idea to sort out a fridge. I was fed up with my coffee tasting like it had chemicals in it and I had already lost two large slices of Brie when it had turned into Brie soup in the afternoon sun. I was devastated, I had really been looking forward to eating it.

But a fridge would have to wait, our electrics were temperamental and our bank balance was laughable. So we hoisted our bags and stepped away from the bright ‘come hither' lights of the supermarket and headed towards the park, heads down and hoods up in a desperate attempt to keep dry.

The wind and the rain, which had stopped just long enough for us to get to the supermarket, had returned with a vengeance and together they made walking an arduous slog. We staggered across the park only occasionally glancing up to make sure we were going in the right direction.

It was nearly impossible to see more than about five feet ahead so when a figure, accompanied by what appeared to be a dead rat on a piece of string, leapt out of the gloom right beside me I couldn't stop a little scream from escaping.

The figure stepped closer and a pair of glittering eyes peered at me from beneath a plastic hood. ‘Sorry, love, didn't mean to scare you.'

Taking a deep breath in order to calm my racing heart, I grinned at him. ‘Don't worry my fault, I had my head down against this wind and didn't see you.' I struggled to talk as the screaming wind and rain kept sweeping my voice away over the river.

‘Yup, it's a bit larey tonight.' He laughed. ‘But I have to make sure that Joe here gets his walk.'

There, in a rapidly expanding puddle sat the saddest little dog I have ever seen. It was probably a Yorkshire terrier, but it was tiny and so completely soaked that it resembled a badly wrung-out dish mop in a plastic bag. Either unwilling or unable to buy it a proper coat, its master had purloined one of those elderly lady plastic rain hats, cut four holes in it for Joe's legs and tied it up under his stomach. The bright yellow daisies that decorated the clear plastic didn't really make it look any better, and the peak which sat around his neck like a vampire's fantasy collar just caught the rain and channelled it down poor Joe's back. The unfortunate animal sat on the floor, little legs akimbo and alternated between sneezing and licking the drops of water off its nose.

‘Loves his walk does Joe,' the old man said, ‘can't go a day without a walk. It wouldn't be good for him, so here we are out in all weathers.' Joe started to shiver.

‘He does look as if he's enjoying himself.' I managed not to laugh as the poor little thing crept closer to his master's foot and settled under his long mac, then began sneezing again.

‘Well, he can go on for hours, but it's definitely time for me to get back to my kettle and fire.' Giving me a wave he turned away. ‘Come on, Joe, time for dinner.'

Joe perked up an ear at the word dinner but unfortunately didn't manage to get out of the way of the swinging coat and got himself knocked face first into the wet grass. Completely oblivious to the plight of his pet, the old man sauntered away across the field dragging Joe on his back, he was now completely tangled in his long thin lead.