Pitbull: He plays hard on the field...He plays harder off it. (10 page)

I followed Megan through the doors and into a small courtyard with a path that led to a long shed where the dogs were housed. Other paths led to fields and enclosures where the more exotic animals, and the donkeys were kept.

Megan lead the way into the shed, the smell of dogs hitting me before the door was even opened. Cages ran along either side of the walkway, and the barking of dogs was deafening.

"Hello, boy!" cooed Megan, kneeling at the first cage she came to. "Who's a good boy then?"

The cross breed inside looked at her with doleful eyes and leapt at the cage, bearing its teeth and spraying saliva as it barked at Megan, going for the fingers that she'd poked through the square holes in the bars.

Megan pulled her hand to safety and leapt backwards. "Having a bad day, huh?" she said, moving on to the next cage.

I steered clear of the first dog and followed Megan down the line of mutts and pedigrees. As Megan bent down to converse with a particularly large eyed pug, I tapped her on the shoulder and raised my voice to make myself heard over the ever increasing chorus of barks. "I'm going to look at the other animals," I said, pointing at the door at the far end of the shed.

"Okay," said Megan, as the pug made his eyes even bigger in an attempt to get his forever home. "He's lush, isn't he?"

I hadn't heard Megan use the word
lush
since we'd been in school, and I wasn't sure that it was an appropriate word for the drooling animal anyway. "Yes, he's nice," I said, leaving her side and making my way towards the door, and the promise of fresh air, and maybe even an ostrich.

The door opened onto a gravel path that ran between fields and shelter sheds for the animals. The track snaked off into the distance towards the River Avon which wound its way through the base of the valley, glinting in the morning sun.

I took a deep breath of fresh air and made my way towards a field in which I could definitely see a long legged flightless bird.

As I approached and realised that I was probably looking at an emu and not an ostrich, I saw a man coming up the hill towards me, surrounded by six or seven dogs on leashes that ran ahead of him, reminding me of a husky pack pulling a sled over the snow.

The emu,
maybe
ostrich, strutted across its paddock towards me as I leaned on the fence and made a clucking sound with my tongue. Its eyes swivelled in its head and it rocked its head back and for on the long neck that swayed as it walked.

I wondered if I could persuade Megan to take it home, rather than the pug she'd seemed so enamoured with. It would make a great addition to her large garden
and
I wouldn't be persuaded to walk it for her.

The man walking the pack of dogs got nearer and I turned my head to greet him as I heard the sound of his footsteps.

"Hello, Emily," he said, a huge smile splashed across his face. "You couldn't stay away from me, could you?"

Jack.
What the hell was Jack doing at an animal sanctuary on a Sunday morning, walking dogs — one of which I was sure I'd heard him call
Mister Snuggles.

I turned my attention away from the bird and stared at Jack. "What the hell are you doing here?" I said.

"You're supposed to be the genius," he said, nodding at the mini pack of dogs that strained on their leashes to get to me. "What's it look like I'm doing?"

Jack struggled to keep the dogs under control and he had a sheen of perspiration on his forehead. It
looked
like he was being run ragged by a bunch of disobedient mutts, but I didn't say that.

"It looks like you're walking dogs, Jack," I said, rolling my eyes. "I meant, what the hell are you
doing
here.
Why
are you walking dogs?"

Jack raised his voice at the dog that was making the most effort to reach me, his tongue hanging inches from his mouth and his tail a blur of friendliness. "Mister Snuggles, will you fucking calm down!"

I tried to stifle a giggle, but failed miserably. "Mister Snuggles?" I laughed, "please tell me there's a good reason for that name."

"I didn't name him," Jack said, "I have no fucking idea where he got his name." He pointed at a tiny cross breed, which sat at his feet looking bewildered with the world. "I named him," he said. Jacks voice raised in pitch and he bent down to ruffle the dog's head. "Didn't I, Hercules?"

I laughed. I couldn't do anything
but
laugh. "Back to my question," I said, giving Mister Snuggles the back of my hand to sniff. "Why are you here?"

Jack shrugged. "I volunteered here once, when the club was trying to raise its profile, and I sort of… fell in love with the little guys."

"But Jack," I said, saving my hand from Mister Snuggles's slobbering tongue. "Why isn't this in the newspapers? This is just the sort of story you need to give yourself the sort of credentials the club wants. The newspapers would love it!"

"No chance," said Jack, pulling the dogs nearer to him. "Some of these animals have been through hell at the hands of humans. I'm here to help them trust again, not use their misery to make myself feel better."

I felt a tear prick the corner of my eye, and it wasn't due to the cold morning breeze that blew across the fields. Seeing Jack so protective of the dogs, and seeing the respect they had for him, had flipped a switch inside me. It had made me realise that he wasn't all bluster and bad manners — he could be selfless, and he had a heart — he had the ability to care.

I suddenly
wanted
to help him. I wanted to make sure I did whatever I could for him before I went to Germany.

"Jack, listen," I said, "about the other day. I'm sorry okay. If you want to come back, my door is open."

His dimples travelled an inch higher on either side of his mouth as he smiled. "I knew you couldn't stay away from me," he said, with a wink. "You
want
me."

"Don't push your luck Pit Bull," I said, "I don't
want
you, as you so eloquently put it. I want to
help
you."

He ran a hand through his hair and grinned. "You work on
that
, and I'll work on getting what
I
want," he said, "you know she wants me don't you Mister Snuggles?"

Mister Snuggles yapped and span in a circle. "See," said Jack, "dogs understand people better than people understand themselves."

"How long has Mister Snuggles been here?" I said, changing the awkward subject.

"Six months or so," said Jack, "no one wants him because he's almost blind."

"He doesn't look blind," I said, watching the dog as he sniffed the air.

"He's got a good nose and ears," said Jack, "he doesn't need his eyes."

"Follow me," I said, turning towards the shed. "I think I know somebody who would love to give him a home."

As soon as Megan had got over the shock of seeing Jack again, and sneaked a long look at his arse as he bent over to release Mister Snuggles from his leash — which gave me irrational pangs of jealousy, she was all over the little dog.

"Aw, he's blind?" she said, tickling it behind the ear. "He's so cute."

"Do you want to give him a home?" said Jack, putting the other dogs back in their cages.

"How could I say no?" said Megan. She bent down and cupped Mister Snuggles's face in her hands. "Do you want to come and live with me?" she said, in a high pitched voice.

Jack laughed. "I'll take you through to Gemma, she'll make the arrangements."

As Megan spoke to the friendly girl who'd greeted us when we'd arrived
and
parted Megan with my money, I sat down in a small waiting area with Jack, drinking weak tea from plastic cups.

"So, when do you want to try again?" I said, trying not to let my eyes linger on his face for too long. I was having thoughts that could be deemed unprofessional.

"Whenever you like," he said, not being so coy about allowing his own eyes to wander over me. He paused for just too long on my chest, and I cleared my throat. "Up here, Jack," I said, pointing at my face.

At least he had the decency to break off his ogling stare. "Sorry," he said.

"I was thinking," I said, "sometimes the office environment can be a little overwhelming. Would you feel better if we met elsewhere? Somewhere you felt more calm? Maybe that would help you to open up a little."

Jack's eyes twinkled as he crumpled his empty cup in his fist and tossed it into the bin. "I know just the place," he said.

Chapter Sixteen

~Emily~

Mister Snuggles had settled in nicely with Megan. The minute she'd seen him and heard his story from Jack, who she was as surprised to see as I had been, she'd fallen in love with him.

"When are you going to change his name?" I said, sipping the concoction that Megan had described as a cocktail.

Megan curled her feet beneath her and patted the sofa. The little dog leapt up and curled himself into a ball next to her.

"I'm not," said Megan, stroking the spot between his ears. "He's nearly blind, he needs normality in his life. Changing his name would be too much for him."

"Mister Snuggles though?" I smiled, "that's a hell of a name."

"It suits him," said Megan, "he loves snuggling, and he's male. It's a perfect name."

Megan sipped her drink and shuddered. "I got the measurements wrong," she said.

"You got the ingredients wrong," I laughed, "you could strip paint with this stuff."

"It does the job though doesn't it? You look like you're seeing double."

I did feel tipsy, but I could see perfectly straight. I could see straight enough to see that in the google search bar on Megan's tablet, was the name that had been running through my mind for days. Jack Bailey.

I reached forward and grabbed it from the coffee table. "Are you suddenly a rugby fan? I can't think of
any
other reason why you'd be googling Jack Bailey," I smiled.

"Well spotted, I'll have to remember to be more careful with my browsing history. Some of the things I search for could get me in a lot of trouble," she said with a wink. "Just like rugby boy could get you in a lot of trouble."

"So he's rugby boy now is he?" I said, "it's got a ring to it, I'll give you that. I don't see how he can get me into trouble though."

"Not regular trouble," said Megan, pulling a thorn from Mister Snuggles's thick fur and flicking it across the room. "
Emotional
trouble."

I tried to look confused. "Whaaat?" I said, my voice an octave too high as I dragged the word out. "What do you mean?"

Megan tilted her head and raised both eyebrows in an all knowing stare that made me squirm. "You know exactly what I mean," she said, "I saw you at the dog sanctuary, twirling your hair and puckering your lips. Little Miss Flirty, that would be your name if you were one of the Mister Men… or Missus Men, whatever they're called. You were drooling over him… that's my point."

"I was not," I said, heat rising in my cheeks.

"Oh yes you were, Emily, and you arranged to see him again. I heard you mentioning times and dates when you thought I was busy with my new doggy."

My throat burned as I took a long swallow of whatever it was that was in my glass. "He needs some help, that's all."

"Like an appointment? In your office?" said Megan.

"Yes," I said, hoping the conversation wasn't going where I was ninety-nine percent sure it was. "An appointment in my office."

Megan took her legs from beneath her and leaned over the coffee table, a sly smile on her face. "So no trips on… let me think, a boat, on a river. Nothing like that then?"

I grabbed the cushion that was on my lap and threw it at her. She caught it in mid-flight and laughed. "You should have been a little quieter if you didn't want me and Mister Snuggles to hear."

"You shouldn't have been listening," I said, "anyway, it's all professional. I wanted to get him somewhere where he feels calm. I thought it would help him open up to me."

"And you do that with all your clients do you? Arrange river trips? You don't even like water, Emily. The last time you went swimming the lifeguard thought you were drowning."

That had been embarrassing. The guard had leapt from his high seat and dived in to save me, only to realise I had quite an unorthodox swimming style.

"It wasn't my idea," I said, "I asked Jack to think of somewhere where he feels calm and he suggested it, and yes, I would do it with my other clients, if I thought it would help."

Megan snorted and Mister Snuggles snapped his head into the air, looking panicked. Megan put a reassuring hand on his back and he settled down again. "I can picture it now," she said, "you and Peter Cross drifting along the River Avon on a boat. Peter in his captain's outfit, standing behind you, his hands on yours as he teaches you how to steer."