All Wrapped Up, page 8
For two days, I lay low as the rain hammered down and the wind rattled the garden gate and made a determined effort to blow the end of summer out and the beginning of autumn in. Ordinarily, I would have been rejoicing about that, but not this time around. This year, I couldn’t muster the enthusiasm to embrace the change or the energy to look again for hope and solace in Callum’s encouraging and inspiring notes. I left the special treasure box I kept them in undisturbed on the wardrobe shelf in my bedroom.
‘Clem! I know you’re in there!’
It was Ash’s voice that roused me from my Saturday lie-in with a magazine and pot of tea, but I still didn’t feel inclined to respond to my new friend.
‘I need your help! Please open the door.’
I didn’t budge.
‘I wouldn’t ask you,’ he continued to shout, ‘if I wasn’t desperate.’
With a long sigh, I carefully pushed back the duvet, to avoid upsetting the tray and peeped around the curtains. I couldn’t see Ash because he was likely sheltering from the rain in the porch, but I did hear an indignant woof and felt annoyed that he had subjected Pixie, as well as himself, to a soaking.
I assumed his appeal for help was a ruse to get me to open the door, but with the pair of them in attendance, I supposed it was as good a time as any to explain what I had decided.
‘Just a sec!’ I shouted through the window that I opened only far enough for my voice to reach him. ‘Hang on!’
I pulled on my cotton dressing gown and padded down the stairs, hoping that Pixie was going to forgive me for turning her away and that Ash wouldn’t try to convince me that I would have more than enough time to look after her now the festival wasn’t going ahead.
The failed meeting had plunged me into an emotional maelstrom and I had even found myself wavering about my former conviction to never sell Rowan Cottage during the long watches of the night. I hoped with the whole of my heart that the current upset would pass – my slow walk along life’s path, with grief as my companion, had given me reason to believe that it would – but it didn’t currently put me in prime position for being in the best headspace to take on and nurture a depressed pooch.
‘At last!’ Ash muttered, stepping straight in when I opened the door. ‘I was beginning to think you’d left the county.’
‘If this is about the festival or Pixie, or both,’ I immediately began to say as I pulled back my shoulders and put on my bravest face, ‘then please, just let me say—’
‘It is about Pixie,’ Ash interrupted, producing her like a magician with a rabbit in a hat, from the depths of the huge waxed coat he was wearing and thrusting her into my arms, ‘and it would be about the festival too, given what Lizzie has told me about the meeting after I couldn’t get you to answer your phone, but I haven’t got time to get into it right now.’
Pixie started to wriggle and, not having the best hold on her, I put her down. She made a beeline for my armchair and jumped straight on to it, then looked at me with her head cutely cocked and her ears pricked.
‘I know it’s an imposition,’ Ash carried on, ‘but can you take her?’
‘No,’ I said, feeling cross. ‘Ash, I can’t. I’d already decided—’
‘Not forever,’ he cut in quickly. ‘Just for the weekend.’
I looked from Pixie back to him and realised he didn’t look like his usual sunny self and I got the impression that wasn’t only because of what Lizzie must have told him about the meeting.
‘What’s happened?’ I therefore asked. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘My nan has had a stroke,’ he told me, sounding distraught. ‘And I need to go. The journey is too long for Pixie to manage and Will’s working this weekend and so is Lottie and there’s really no one else I’d trust her with.’
‘Oh, my goodness,’ I gasped.
‘I know it’s probably the last thing—’
‘No, it’s fine,’ I told him, cutting off whatever plea he was going to make. ‘Of course, I’ll take her.’
I felt guilty for not noticing straightaway that something was wrong and for assuming the purpose of his visit was to convince me to rethink my decisions. Not everything was about me.
‘You will?’ Ash said, looking relieved. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Just tell me what to feed her and go.’
Before I knew what was happening, he grasped the tops of my arms, pulled me close and planted a kiss on my cheek.
‘You’re a lifesaver,’ he puffed, then let me go. ‘I’ve thrown some bits in a bag. Hang on and I’ll go and get them.’
I don’t think it had even registered that he’d just kissed me, albeit in a fit of sheer relief, and I didn’t have the bandwidth then to process it, either.
‘Right, here you go,’ he gabbled, rushing back along the wet path in record time. ‘There’s far more than she’s going to need as I’ve got to be here ready for work on Monday. I’ll collect her as soon as I’m back.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘That’s fine.’
‘Now, I’ve written a note about how much she has to eat and when and I’ve put her bed in here, too. Though I have to admit, she’s got into the habit of sleeping on the bed next to me, so you might want to…’
He ran a hand through his soaked hair and looked with concern over my shoulder at Pixie who didn’t appear bothered by the unexpected change in her circumstances.
‘I’m sure we’ll figure it all out,’ I told him, hoping Pixie wouldn’t pine for him overnight. ‘Now, go on. Get off, otherwise you’ll never get to wherever it is you’re going.’
‘Okay,’ he nodded. ‘Okay. Thanks, Clemmie, and when I do get back, we’ll talk about the festival. Yes? I’m not giving up on it yet.’
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I had. I knew that Lizzie had called at the cottage again the previous evening and that she and Ash had now talked about what had occurred, but it wasn’t the time to get into all of that.
‘Just drive safe,’ I said, as I started to usher him out and didn’t answer his question. ‘I hope your nan is going to be all right.’
‘Thanks, Clemmie,’ he said again. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow night.’
Once he’d driven off, I closed the door and turned to look at Pixie. I’d never been in charge of a dog before. When I was growing up, we’d had a cat. An aloof creature who kept himself to himself, but I had the feeling that Pixie had the potential to demand far more of me than indifferent Mr Mittens ever had.
‘Well,’ I said, feeling a little ill at ease under her scrutiny. ‘Let’s just see how things go, shall we? What have we got in here?’
I took the bag Ash had given me into the kitchen and unpacked it. There was enough food for at least a week, according to the note of instructions that went with it, and a bowl as well as a lead, which matched Pixie’s collar and her squishy bed. I put the food in a cupboard in the utility and hung her lead on one of the leaf-shaped wooden hooks next to the back door. It looked as if it had always been there, as did her bed – she chose to ignore it because she was comfortable in my chair – which I set down next to the log burner.
‘Now, how about a drink?’ I offered, only then remembering my tea, as I knelt next to the chair and gave Pixie a long fuss, which she lapped up. ‘I’ll go and get mine first.’
Pixie followed me up the stairs and had a nose in the bedrooms while I dressed and used the bathroom and then came down after me once she’d finished her inspection. I put down a bowl of water for her, then ate my usual breakfast of overnight oats, fresh fruit and chia seeds. Pixie looked at me appealingly while I chewed, but I didn’t cave because Ash had written that she’d already had hers and underlined it, which made me wonder if she was a bit of a glutton. She certainly had the butter wouldn’t melt look nailed, so I could see how a weaker mortal could have been taken in.
‘Let’s have a mooch around the garden, shall we?’ I suggested, once I’d tidied away and noticed that the rain had finally stopped.
I’d avoided going outside during the previous couple of days. Not only because of the downturn in the weather, but in case either Lizzie or Jemma happened to drive by while I was out there, but now I needed to find a spot for Pixie to use, so I couldn’t put it off any longer and actually, I found I didn’t want to.
As my Insta grid showed, the garden was really starting to come into its own now and I didn’t want to miss that for the sake of avoiding an awkward conversation. Not that I was in any rush to talk to anyone. If I heard a car approaching, I’d be ducking out of sight until it had gone, even though I knew Lizzie and Jemma were most likely then both at work.
‘Come on, then,’ I said, encouraging Pixie out of the door, once I’d pulled on my polka dot patterned wellies. ‘Let’s go and get some fresh air, shall we?’
Pixie had an eager root about, while I refilled the birdfeeders and cut a few of my favourite pompom dahlias that the rain hadn’t ruined for displaying in the house. I had a fabulous Emma Bridgewater Black Toast jar which made the perfect vase for them and they’d look good on my grid. I stopped what I was doing to watch Pixie, who was drinking out of one of the birdbaths. She’d look great on my grid, too, but would be a dead giveaway about my Insta identity to anyone who knew her and me.
‘Come on!’ I called, when she started to show a rather too keen interest in the feeders hanging off the bird table and I felt a few heavy spots of rain. ‘Time to go back in.’
The utility and kitchen floor was covered in wet little footprints within seconds of closing the back door and I quickly realised what the towels Ash had included in Pixie’s bag were for.
‘Stand still then,’ I laughed, as I attempted to dry her feet and she scampered about and tried to lick my face.
Her tail was working like a rudder and I was relieved to find that she had accepted her unexpected sleepover with such good grace. That said, we hadn’t tried to sleep yet… She wasn’t keen on the mop I washed the floors with and retreated to my armchair, where we later whiled away the afternoon curled up under a fleecy blanket and watched both Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail.
* * *
‘Ash,’ I yawned, when my phone woke me from a nap I hadn’t expected to take, and I saw his number on the screen of my phone.
I’d got a stiff arm thanks to Pixie’s dead weight laying on it but I didn’t mind that, because it had been cosy to cuddle and I was very much enjoying her company. Had she not been visiting, I daresay I would have still been dug deep into the fug I’d fallen into as a result of the failed festival meeting, but having her to consider had pulled focus away from me and my woes and embarrassment, and I was both mindful and appreciative of that.
‘Clemmie?’
‘Sorry,’ I apologised, stretching a bit as Pixie jumped down, then headed for the kitchen. ‘I was asleep. How are you getting on? How’s your nan?’
I heard Pixie bark and got up to see what she wanted. The pins and needles in my legs, which had been curled under me, made walking agony and I was pleased there was no one there to see me as I hobbled along.
‘Was that Pixie?’ Ash asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think she wants to go out.’
She was certainly looking very pointedly at the back door. I opened it for her and she dashed off.
‘She’ll always let you know,’ Ash said. ‘Are you getting on okay?’
‘Yes, we’re absolutely fine. We’ve just had a lovely nap. But what about you?’ I asked again.
‘Better than expected,’ he happily said.
‘Thank goodness.’
‘Nan’s definitely had a stroke, but it’s quite a mild one.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘It really is. Mum was in a flap, not surprisingly, when she phoned, but the prognosis is looking good and as soon as Nan’s up to it and her consultant is happy, she’s going to move in with Mum and Dad. It’s something they’ve been talking about for a while and they’ve got this little annexe at the side of the house, which is where I was living before I moved to Wynbridge, so that will be perfect for her.’
‘Well,’ I said, as I considered everything he’d shared. ‘I’m sorry it’s happened at all, obviously, but I’m pleased everything is going to work out and that you were able to get there so quickly.’
‘It would have been a nightmare with Pixie,’ he told me, ‘so I really do appreciate you taking her at such short notice.’
‘It was my pleasure and don’t give us another thought,’ I told him, as Pixie trotted back in with wet paws again and I realised I should have put the towel down for her to walk over. ‘We’re having a wonderful time.’
‘That’s a weight off my mind,’ he said, then had to go.
I was pleased to have heard from him and even more pleased that the outcome for his nan was sounding so positive. I wasn’t quite so pleased about the state of my floors, however, as Pixie chose that moment to skitter about and shake and made even more of a muddy mess.
* * *
That evening, I felt a little apprehensive as bedtime approached, but it all turned out fine. I had made a vague attempt to settle Pixie in her bed, but didn’t stop her when she jumped out and followed me up the stairs to my room. She had soon snuggled down next to me and my only complaint was that she was a bit of a snorer, but she didn’t hog the bed or scamper about in the night, so I soon forgave her that.
In fact, when I woke with sunlight streaming through the bedroom curtains, I realised I must have quickly tuned her snuffling out and that I’d enjoyed the best and longest night’s sleep I’d had in years.
‘Good morning, my friend,’ I smiled, when I opened my eyes and found her looking intently at me. ‘Are you all right?’
Her head dropped on to her paws and she let out a little whimper.
‘Oh, Pixie.’ I swallowed. ‘It’s okay.’
I had a horrible feeling that she had just experienced something I myself had been through many times before, though thankfully, not recently. In the time since Callum had died, I’d lost count of the number of mornings I’d woken and just for a second, I had forgotten that he was gone. The agony of then remembering what had happened was awful and it was my guess that Pixie had opened her eyes and recalled what had happened to her and her owner, too.
‘It will get easier,’ I said, leaning over and kissing her wiry head. ‘You will feel better one day and for more than just a few minutes and then a few hours at a time. I promise.’
She huffed out a breath, but didn’t move.
‘Come on,’ I said, sitting up. ‘Let’s go and greet the day.’
It was, in part, the little things that had saved my sanity. The dishes that had to be cleared, the laundry that had to be washed. The domestic tasks had given me routine and occupation and I hoped that letting Pixie into the garden and then giving her some breakfast might help distract her.
‘Hello, Mum. Hey, Dad,’ I said a while later, with Pixie looking much happier and balanced on my lap, so she could clearly be seen on the screen.
I had decided to bite the bullet and tell my parents that there had been an unexpected change of plan and that the event I had said I was going to be involved with in town was now a non-starter. I was probably making more of the explan-ation than was necessary, but I knew they had both been worried about what I was going to do now the cottage renovation was complete and had therefore taken the opportunity to rope Pixie in to help.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Mum gasped, the moment she saw her, which was exactly the reaction I had been hoping to elicit.
‘Who’s that little cutie?’ Dad joined in, moving closer to the screen.
‘This,’ I said, kissing the top of Pixie’s head and receiving a chin lick in return, ‘is my pal, Pixie.’
‘Hello, Pixie.’ Mum beamed.
‘Is she yours?’ asked Dad.
‘No,’ I said. ‘She’s not mine. I’m dog-sitting for a friend. She’ll be going home later.’ That was something else I wasn’t keen on. I was going to miss her padding about the place and muddying it up. ‘I thought you might like to say hello before she gets picked up.’
‘We like that very much,’ said Dad.
‘No wonder I haven’t been able to get hold of you,’ said Mum, assuming that I had been preoccupied with Pixie for the last few days.
I didn’t correct her and it occurred to me that Pixie was providing both a distraction and confirmation that I had friends in the Fens. You’d have to know someone pretty well to ask them to look after your dog. Ash might have been desperate for help, rather than having been my friend for months, but Mum and Dad didn’t know that and actually, I was pleased Ash had called on me in his hour of need. It was nice to feel trusted.
‘She’s certainly kept me on my toes.’ I smiled, as I kissed her again.
‘And what about this big town event?’ Mum asked. ‘Is that keeping you busy, too?’
Pixie chose that moment to jump down and wander off, but I didn’t mind because she’d got the call off to a great start.
‘Sadly not,’ I sighed. ‘It’s now been decided that there’s not enough people available to support it. Health and safety and all that, so it isn’t going to happen.’
That was one way of putting it. Definitely a creative and positive spin on the truth.
‘Oh, no,’ said Mum. ‘That’s such a shame.’
‘I’m really sorry about that, love,’ added Dad.
‘Yes.’ I swallowed. ‘I’m sorry, too. I was rather looking forward to it.’
I gave my ideas notebook a cursory look and realised that as well as still smarting over what Jason the jeerer had put me through, I was upset that what could have been a wonderful celebration of autumn, wasn’t going to be happening, either.
‘Will you still want us to come down?’ asked Mum.
‘Absolutely,’ I said, without hesitation. ‘I miss you guys and I can’t wait to show you all of the finishing touches I’ve given to the cottage.’
