A New Chapter

Jack hadn’t woken when his aunt left the flat for her early morning flight. Instead, it was the whining of his new charge that brought him around.

The first thing he did was to check himself over.

His head was clear and his stomach seemed to have recovered from the ordeal of his aunt’s home cooking.

While he dressed, he tuned in to Sheba’s cries. Her whimper pierced his heart and filled him, once again, with the melancholy he was supposed to leaving behind.

“I’m coming,” he shouted. “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”

Only it clearly wasn’t.

Sheba lay curled in her bed, the white tip of her tail and the flash on her nose did nothing to detract from the impression of black. She looked up at Jack dolefully when he went to fetch her.

“Come on girl.” Jack did his best to inject some enthusiasm into his tone and ended up sounding like Mrs Nichols, his favourite primary school teacher. “Breakfast time.”

The pitch of the whine rose further. It was enough to break a man’s heart.

“Here, wait a minute.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the treats. “Look, girl. Bone biscuits.”

She still didn’t move.

Jack bent down and put the treat in front of her nose, then put his hand on her head to give a reassuring stroke.

“We’ll get through it, you’ll see. Aunt Em will be on the plane now. She’s probably tucking in to the free gin and tonics right now.”

Sheba’s eyes moistened as if she were about to burst into tears.

“It could be worse, you know. You could have ended up in that kennel they closed down. That would have been no fun at all.” It was true. Emma had made Jack read the newspaper article about The K9 Motel. It hadn’t been pretty. “Let’s get some breakfast shall we?”

He patted his thighs and clicked his fingers.

Nothing.

“Suit yourself. I’m starving. That food your mum served out wasn’t fit for a...” He checked himself before he insulted Sheba’s entire species. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you want me. Soon as I’m done, we’ll get out there for your constitutional.”

In the kitchen, everything was immaculate. There was a place set for him and a Kellogg’s Selection pack had been left for out. Aunt Emma seemed to be stuck in a world where Jack was a child and her husband was still around.

He ripped open the cellophane wrapper and picked out the Coco Pops. He dealt with the packaging and poured the cereal into his bowl. It barely covered the bottom.

“Good Lord, Sheba. The recession must be worse than I thought.”

Talking to a dog had its advantages. You could say whatever you liked and it wouldn’t give you the evil eye or come back with some witty retort that made you feel inches high even when you were a giant.

Jack emptied another couple of packets into his bowl and poured milk over the triumvirate of flavours.

The combination tasted like a sugary heaven.

Two toasted bagels, a large mug of coffee and a crust of bread later, Jack got ready to for a walk.

He picked up the lead and went over to Sheba who dropped her head onto her white paws.

“Walkies girl.”

She pushed herself up as if she was fighting gravity.

“A bit of fresh air and you’ll be right as rain.”

She wasn’t.

Every step she took was heavy and slow. It was as if she’d aged about twenty-five dog years overnight.

She squatted as soon as they reached the beach, emptied her bladder, turned and headed for home.

*

The bowl of food Jack had put out for her at lunch time remained untouched and she hadn’t taken a lick from her water bowl all day.

Sheba’s mood was catching and Jack had slumped back into his depression as if it were a comforting sofa. He lay on the floor barely able to move. To pass the time, he’d flicked through all the nonsense on the TV, tried to read his book until he realised that he’d spent a quarter of an hour on the same page and didn’t have a clue was all about and played some games on his iPad.

The internet was his real downfall.

No matter what he did, he’d end up checking out his Instagram page just in case. He’d go from there to Facebook to Twitter to his emails in a circle that he couldn’t get himself out of. It was as if he were trapped in a revolving door in the middle of hell.

She hadn’t been in touch. Worse, she’d started her new job and was ‘LOVING IT’ or ‘Happy as a pig in the proverbial’ and everything was ‘LOL’ or ‘Sweet’ or ‘Boss’. Didn’t the girl have any warm blood in her beautifully formed body?

Outside, grey clouds had taken over the sky and now there were raindrops forming on the window pane.

He laid his head back into the soft cushion of the chair and began to drift slowly into oblivion.

Before he got there the phone rang.

He beetled over and picked up.

“Jack. It’s Emma.” She was shouting down the phone as if she was on a megaphone. “I’m here. In the hotel. It’s like walking round in a sauna to tell you the truth. The air-con’s so loud that I might as well have taken at a room next to the airport. Is everything fine?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“You’re not still down in the dumps about Paige then?”

“Not so much.”

“And how’s Sheba?”

He didn’t want to say. The fact was she was pining as if it was an Olympic sport and she was in contention for a medal. If things got any worse, he was probably going to have to call the vet. “She’s missing you.”

“How do you mean?”

“I can tell.”

“Is she OK?”

“She’s great. Really.”

“Put her on.”

“Pardon?”

“Put her on. I want to speak to her.”

Was she crazy? It was one thing speaking to a dog that was in the same room, but doing it when you weren’t even in the same continent seemed insane.

“Quickly Jack. This is costing me a small fortune.”

Jack did as he was told. “Sheba. It’s Aunt Emma. She wants to speak to you.”

The sound of scampering came from the landing. Within seconds, Sheba was sitting at Jack’s side, ears pricked and tongue out.

“Here she is now,” Jack said and held the receiver to Sheba’s ear.

He couldn’t make out the words, just heard the high-pitched squeals of his aunt.

Sheba’s tail wagged, beating against the antique wooden cabinet next to her. She barked quietly and barked again.

When Jack took the phone back, the line was dead. He returned the receiver into its cradle and when he turned around, there was Sheba, lead in her mouth and jumping up at Jack as if the message needed reinforcing.

He took the lead from her and attached it to her collar.

“Come on then. Let’s go.”

He pulled on his jacket and they headed for the door.

Sheba pulled enthusiastically.

Her new enthusiasm was a relief. At least she was going to be all right. The problem was that he liked it when she was miserable and he had someone to share things with. Now, as they headed out into the evening drizzle, Jack realised that he was alone in his pain. As Sheba pulled him into the street, only the rain seemed to understand the way of the world.