What did I think? As I drove out of pretty Netley Parva, its village green showing even more bright emerald against the now half-dressed November trees, and on through the autumnal New Forest lanes, I thought I must be in the middle of another weird dream. I could just imagine the bronze and copper foliage on either side of me, punctuated by little strings of temperamental ponies, going on and on for ever, the turnings and forks in the roads that I usually turned off disappearing into thin air. I could be driving along this lane for what felt like for ever, until I eventually woke up in Henry Halliday’s spare bed, with Talisker purring his little furry head off on the pillow next to me and no sign of any previously unmet Halliday relations.
There was an air of surrealism to being invited out for a jolly Saturday jaunt by Marvin –as if I was somebody he’d met at a social event and found he’d got something in common with – literally hours after him finding me squatting in his brother’s house. From what I knew of Henry Halliday, he must be the stiff, white stick of chalk standing to attention in its pristine box to Marvin’s squidgy chunk of Camembert oozing messily all over the cheese board.
‘Are you all right?’ Daisy asked me as we bumped into each other outside the door to the Sitting Pretty office. ‘You look a bit preoccupied.’
‘No, no, I’m fine, thanks. What are you and Nick up to this weekend?’ I hoped she didn’t notice how eagerly I’d changed the subject. She was a kind and empathetic girl and I’d hated not to be able to tell her the truth about my situation. I would miss her most of all my work mates when I went back to London.
‘There’s a gig on at Southampton uni that Nick wants us to go to – some band I’ve never heard of, but he seems very keen. What about you?’
Damn! I should have realised she’d ask me that. Unlike Katya and Natalia, Daisy actually took an interest in other people’s lives. ‘Well …’ Should I tell her about the trip to Lymington or not? ‘I might be going to Lymington for … for lunch tomorrow, once I’ve fed the cats and walked Bubbles.’ Apparently my mouth had decided for me. I wished it would stop doing that; one of these days it was going to get me into real trouble – and the rest of me was quite capable enough of doing that, all by itself.
‘That’s a long way to go just for lunch,’ she said as she signed for her pack of keys for the day and handed me mine and the pen. Katya was missing from her desk. It didn’t look like she was in yet and I was more than happy about that. ‘Look,’ Daisy carried on, ‘I’m not doing anything much tomorrow until the evening. If you like, I could do the morning and late afternoon feeds and give Bubbles his walks, then you can set off whatever time you want and don’t have to rush back.’
That’s really kind of you, Daisy,’ I told her,’ but Bubbles? Do you really want to risk walking him again?’
‘Hey! That was my first day! I’m more experienced now. And don’t forget I did walk him that weekend …’
‘Didn’t he end up dragging you through Wintertown Park on your bum?’ I chuckled.
She joined in too, then gave a little shudder, ‘Eugh, and that horrible man with those cigarettes started making comments.’
‘Yes, he seems to lurk about the park like some kind of giant, smelly, garden gnome,’ I felt my nose wrinkle up at the memory of those cigarettes. What were they, Gauloise or Gitanes or something? Or they could be Turkish ones? They whiff too don’t they?
‘Gnome Man! I like that,’ Daisy chuckled again. ‘Nat calls him Stinky Steve, but I think I’m going to call him Gnome Man from now on.’
We settled on Daisy giving Bubbles both his morning and afternoon walks for me on Saturday. I’d feed the cats on the way and they’d be fine, even if we got back a bit late. I didn’t want the favour Daisy was doing me to get any bigger as I knew it was highly unlikely I would be here long enough to pay it back. I still had Daisy’s Gnome Man chuckles in my ears as I went off to walk Bubbles. The disobedient dog was waiting for me when I got there, paws up on the little window sill next to the front door, barking for all he was worth. Mrs Parker opened the door just enough for me slide in without Bubbles making his escape.
‘Good morning, Beth,’ she smiled, and stood back as I clipped on the dog’s lead. She was a lovely lady, Mrs Parker. I guessed she was only in her fifties, but she had been diagnosed with osteoporosis and she was afraid to walk her much loved but very wilful dog in case he pulled her too hard and she broke a bone. She could manage Bubbles in the confines of her house, but outdoors he was just too much for her to manage, so when it came to walkies, Sitting Pretty had been called in. ‘I hope he won’t be any trouble today.’ Bless her, she always hoped that. And nine times out of ten he was – although most of those times I didn’t tell her – but you had to love her optimism.
‘I’m sure he’ll be fine,’ I white lied. ‘We’ll have a lovely W-A-L-K, won’t we, Bubbles?’ I don’t know why I bothered spelling it out to stop him becoming hyperactive, he’d heard it enough times to know what the sounds meant. Plus, me or one of my work mates arriving at walkies time almost every day was a bit of a giveaway. He was almost turning himself inside out in his excitement to get outside and find some poor cat who’d been foolhardy enough to risk one of its nine lives by being on the street at the same time as him. ‘We’ll see you later.’ I gave Mrs Parker my most professional smile before grasping the lead firmly, preparing for starter’s orders and opening the front door for the off.
I wondered, as I walked him, who would get Bubbles added to their list after I left. It would probably be Natalia who, in spite of being so slender she didn’t look strong enough to handle a Chihuahua, was amazingly good with the big and/or physically powerful dogs. I didn’t know if she was a secret dog whisperer or if one look just scared them into doing what they were told, but whatever it was, it was certainly working. Talisker wouldn’t like her. Talisker would like kind, gentle Daisy. Hopefully Davina would realise that. And I was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to disappoint her best customer in any way.
By the end of the day, I’d managed to get over the weirdness I’d felt earlier about tomorrow and was actually looking forward to doing something a bit different with my weekend. This evening was another thing entirely though, and I couldn’t believe it had only just occurred to me. Would Marvin be spending the evening in the cottage? Or would he have more exciting things to do in town? Would he expect me, as the uninvited lodger, to put together some kind of dinner? Or would he want me to make myself scarce if he brought this Lizzy back tonight? We hadn’t talked about any kind of arrangements for this evening and neither of us had a mobile number for the other.
Daisy and Nick were going out for a drink after work in Nettles, the quietest of the wine bars in Wintertown, where you knew you had a good chance of getting a table. At lunchtime she’d invited me to go with them. I would have gone anyway as I liked them both, but would Marvin think it rude of me? Maybe I should leave a message on the cottage answer phone, just in case he also wasn’t sure what to do. I had the phone number in my mobile. Without thinking any more about it, I keyed in the contact and waited for the answer phone to kick in.
‘Hi, Marvin,’ I started with great originality. ‘It’s Beth. Just thought I’d let you know I’m going for a drink with some friends in Wintertown after work, so I’m not sure what time I’ll be back. See you later …’ If I hadn’t only just met him I’d have known how to word a question like ‘Do you want me to stay out of the way if you’re planning on bringing somebody back?’ But I had only just met him, so as I couldn’t think of anything else to say, I ended the call.
The very second I put my mobile back in my bag a horrible thought struck me. What if, for some reason or other, Henry Halliday didn’t end up staying in Geneva for as long as he’d told Marvin he needed to? What if he got back tonight, before either myself or Marvin? And what if he was the one who listened to my message?