Wellies and Westies (6 page)

They pulled her towards a clutch of trees at the edge of the park, and Cat saw the reason why. Was it possible for your heart to sink and beat out of your ribs at the same time? Cat thought it must be as she watched the grey, furry target bouncing across the grass like a Slinky, its tail a giant dandelion clock.

A squirrel.

Of all the bad luck in all the world, she had to find a squirrel on her first outing as a professional dog walker. ‘Come
ON!’
She dug her heels into the grass, but they slid in the mud and she narrowly avoided ending up on her bum. ‘Come on, puppies, please!’

They’d reached the trees. The squirrel had hopped up the trunk of a large oak, so at least Cat could try to get her breath back while all the dogs – Bertha included – tried to climb up after it. Cat could feel the disapproving gaze of every other person in the park burning through her coat, tickling the back of her neck.

‘Please,’ she coaxed, ‘please stop. The squirrel won’t come down while you’re here, you can’t get up there and I promise you –
I
promise
you –’ holding the leads in her left hand, her arm muscles burning, she managed to pull the bag of treats out of her coat pocket – ‘squirrel does not taste as nice as these.’ She shook the bag. The dogs didn’t notice.

Cat swallowed down a wave of despair.

‘Look, Disco! Chalky! Valentino, Bertha! Squirrel meat is tough, and it’s all gristle with no flavour at all. Treats are
better
than squirrel.’

‘Are you speaking from experience?’ a voice said. ‘I’d love to know when you’ve eaten squirrel.’

For a second Cat thought that Mr Jasper had followed her, but the voice was different and the strain on her arm disappeared as a hand gripped the leads, taking all the pressure. She risked turning her head, and found herself staring into the eyes of a man who, it seemed, had come to rescue her. Cat felt a jolt of recognition. She’d seen him and his dog before, had seen him watching her through the park railings the day she’d lost her job.

‘How else do you suppose I get them to stop trying to climb the tree?’ She should be grateful, but his flippancy when she was so flustered made her instantly defensive.

‘You think that they’re going to listen to your culinary advice?’

He was walking backwards, forcing her to move with him as the leads were still wrapped round her hand, and as he did so, the dogs, resisting at first, realized the game was up and turned away from their conquest. Disco bounded up to Cat’s rescuer and put her paws on his jeans. He let go of the leads and lifted Disco into his arms, just as his collie dog, tongue lolling, trotted up and sat at his feet.

Cat felt her annoyance rise. His dog didn’t try and antagonize Bertha or the Westies who, tired out by their chase, gave the new dog a cursory sniff and settled down on the grass. Here, they were sheltered by the trees, the rain still falling beyond their natural canopy.

‘What are you?’ Cat asked. ‘Some kind of dog whisperer?’

He laughed, and while Disco struggled in his arms, Cat had the opportunity to look at him up close. His black-brown hair was expertly dishevelled, just asking to be ruffled, and his leather jacket – the same one as before – was worn at the elbows. He had the beginnings of stubble and there was amusement in his dark eyes. Was that amusement aimed at her? She was sure he’d been watching her before, and now here he was again; stepping in to help her.

Her irritation was swiftly replaced by curiosity.

‘I’m Cat,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘Thank you for…for that, back there. With the squirrel.’

‘No problem.’ He smiled at her and took her hand. ‘I’m Mark. And this –’ he nodded towards the collie – ‘is Chips. We’re new to the area.’

‘Chips?’

‘After Chips in
Dawn of the Dead.
The remake, obviously.’

‘You named your dog after a zombie? That’s not very kind. How long have you been in Fairview?’

Mark blinked at her and ran a hand over his jawline. It was quite pointy, quite determined, Cat thought, if jaws can be determined. ‘A few weeks. You’ve not seen it then,
Dawn of the Dead
?’

Cat shook her head.

‘Chips is the dog, unsurprisingly, rather than a zombie. She’s a hero – she saves the main characters from certain death. I’m splitting my time between here and London – it’s lovely round here, very…peaceful.’

‘Are you training your dog to survive a zombie apocalypse? What happens to her when you’re in London?’

‘Chips wouldn’t need training, she’d know exactly what to do.’ He grinned at her with white, even teeth.

Cat decided his jawline wasn’t determined, it was smug, but he was a potential punter all the same. This was too good an opportunity to miss. ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ she said. ‘I could always look after Chips for you when you’re back in London – feed her, take her for walks.’

‘That’s a very kind – and unexpected – offer. She’s fine with me – she can cope on her own for a few hours if I’m working. Do you always go around offering to look after strangers’ pets, or am I special?’

‘Oh, oh, no, I mean…’ Cat felt heat rush to her cheeks. ‘It’s what I do. I wasn’t just…offering.’ She shrugged.

‘Ah.’ Mark nodded. ‘So all these dogs aren’t yours, then?’ Disco was burrowing into the crook of his arm, her stumpy tail wagging as if her life depended on it.

‘No,’ Cat said. ‘I’m walking them.’

‘Sure it’s that way round?’

Cat gritted her teeth and gave him a tight smile. ‘This is just…I’m still working out the best combinations, the easiest way to run things. Big dogs and little dogs together are a bit of a handful.’

‘They are,’ he agreed. ‘I’m not sure Primrose Park knows what’s hit it. And who’s this little guy? Come out, buster.’ He lifted Disco up, and the puppy started licking his chin. ‘Hey.’ Mark laughed and put her on the ground.

‘She’s a girl. Disco,’ Cat said. Something flashed in her mind, making her do a double take. She looked at Mark, but he was intent on the puppy and all the love she had to give. ‘And Chalky’s the older mini schnauzer and the Westies are Valentino, Coco and Dior. That’s Bertha.’ She pointed at the largest dog, who was staring out across the park, looking noble.

Mark pressed his lips together and looked at the ground.

‘I didn’t name them. God, I wish I’d never said anything now.’

‘It’s an impressive outing,’ Mark nodded, unable to hide his smirk. ‘And you’ve done well, considering.’

‘Considering?’ Cat shot back.

‘Considering how unruly they are.’

‘Well, I’m glad I’ve met with your approval.’

‘I’m very happy to give it.’ He was entirely unruffled, which had the opposite effect on Cat.

‘Are you always like this?’

‘Like what?’

‘Incredibly patronizing.’

‘I wasn’t aware that I was being. I saw you were struggling, came over to help, and—’

‘Yes, thanks for that, I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine now that Squirrelgate’s over. Nice meeting you.’ She tried to walk coolly off, but Disco was intent on spending more time with her new friend, and Valentino had managed to get his lead wrapped round Bertha’s, so her aloof departure didn’t happen. Mark bent down to untangle the leads. ‘Thanks,’ she said shortly, ‘again.’

‘No problem…again.’ She could feel his smirk.

Cat turned in the direction of the park gate. Within moments Bertha was once again in front, and Cat’s sore hand stung in the wind. The rain was coming down harder now, running in rivulets off her jacket, her short hair plastered to her forehead. She risked a glance behind her, and saw that Mark was still watching her, Chips sitting at his feet, the tennis ball in her mouth. He was attaching a lead to her collar, but raised a hand when she turned. Cat looked quickly ahead and tripped over Disco, only just managing to catch her balance before she fell, sprawling, into the middle of her pack of pets.

Cheeks burning, she picked up her pace. She had to admit that, despite her best efforts, her first proper outing as a dog walker had not gone smoothly. Still, she would learn from her mistakes, and next time she strolled into Fairview Park she’d be completely in control, as serene as a swan, even if the bloody squirrel made another appearance. She was torn between never wanting to see smug Mark and Chips again, and hoping that he’d be there to see her moment of triumph.

‘I’ll show them,’ she said to her suddenly well-behaved pooches. ‘I’ll show them just how effective I can be with my dogs.
Fairview
Park won’t know what’s hit it. I mean,’ she said to Bertha, who was padding alongside her, her short golden coat rubbing against Cat’s leg as they walked, ‘he acts all smug but he doesn’t even know what the park’s called. It’s not
Primrose
Pa—’ She stopped, the spark she’d felt earlier exploding into clarity. ‘Oh! That’s very strange.’ She glanced behind her, but Mark was no longer there. ‘What’s going on there, I wonder? What do you think, Bertha? Do you think I should try and find out?’ She took the dog’s easy silence as assent, and with her curiosity radar once more set to high, Cat made her way back to Primrose Terrace.

‘It wasn’t as bad as all that,’ Cat said. ‘It was a…lesson in dog management.’ She was sitting on Elsie’s sofa, brushing Chalky’s fur. She’d dried each of the dogs with a towel as she returned them, and the mini schnauzers looked like they’d been through a spin-cycle. ‘They saw a squirrel, and I’m sure the most experienced dog walker would have struggled to control a braying mob like mine.’ Chalky looked up at her and pressed his cold nose against her chin. ‘I wasn’t talking about you,’ Cat whispered. ‘You were a gentleman – almost.’

‘But you made it back at least, no harm to any of them.’

‘They didn’t bite each other. They all seemed to get on fine, it was me they ganged up on.’

Elsie shook her head and stroked Disco. She was wearing a raspberry-coloured cardigan, her neat white bob perfectly in place. ‘Dogs do sense emotions in humans, much more than I think we realize. I expect they knew that you were nervous, and thought they could have a bit of extra fun at your expense. You need to be more confident.’

‘I need to be left to get on with it, is what I need.’ Cat took a long swig of tea. It burned her throat, but she enjoyed the warmth after such a cold, wet walk.

‘I thought this man rescued you?’

‘He did. But he was smug about it. Ooooh,
so
smug, Elsie, you wouldn’t believe. Everything about him is smug, his trendy frayed leather jacket, his stubble, his jawline.’

‘He has a smug jawline?’ Elsie looked sceptical.

‘It’s the most smug thing about him.
But
…’
Cat narrowed her eyes.

‘But?’

‘What do you know about Jessica?’

‘Jessica the author? Owner of your Westies?’

Cat nodded. ‘Is she married?’

‘Divorced, a couple of years ago now. She’s clearly unsettled, because the house has been up for sale several times since then, but it always comes off the market again. I suppose she might not be around for much longer.’

‘She did say she’d had a hard time recently. She was quite honest about it, considering we’d only just met.’ Cat thought of Jessica’s sad eyes, and then the Westies. Their soft white fur, their open, eager expressions. They hadn’t been
that
bad today, and who could hold a grudge against such pretty dogs? Already, she would miss them if they weren’t there. ‘What about now?’

‘Came off the market again two weeks ago,’ Elsie said with a smile, clearly happy that she had the answers to Cat’s questions.

‘Which means…?’

‘She’s found a reason to stay in Fairview?’

‘
Exactly!’
Cat leaned forward, her voice rising, making Chalky jump. She held on to the old dog, unprepared to relinquish his warmth.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Mark.’

‘Smug Mark in the park?’

‘If you have to use his full title. He said he was new here, and the “To Let
”
sign recently came down outside number four.’

‘Good detecting,’ Elsie said. ‘But why do you suppose he’s the one who’s moved in there? Have you seen him?’

‘No, I’ve only seen him a couple of times, in the park. But he said something that makes me think he and Jessica know each other.’

‘Which was?’

‘He called it Primrose Park. Have you ever heard anyone call it that? I mean, it’s not even
on
Primrose Terrace – it’s a road back – so why would you give it the wrong name?’

‘No idea. What has this got to do with Jessica?’

‘Guess who else called it Primrose Park.’

Elsie’s eyes widened. She sipped her tea thoughtfully. ‘That does seem quite coincidental. Good for Jessica. I don’t know her well, but by all accounts she’s had a rough time – there was a lot of speculation in the press about her ex-husband. She deserves some happiness.’

Cat nodded, her hands going over Chalky’s ears again and again. He was asleep now, his breaths turning to snores, his back leg twitching as in his dreams he caught the squirrel. ‘And Jessica said things were looking up – she hinted that there might be someone else. But then he didn’t seem to recognize her dogs, or maybe he was pretending not to. I wonder…’ she murmured.

‘Wonder what?’

‘Well, Mark seemed
so
smug, and flirtatious. He seemed like he’d be…I don’t know. If she’s had a bad break-up, if she’s had her heart broken…Maybe I should – should find out a bit more about him.’

‘Cat.’ There was a warning in Elsie’s voice.

‘She seemed so lovely and trusting when I met her. She gave me spare keys to her house after five minutes. You’d think someone in the public eye would be more cautious and I just…I don’t want her to get hurt.’

‘You barely know her.’

‘But I’m going to, if I’m going to be walking her dogs, and I think that Mark might…’

‘Might what? Not be right for her? Cat, how on earth can you think that after having met each of them for five minutes? You’re inventing things.’

‘I’m trying to be helpful.’

‘Don’t you want to focus on building up your business
walking dogs
to begin with, rather than inserting yourself into your clients’ private lives?’