Sunshine and Spaniels (7 page)

‘He had big gooey eyes all over you,’ Emma said, looking up from her dessert. ‘Just like his ice cream.’

Cat laughed, full and loud. ‘“Big gooey eyes”,’ she repeated. ‘I think I know exactly what you mean. How’s your pistachio ice cream, Pol?’

Polly gave Cat her
Midwich Cuckoo
stare and stuck her spoon in the banana split; she picked up a huge dollop of ice cream and, still looking at Cat, shoved it in her mouth.

Cat chuckled and picked up her own spoon. She knew Polly well enough to see that Owen Capello, with his ice creams and his dog, had definitely had an effect on her. Cat hoped her friend wouldn’t be too cross when she discovered that it was Polly’s number she’d scrawled on the piece of paper, and not her own.

On their way back from the beach, Cat saw Captain strolling along ahead of them, a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his arm. Their party of dogs and children was subdued, Cat and Polly – and the beach – having tired them out. She thought she could leave them in Polly’s capable hands for a couple of minutes.

‘I won’t be a second,’ Cat said, handing over the Westies’ leads to Polly. She raced up and tapped Captain on the shoulder.

‘Hi, Captain. It’s Cat – remember me, from the Pooches’ and Puppies’ Picnic?’

‘Oh, yes, I remember you and your chap,’ he nodded, squinting against the sun. ‘Elsie’s friend.’

‘That’s right. I was just wondering, how’s Paris doing? Is she any better?’

Captain’s friendly gaze dropped to the ground, and Cat felt his whole demeanour change. ‘She’s worse if anything. I had a battle to try and get her out today – just to the shop for the paper, I said to her, but she wasn’t having any of it. She hid in my washing machine until I left. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Let me have a think,’ Cat said, putting her hand on his arm. ‘I can ask around, visit a couple of online forums.’

Captain sighed and put his hand on top of hers. ‘You’d do that?’

‘Of course. I know I’m just a dog walker, but I hate seeing any animals – especially of the canine variety – upset. If there’s anything I can do to make Paris better, then I will.’

‘Bless you,’ Captain said.

‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.’ Cat gave his hand a squeeze and ran back to join the others.

‘What was that about?’ Polly asked.

‘Just trying to help out,’ Cat shrugged.

‘Oh.’ Polly tried to hide her smile. ‘That’s unusual for you.’

Cat rolled her eyes and halted their party at the zebra crossing.

Chapter 4

Polly had been stunned, and Cat triumphant, that they had survived their first babysitting duties. Henry had only had one bout of uncontrollable screaming, and that was once they’d gone back to Frankie’s house and Cat had made some food for them all. No children or dogs had fallen in the sea, and Emma and Lizzie had gone to sleep happy, Emma prolonging her bedtime by insisting on walking two steps up, one step down, all the way to her bedroom. But when Frankie had returned, close to midnight and almost too exhausted to speak, Cat knew that walking Olaf and occasionally looking after her children wasn’t going to be enough.

Summer in Fairview was proving to be glorious. A hazy May turned into a hot, fresh June, and with the summer holidays on the horizon, Pooch Promenade was picking up. Cat had had a couple of requests to look after dogs while families went on holiday and, as much as she didn’t want to turn down business, she had to remind herself that she was only one-and-a-half-people strong, and being the sole carer for dogs for more than a few days at a time wasn’t yet practical.

Polly’s exams were only a couple of months away, and while her friend was hidden inside revising, Cat was spending most of her time outdoors, often doing three walks a day. She’d never considered that she’d have a job where sunburn was an occupational hazard.

‘Owowowwwwwww.’

‘Hold still, because it won’t work if you won’t let me put it on.’ Polly was kneeling on the sofa, applying cold aloe vera cream to Cat’s neck and shoulders. ‘This stuff is meant to be soothing. You’re not acting very soothed.’

‘It is soothing, but it burns too.’

‘It’s very pink.’

‘How pink?’ She knew she should have worn a T-shirt rather than a strappy top, but it was such a warm day, no clouds in the sky, and she liked the breeze against her skin. Of course, that combination was what had done it.

‘Ummmm,’ Polly said, obviously trying to think of something nice to say.

‘A giant lobster,’ said another voice.

‘Thanks, Joe,’ Cat winced. ‘I will never fail to be amazed at your ability to make a girl feel special.’

‘It’s one of my many talents.’ He went into the kitchen and Cat heard the fridge door open. ‘That does look sore.’

‘Says the man who just has to look at the sun to go brown. How come that happens when you’re so blonde?’

‘Another of my many talents,’ he called. ‘I’m a talented guy.’

‘We thought we might go to the pub,’ Polly said.

‘I’m not sure the Lobster Cat should sit in the beer garden.’

‘We weren’t going to sit outside. And if you think, for even one moment, that I’m going to be happy with that nickname, then you can think again.’

Joe popped his head around the door and grinned. ‘It has a certain ring to it.’

Cat pointed at him. ‘No.’

‘Coming, Joey? We’re going to have an evening of de-stress. Exams, dogs, struggling neighbours.’

Joe narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re still trying to save that mum?’

‘I’m not trying to
save
her, I just want to help.’

‘You can’t help everyone, Cat.’ He had his irritated tone back, and Cat felt as though she was being told off by her old maths teacher, even if Joe was
much
easier on the eye. ‘Eventually,’ he continued, ‘your brain will run out of space, and you’ll be so busy helping other people that you’ll start to neglect yourself. You’ll stop washing, stop eating. You’ll slowly lose your dress sense and have this one cow-print onesie that you run up and down the street in, looking for new crusades.’

Cat and Polly looked at him. Polly had stopped mid-squirt, and Cat could feel the cold lotion running down her back.

‘It sounds like you’ve been thinking about that for far too long,’ Cat said.

‘It’s an observation. You’ll morph into the town busybody and people will turn in the opposite direction when they see you.’

‘You think I should stop trying to help?’

‘I think you need to stop interfering.’

Cat glared at him, but she felt a coldness that was nothing to do with after-sun. Was that really how she was seen by everyone? It was true that dog walking was allowing her to meet lots of new people and, due to the nature of looking after their pets, find out about them. But interfering? She knew she’d done that to a certain extent when she’d thought Jessica and Mark were together, but she hadn’t gone too far, and things had turned out all right in the end.

More than all right. She gave a little shudder when she thought of the kiss.

‘Are you OK?’ Polly asked. ‘I’m nearly done.’

Mark hadn’t been in touch much since then, and their few text conversations had been fleeting. He was busy working on amendments to his script, popping backwards and forwards to London but, the last couple of occasions, taking Chips with him, so she couldn’t even spend time with his dog.

Joe sat on the sofa and started demolishing a cheese toastie.

‘I thought we could eat at the pub.’

Joe shook his head. ‘I can’t come. I’m behind on a commission, got to spend the evening doodling away.’

‘Something fun?’ Cat asked. She wasn’t going to make a thing of what Joe had said. If that’s what he thought, then she’d just have to let him think it and move on.

‘A new logo for a shoe shop in Fairhaven. It’s a good job, but not the most creatively challenging.’

‘Nothing…more cartoony?’ Cat thought back to her conversation with Phil at the Pooches’ Picnic. She wondered if he’d contacted Joe.

‘Nope,’ Joe mumbled through a mouthful of sandwich. ‘No such luck.’

Cat shrugged, then winced as her tight skin cracked. The doorbell chose that moment to trill through the living room, and Polly went to answer it.

Joe kept his gaze on Cat, and she looked at her knee, picking a bit of hair off it. Ginger hair. She wondered how Shed was coping with the hot weather, thought of him trotting along Mark’s wall, looking very unlike the solid, immovable lump she knew, but then Polly led Frankie into the living room and all thoughts of the cat disappeared.

‘Frankie, what’s wrong?’ Cat stood and put her hand on Frankie’s arm. She was wearing black trousers and a black T-shirt with
Spatz
written in red, but her face was pink and puffy, her long hair loose, some strands sticking to her mascara-streaked cheeks. ‘Sit down. Do you want a drink?’

Frankie shook her head, sniffed loudly and perched on the edge of the sofa Joe was sitting on. She glanced at him and Joe raised a hand in greeting. ‘I-I can’t stay long,’ she said, ‘I’ve left Lizzie with the others, and I need to get back. But I—’ She inhaled, closed her eyes, then seemed to give her whole body a shake. She opened her eyes and sat up straight. ‘I got fired today,’ she said. ‘They wanted me to give the top back, but I told them I wasn’t walking home in my bra.’

‘Oh God,’ Polly said. ‘I’m so sorry, Frankie.’

‘What happened?’ Cat asked. ‘What did they do?’

‘Henry wasn’t well this morning, so I took him to the doctor’s. I called work, told them I’d be late and why, and they said if I was late then I shouldn’t bother turning up. I thought they were joking.’

‘How can they fire you because your son was ill? Is he OK now?’

Frankie nodded. ‘He’s got a virus. It should clear up in a couple of days. But I’m not going to ignore my kids when they’re ill or they need something. The reason I’m doing this job is so that I can look after them. It’s just bullshit.’

Polly seemed taken aback by the expletive, but Cat was pleased Frankie was angry – angry was productive, misery was not.

‘Right then,’ she said, ‘so what are you going to do? Get a new job? Ask for your old one back?’

‘I’m never going back there, not for a million quid. I’ll get a new job, but…but I was thinking about what you said. A few weeks ago.’

Polly and Cat exchanged a glance. Polly drummed her fingers against her lips. ‘About the attic?’

Frankie nodded. ‘It’s not doing anything, sitting up there full of junk. I think we could cope with a lodger, as long as – as long as they could cope with us.’

‘You’re a lovely family,’ Polly said softly. ‘If they understand your life’s always going to be a bit hectic, then I’m sure you’ll find someone.’

‘And who wouldn’t want to live on Primrose Terrace?’ Cat raised her hands up to the ceiling. ‘In this house alone you can have all your dog walking, pet rescuing and scribbling needs sorted.’

Frankie frowned, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. She brushed hair out of her eyes. ‘Scribbling?’

‘I’m an illustrator,’ Joe said, finishing his sandwich.

‘Do you do kids’ books?’

He shook his head. ‘Branding, websites, logos. That sort of thing.’

‘He was going to do me a dog cartoon for the Pooch Promenade logo
,
’ Cat explained to Frankie.

‘I’ve started it,’ Joe sighed. ‘I’m just tied up with paid work at the moment.’

‘You know I’ll pay you – you said you didn’t want me to.’

‘I don’t. I’ll do your cartoon next, and for free, but I need to get this commission finished. When have I said no to you before, Cat?’

‘I can think of one or two occasions.’

Frankie looked between them and raised an eyebrow. ‘God, how long have you two been married?’ She sniffed loudly, then smiled.

Polly laughed. ‘See what I have to put up with?’

‘So this room then,’ Cat said quickly. ‘When shall we get started?’

It was a bright, sunny day, Cat was sure, somewhere beyond this landing, with its full washing basket containing a pile of colourful clothes and a small cocker spaniel. The room behind them, door ajar, was a pink palace: pink bedding, candy-floss walls, pink curtains that were still closed and turning the light a deep fuchsia colour.

Henry was asleep in the pram downstairs; Frankie hadn’t wanted to wake him after dropping Emma off at nursery. She was standing with Polly and Cat, looking up at the narrow flight of stairs that led to the closed attic door. At least whoever had done the conversion had fitted a proper staircase – Cat had had visions of lugging a load of boxes down, and then furniture up, a wooden stepladder.

‘So this is it,’ Polly said.

‘This,’ Frankie said, sighing, ‘is it. Sure you want to help with this?’

Cat folded her arms and nodded. ‘Of course.’ It wasn’t only dark on the landing, it was stuffy, and she could feel beads of sweat pooling at the waistband of her shorts. Her sunburn had begun to fade, and peel, and start to itch. ‘We came up with the idea, and we’re going to see it through.’

‘All right,’ Frankie said. ‘But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ She gave them a grim smile and climbed the stairs. Olaf hopped out of the washing basket and followed her up, his claws ticking on the wooden steps.

Frankie opened the door and dust escaped, dancing below the ceiling light. ‘Oh my God!’ She closed the door.

Olaf barked.

‘What?’ Polly asked, panic at the edge of her voice. ‘What is it?’

‘Dead body?’ Cat asked. ‘Family of rats, mice, sparrows?’

Frankie stared at them, her mouth open.

‘Have you realized you’ve already got a lodger, just one you didn’t know about?’ Cat climbed the stairs and slid past Frankie, opening the door. Olaf stood just inside, his tail wagging.

‘Oh,’ Cat said, when she saw the challenge they were faced with. ‘OK. I see what you mean.’

‘What is it?’ Polly asked. ‘I’m about to die of suspense here.’

‘It’s…a treasure trove.’

‘It’s a crap hole,’ Frankie corrected.

‘Everyone has a different perspective, don’t they?’

From where Cat was standing, she could see boxes and boxes, some open, some closed, stacked almost up to the angled ceiling. There were crates with books in, an old standard lamp with the wiring spilling out, a clutch of broken umbrellas and what looked like a miniature totem pole. The air was thick with dust. It crept into Cat’s nose and mouth and eyes, making her blink. Olaf barked, skittered a bit and then sneezed. Cat picked him up and he buried his warm nose under her chin.