Sunshine and Spaniels
Read Sunshine and Spaniels Online
Authors: Cressida McLaughlin
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollins
Publishers
Ltd
The News Building
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015
Copyright © Cressida McLaughlin 2015
Cover layout design © HarperCollins
Publishers
Ltd 2015
Cover images © Shutterstock.com
Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9780008135218
Version: 2015-05-18
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Keep Reading_ Primrose Terrace
Cat Palmer had never seen Fairview Park looking so beautiful. It was late May, and the breeze that drifted in off the ocean made her think of days spent building sandcastles as a child. The sky was a brilliant blue with gauze-like clouds drifting slowly past. The wide expanse of green grass was humming and buzzing with families and couples and friends, all of whom had one thing in common: they were with their dogs.
There was almost every breed imaginable, from Great Danes to chihuahuas, dachshunds to Dalmatians. Cat was determined to see if the age-old belief stood firm, that there was a resemblance between every dog and its owner. She thought of all the doggy friends she’d made since moving to Primrose Terrace at the beginning of the year, and since she’d started her dog-walking business, Pooch Promenade.
There was her next-door neighbour Elsie with her two miniature schnauzers. All three had grey hair, but beyond that Cat couldn’t see any likeness. Then there was glamorous Jessica Heybourne, celebrity food author and Fairview socialite. Cat thought of her expensively highlighted blonde hair, and the three silky Westies that she owned – a diva with her diva dogs. Yes, there were more similarities there. Cat wondered what she should get if she was choosing a pet to match her own looks. She had boy-cut chestnut hair, brown eyes, long limbs. A red setter maybe, or a pointer? Though neither would be the breed of dog she’d choose, and she’d spent a lot of time thinking about the day she could have her own.
Her newest clients were Will and Juliette Barker, a professional couple who lived at number six Primrose Terrace and had asked her to walk their two golden retrievers, Alfie and Effie, while they were at work. Cat didn’t know them that well, but she didn’t think either of them looked remotely like their pets.
And then there was Chips, sitting perfectly at her feet, her sleek head brushing against Cat’s knee, just beneath the hem of her spring-green sundress. Cat had always thought of the Border collie as humble, elegant and well behaved. Her owner, Mark, could be seen as elegant in a dashing, roguish kind of way, but humble and well behaved he was not. Still, Cat found herself grinning at the thought of him. He had trusted her to look after Chips overnight, while he spent a couple of days in London, and promised her dinner on his return.
She approached a couple with two Labradoodles. Cat always thought of them as the hippies of the dog world; laid-back and loping, their eyes hidden behind elaborate fringes. ‘Welcome to the Pooches’ and Puppies’ Picnic,’ she said. ‘I’m Cat. I run Pooch Promenade with my friend Polly, so please feel free to ask any questions. There’s tea, coffee and cold drinks inside the café, along with water and treats for the dogs.’
‘Thanks,’ the man said. He was quite short and wide, with a bright blue T-shirt and a friendly face. The woman he was with smiled at Cat, her amber eyes wide. ‘We’re not sure we need a walker for these two, but couldn’t resist popping down when we heard about it.’
‘We love dogs,’ the woman added. ‘It’s so lovely to see so many here all at once.’
‘I know!’ Cat said, unable to hide her enthusiasm. ‘It’s such a good turnout – I had no idea it would be so popular.’
And not just for family pets and companions, but for people whose dogs were furkids – as important as children to their owners. She’d seen a young woman with spiky pink hair and porcelain skin leading two shih-tzus dressed in little tartan jackets and sunglasses, and an older woman pushing her Pekinese in a bright blue pet pushchair. Cat remembered seeing them on a dog-accessory website, but she hadn’t imagined people actually bought them. Didn’t dogs
want
to walk? She hoped so, otherwise her new business would be short-lived.
‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ she said to the couple, ‘where did you hear about it?’
‘On Twitter,’ the man said. ‘I work for the local paper – though “paper” seems a bit anomalous these days so I’m always on social media, trying to keep up with the times. I think your event was mentioned by Magic Mouse –have you heard of them?’
Cat smiled and did a quick visual search of the park. She couldn’t see Joe, her housemate and brother of her best friend Polly, but she knew he was here somewhere, despite his aversion to dogs. He’d come up with the idea for the Pooches’ and Puppies’ Picnic and, now it seemed, had tweeted it to his followers too. ‘I have,’ Cat said. ‘Amazing illustrations. Have you checked them out?’
The man nodded. ‘Yup. I’ve been following him for a while now, looking at his work. He – Joe, is it? – seems very talented.’
Cat glanced behind her, but she still couldn’t see him. ‘He is. He’s got a real skill for cartoons as well as graphic design – his work’s really versatile.’
‘We’re thinking of having a regular cartoon strip in the paper. It’s still just an idea at the moment, but…you know him well, then?’
‘He’s a friend,’ Cat said. Was that true? She hoped they were more than just housemates. ‘And – sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’
‘Phil.’
‘Do you think, Phil, if you get a chance, that you could mention today, maybe say a little bit about—’
‘Pooch Promenade?’ He gave her an easy, open smile. Was he really a journalist? ‘I think that can be arranged. Good-news stories are always great for the paper. Give me your number and I’ll look at it on Monday, ring for a quote.’
Cat’s heart leapt. ‘That’s fantastic!’ She handed him a Pooch Promenade card with her number on. ‘Thank you.’
‘And thanks for the info about Magic Mouse
.
I’ll be in touch.’
Cat directed them towards the Pavilion, the park’s dog-friendly café, run by George, that was hosting her event. She waved at a family with an Alsatian puppy straining on its leash, a young boy laughing as he was dragged along behind, his father with a protective hand on his shoulder.
‘Twenty names,’ a familiar voice said close to Cat’s ear. She spun round to see Polly waggling a clipboard. ‘Twenty people have registered to receive the Pooch Promenade newsletter, and it’s only eleven o’clock.’ Polly was wearing a pink T-shirt and white shorts, her long blonde hair tied up in a ponytail, her freckles just starting to emerge in the sunshine. Her pale blue eyes were alive with excitement.
‘That’s incredible,’ Cat said. ‘And the local paper said they’d put something in about today. At this rate I’ll need to hire more people.’
‘I’m going to try and spend a bit of time walking the dogs,’ Polly said. ‘I don’t have much spare, but I’m being swallowed by revision and I need to make sure I get some fresh air or I’ll be a gibbering wreck when the exams start. Can I help out?’
‘You’re serious?’ Cat flung her arms round her friend. ‘Oh, Polly, that would be
amazing.
I feel like I’ve barely seen you since I moved in!’
‘I know, it’s been rubbish. But my exams are three months away and then I’m free!’
‘Except you have to start doing the thing you’ve been training to do for so long.’
‘Daniel at Fairview vet’s says he’s really pleased with what I’ve done, that there’s money and demand for another nurse.’
‘So you can keep working there?’
Polly nodded, her lips pressed together, trying to hide what Cat could only assume was a huge grin.
‘Oh God, Polly, that’s brilliant! Why haven’t you told me already? We need to celebrate! You’ll be a fully qualified veterinary nurse.’
‘And maybe I’ll actually have a life!’
They hugged again, Cat feeling a swell of pride that her friend had worked hard and got to exactly where she wanted. It was impressive, and something Cat couldn’t imagine doing. She’d felt settled at her last children’s nursery in Brighton, had fitted into their spontaneous ways, but her job as nursery assistant in Fairview had lasted less than three months, and Cat had turned her back on that career path.
But Pooch Promenade felt right. She had always loved dogs, and couldn’t remember a time when she was so happy, walking people’s pets round Fairview Park and the sandy beach, getting to know the locals at the same time. Now that Polly was nearly qualified, all they had to do was drag her brother out of the post-break-up dumps, and their household would be the happiest on Primrose Terrace.
‘Where’s Joe?’ Cat asked. She stroked Chips’s ears, checking that the collie hadn’t turned to a statue at her side. The dog nuzzled her nose into Cat’s hand.
‘He’s on the veranda, giving out the cards with your rates and contact details on. I think I saw Jessica prowling around there too.’
‘Ah.’ The friends exchanged a knowing smile. A few weeks ago, Jessica had held a party at which Joe, work-at-home hoody enthusiast, had put on a sharp suit and ended up kissing the hostess. He’d assured them it was a one-off, but Cat had spoken to Jessica and wasn’t sure the author was quite so ready to forget it. ‘Do you think he needs rescuing?’
‘It wouldn’t hurt to see how he’s getting on. I’ll take Chips for a bit.’ Polly approached a tall, burly man with a boxer, what looked like a piece of bread sticking out of the dog’s mouth. Maybe it was a Street Sweeper, picking up any snack she could find on her route around the park. ‘Hello,’ Polly said, ‘welcome to the Pooches’ and Puppies’ Picnic. If you’ve got any questions I’d be happy to answer them.’