Lost Dogs and Lonely Hearts (22 page)

Zoe threw out her hands but it was too late to break her fall. She dropped her phone and the leads as she skidded along the ground, cracking her head against the drain. Stars exploded behind her eyelids and she could hear the sound of jubilant barking, as Bertie galloped free. Everything seemed a very long way away.

‘Ow!’ she half-sobbed, tasting the iron tang of blood where she’d bitten her lip. In a moment, she knew, there’d be a sudden burst of pain from her forehead and her skinned palms. This was the part she tried to talk the boys through, so they wouldn’t notice.

The phone rang twice more, out of sight, and then stopped.

Zoe tried to sit up, but everything was spinning. The dogs! Where had the dogs gone?

She looked up to see Bertie bouncing with delight around the three people with the dog, who were staring over towards her while their poodle skirted Bertie’s advances like an unwilling woman being chatted up in a club. Treacle meanwhile was hovering protectively over her, wagging an uncertain tail and drooling.

‘Bertie!’ yelled Zoe, scrambling to her feet. As she did, little stars of pain shot up and down her palm, her leg, her shoulder, and she felt her knees give way beneath her. She slid back onto her hip. ‘Oh, God.’

This was painful and embarrassing. And now, she could hear the people coming over to her. She shut her eyes and put a tentative hand to her forehead. Her hat had come off, and there was an enormous lump there where there definitely hadn’t been one before.

‘Are you OK?’ a man called. ‘Don’t move, we’ve got a doctor here.’

‘Can you grab the dog?’ she yelled hopefully. ‘Please?’

‘I’ve got him,’ shouted a woman.

The sound of running footsteps got louder and turned into heavy breaths, some of which weren’t Treacle’s.

‘That looked painful,’ said a wry voice. ‘And very
You’ve Been Framed
.’

Zoe opened her eyes and saw a man standing over her. He too was wearing a woolly hat pulled down over his ears, and tufts of black hair stuck out over his dark brown eyes. Even a bright red wind-chilled nose didn’t diminish the effect of faint weekend stubble and long dark lashes.

Why do you only ever meet hot men when you’ve just made a total fool of yourself, she wondered through the dull roar in her ears.

‘Um, I’m no expert, but I think you might have ripped your jeans,’ he added. ‘I’d get up quite carefully if I were you.’

Zoe groaned inwardly, then realised she’d actually groaned aloud as the sensation returned to her grazed palms.

His manner became more professional as he squatted next to her and held her chin in his hand, so he could stare into her eyes. Embarrassed, Zoe tried to look away. ‘Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but can you look into my eyes, please?’ he asked. ‘Don’t worry, I am a doctor.’

‘Yeah, yeah, I bet you are.’ Zoe managed a fat-lipped smile. ‘You don’t just hang around the park waiting for dog walkers to fall over so you can hypnotise them?’

‘Nah.’ His eyes were gorgeous, thought Zoe, like Toffee’s on a good day: huge and brown and melting. She wondered if her pupils were going black as A Sign of Attraction, like the teen magazines had said. ‘Not worth it in this weather. Nope, I don’t think you’re concussed. You didn’t black out?’

‘No.’

‘Good. But you’re going to have an amazing bruise for your boyfriend to explain away in the morning.’

‘Lucky I don’t have one then, isn’t it?’ said Zoe, without thinking.

He didn’t drop her chin, but grinned. Why, Zoe asked herself, had she chosen that morning not to bother with make-up? Not even mascara?

‘Do you feel OK to get up?’ he asked, checking her over for other injuries. Zoe was sorry to say she didn’t have any for him to find.

‘I’m hurting more about ripping these jeans. They’re my favourites.’

As she lurched to her feet, Zoe saw the other couple approaching, with their own dog, the black poodle, as well as Treacle on her lead and Bertie, who was now bouncing happily around the woman, easily reaching up to her hip at full stretch.

‘Lean on me,’ said the man, slinging his arm around her shoulders for support. ‘That’s it, put your arm round my waist if it helps.’

‘Hello, I’m Zoe.’ Zoe offered him her other hand to shake, since they were now in closer contact than she’d been with any man since before David. He smelled of clean washing and his wool overcoat, and he was keeping her upright as if she weighed nothing.

‘Oh, sorry. I’m Bill,’ he said. ‘Bill Harper,’ he added. ‘I think we might have met at the surgery? I’m terrible with names.’

‘We haven’t. I’d have remembered. Hello, Bill,’ she said, and they shook hands gingerly. Even Zoe could tell it was just an excuse for them both to touch hands and suddenly she felt a bit too warm, despite her polar jacket.

I shouldn’t be fancying random men in the park, she reminded herself. Ten seconds ago, I was panicking that my kids were hanging upside down from a roller coaster!

‘My phone—’ she began, and Bill scrambled to look for it on the ground just as she bent down too. Their heads bumped and she yelped.

‘You’re not from one of those Personal Injury ads, are you?’ he asked, rubbing his forehead through the woolly hat.

‘No,’ said Zoe. ‘Just a bit clumsy right now.’

‘Everything OK?’ The blonde woman hurried up with the three dogs, passing the leads to the other man so she could pick up Zoe’s mobile. ‘Johnny, grab that, would you? Here, is this your phone? Anything broken?’

‘That was quite some flying leap,’ the other man – Johnny – agreed. ‘Bertie’s got some apologising to do.’

‘You know him?’ Zoe looked between them, surprised. From the way Bertie was sniffing and wagging round the woman, he certainly seemed to.

‘We’re on our way to give him a walk, actually.’ She reached down and fondled an ear. ‘Hopefully we’re Bertie’s new foster parents. Natalie, and Johnny. Hi!’

‘Lulu’s from the rescue too,’ Bill explained. ‘I think she and Bertie have some history. Oh, man, you’ve made a right mess of your hands. There must have been glass down there or something.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red hanky. ‘Just press this over it, OK. And keep your hand above your head.’

‘To stop the bleeding?’

‘No, to stop you punching me by accident.’ Bill grinned and Zoe felt a smile appear on her own face. A rather stupid one, she suspected.

‘Shall we head back up to the kennels?’ suggested Natalie. ‘We parked down here to give Lulu a walk first – didn’t want her to think we were taking her back so soon after Bill getting her!’

‘Is the chocolate Lab yours?’ Bill asked as Zoe took Treacle’s lead back from Johnny, and they set off towards the path.

‘No, but I’ve got a Labrador puppy. Or rather, I’ve been landed with a puppy,’ she said. ‘I work during the day, so he’s in doggie daycare with Megan. He can only do fifteen-minute walks at his age.’

‘Fifteen minutes?’ He pulled a ‘fancy that’ face. ‘I thought puppies were hard work?’

‘Hard work?’ Zoe dragged her stinging hands down her face. ‘Oh, the crying. And the drama! I’ve been sleeping on the sofa just so I can let him out twice a night to go to the loo. I don’t know who’s training who.’ She pulled Treacle away from a tempting rubbish bin and winced at the pain in her forehead.

‘How’s the head feeling now? Any worse?’ Bill glanced up at his friends who were being hauled at a much brisker pace up the path by Bertie, who had decided enough was enough.

‘I’ll be fine. Do you want to catch them up?’ Zoe asked, quickly. ‘Don’t feel you’ve got to hang back.’

‘No, no, it’s not a problem. It’ll do them good to bond with Bertie. Show them what they’re in for.’ He smiled, showing square white teeth. ‘If you don’t mind me saying, I think you should be lying down and taking it easy for a few hours.’

‘But we’ve only just met!’ said Zoe without thinking.

His smiled increased. ‘Let me get you back to the kennels,’ Bill went on. ‘I’m sure they’ve got somewhere you can chill out for a while. And some ice to stop the bump swelling much more. Are you rushing back anywhere?’

‘No,’ said Zoe, seeing her weekend alone stretching out. ‘Now now’?

‘Good.’ Said Bill.

There was a tiny pause, in which Zoe realised she was actively flirting and being flirted with. Wow. She could still do it! And someone still wanted to do it with her!

‘Come on,’ said Bill, putting a very light hand on the small of her back. ‘Don’t rush.’

They set off up the hill, with Lulu trotting next to them, and Zoe basked in the unusual feeling of being looked after for a change.

‘That went well,’ said Natalie, pulling out of the car park slowly, so as not to upset her newest passenger, securely fastened on the back seat in a truss-like harness.

‘If you mean, have you convinced those rescue women that you’ve done your research, then yes, I think it did,’ said Johnny, evenly. ‘That Rachel was asking
you
questions in the end.’

Natalie turned to him. ‘I just want to make sure we’ve got everything right for Bertie. I don’t want us to let him down.’

‘You’re not going to let him down.’ Johnny grabbed her knee and held it reassuringly. ‘You’re going to be a great dog owner. And he loves you. Don’t you?’ He wriggled round in his seat and let Bertie lick his fingers.

‘Careful, Jon, don’t want to make him sick,’ she said, glancing in her rear-view mirror. Bertie had taken some convincing to get into the car, and it had only been when Megan hid a sausage on the back seat that he’d finally jumped in.

Bertie looked tragic, sitting there now in his harness, as if he was getting ready for a parachute jump. Natalie reminded herself that he’d looked just the same shortly after getting back from the walk, and stealing a bacon sandwich – it was his default setting.

‘I saw the way you signed us up for next weekend,’ Johnny went on. ‘Was that for the bacon sandwiches or to make sure Bill and Lulu go too?’

‘A bit of both.’ Natalie turned the car round and hid a little smile.

‘Now
that
plan seems to be working,’ said Johnny. ‘Man plus dog definitely equals romance.’

‘You think they’re getting on?’

‘From the way they were chatting away in the kitchen? I’d say so. I’ve never seen Bill so animated.’

The weekend volunteers seemed like a friendly bunch – the three of them, and Zoe, whom they’d met in the park, some nice old dears and one or two teenagers from Longhampton School, whom Johnny knew. Rachel Fielding, in a pair of jeans topped with some gorgeous cashmere, was making bacon sarnies and Megan was holding a sort of advice clinic about handling puppies. Everyone was chipping in, offering advice, mainly about getting dog hairs out of your washing machine filter. It felt nice, Natalie had thought. Like joining a club, but without the competitive element that made her book group such a trial.

Natalie had kept her eye on Bill, and he seemed to be chatting to Megan quite a bit, about Lulu’s grooming routine.

‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘I like her a lot – she’s so funny and friendly.’

‘Mm,’ said Johnny. ‘Bit accident-prone but if he’s a doctor, could be a good thing?’

‘What?’

‘Zoe. Didn’t you see the way she nearly fell over Bertie, when he was waiting by the door? Thought Bill was very quick to see she hadn’t concussed herself again.’

‘I didn’t mean
Zoe
,’ said Natalie, shocked. ‘I meant Megan. It’s
Megan
who’s perfect for Bill.’

‘What’s wrong with Zoe?’ Johnny pulled his ‘I don’t understand women’ face. ‘She’s pretty, and young, and has that adorable puppy! What’s not for Bill to love?’

They were stuck in the traffic now, and it was starting to drizzle. Natalie turned on the windscreen wipers and tried to work out what it was about Zoe that wasn’t right for Bill. She was perfectly sweet. Just not someone she’d ever have imagined Bill ‘I couldn’t date someone who didn’t like Hitchcock films’ Harper with.

‘I don’t know,’ she said finally. ‘Maybe it’s because Bill’s always been so specific about what he wants.’

‘And he’s done a
great
job finding her so far.’

‘He fell in love with a poodle when he went up there for a spaniel, didn’t he?’ observed Johnny. ‘And look how that’s turned out.’

‘True.’

‘And we didn’t go there for a dog at all, and now we’ve got Bertie the canine waste disposal unit back there. People never know what’s right for them until they meet it. Life always turns out right in the end.’

Natalie stared into the rainy evening and thought about the other dogs lying, head on paws, in the kennels, wondering who was going to come for them, hoping they’d be someone’s surprise choice when the door opened. Johnny always believed things would turn out OK because he never even thought about the alternative.

‘Or maybe I’m just lucky that I keep running into all the right things,’ he said, softly.

She felt his hand cover hers on the gearstick, and told herself that it was about time she starting thinking the same way.

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