The Complete #LoveLondon Collection. Nikki Moore

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СКАЧАТЬ whizzed past and pedestrians stepped around them, George turning her head back and forth to look out for any obstacles. While she hoped no-one could see her face, her mum was right. Between the hood, her flowing hair and the eye patch, she could barely see. Inhaling sharply, she pushed the hood down, talking to her mum to take her mind off how scary this was for her. ‘Where did you learn that?’ she asked. ‘About leading? We’ve never had a dog.’

      ‘Internet,’ Stella’s hand hovered by her daughter’s elbow as a red letter box came up on the right, but as if he knew something, Buttons walked around it, his shoulder against George’s knee to steer her away from it.

      ‘Clever doggy,’ Stella exclaimed.

      George glanced at her suspiciously, ‘Are you sure he’s not a guide dog? Or trained in some way?’

      ‘Not as far as I know,’ her mum replied. ‘He’s just got good instincts.’

      ‘Hmmmm,’ George agreed dubiously, lifting her head towards a street light. She had to admit it was refreshing being out and about, much more than she’d imagined. Nothing disastrous had happened and no-one was staring at her in the early evening darkness. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad.

      She regretted the thought a few minutes later when upon reaching Primrose Hill, Buttons got overexcited about the wide open green space and other dogs and tore off with George hanging onto his lead. She tripped over and smashed her knee on the concrete path. Wincing, she rolled over onto her bum, clutching her leg, the puppy’s lead somehow still wrapped around her right hand.

      ‘Stupid dog!’ George gritted her teeth against the stinging pain, her jeans ripped open to reveal an oozing gash on her knee.

      ‘Are you all right, darling?’ her mum dropped into a crouch beside her, grabbing Buttons’ lead. ‘Here, I’ll take him. How bad is it?’ Stella’s face was clenched and white.

      ‘Just a cut and probably a bruise,’ George got up carefully, not wanting her mum to worry, and was reaching for the puppy’s lead when a guy came running over.

      ‘Are you okay?’ he panted. ‘I saw you fall. Do you need any help?’

      George automatically dropped her chin to her chest. ‘I’m fine, thanks.’ She got an impression of tousled brown hair before hiding her face. It was smiling guy. Shit, this was so embarrassing.

      ‘Fine usually means exactly the opposite,’ he answered drily, smiling at her.

      George stepped towards her mum, yanking up her hood.

      ‘You fell pretty heavily. It must have hurt,’ he insisted. ‘Can I help? I could give you a piggy-back or something. I don’t live far from here.’ The raised eyebrow and grin he gave her, which she caught from the corner of her eye, communicated that he knew she knew that. He recognised her.

      ‘No, thanks. I’d rather walk,’ she said curtly, turning away, cheeks burning. Fabulous. Caught gawking at him twice, and then she fell over in front of him too. And his concern just made it so much worse.

      Her mum leaned in, speaking quietly. ‘Are you sure you’ll be all right to walk home, darling?’

      ‘Yes,’ she hissed. ‘Please just– just get rid of him.’ It came out louder than she’d intended, and she backed away, even more embarrassed, stumbling over her own feet. This was getting worse with every passing minute.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she heard her mum say to him, ‘my daughter was in an accident and now she finds it hard to talk to people.’

      George sucked in a breath. Go Mum, sharing all my secrets. Yay.

      ‘Thank you very much for the offer,’ her mum added, ‘but we’ll manage.’

      ‘Sure,’ he agreed easily, ‘I’ll leave you to it then. It was nice to meet you both properly.’

      Was it George’s imagination or did he emphasise the word properly?

      ‘Properly?’ Stella picked up on the intonation too.

      ‘I think we’re quite local to each other. I’ve seen your daughter around.’

      ‘Really?’ Stella frowned, looking at George, questions in her eyes.

      George stared down at her feet. Thanks, smiling guy. Set the Spanish Inquisition on me, why don’t you?

      ‘I see.’ Stella murmured. ‘It’s nice to meet you too. And thank you again for coming over, it was very kind.’

      ‘No problem. See you around.’ Nodding, he walked off briskly towards the brow of the hill.

      ‘What a nice young man,’ Stella said pointedly, rejoining George and handing over Buttons’ lead. ‘Where did you meet each other?’

      ‘We didn’t.’ George wrapped the lead around her right hand, shaking her head at the puppy, who was trying to dance away from them. She drew him towards her. Her knee was stinging like crazy. There’d been enough drama for one day.

      ‘Oh,’ Stella pulled a puzzled expression. ‘Well, I think he likes you.’

      ‘Don’t be silly,’ George swung away and started towards one of the park entrances. ‘Come on, let’s go home.’

      Despite the fated first trip out, George walked Buttons the following day. Even with her nerve-tightening self-consciousness, she enjoyed stretching her legs and being out in public again. As long as she had her hair down and could pull her hood up if she felt the need to, the anxiety stayed at bay.

      Over the course of the next week, she upped it to two walks a day; one in the morning and one in the evening, and she and Buttons fell into a rhythm, walking the same route every time. The puppy largely behaved himself and by the fourth day she was able to let him off his lead for short periods of time. By the sixth day he was coming back on recall, as long as she kept a supply of Bonio’s in her pocket. Because it was damp and her thigh ached, she stuck to the lower, flatter paths around the base of the hill at first.

      She kept wondering if she’d run into smiling guy, and wasn’t sure what she’d do if she did, but never saw him. And instead of people-watching now, twitching the curtains, she spent her days in the house or back garden training Buttons.

      ‘Come on,’ she clicked her fingers at him on the Tuesday of the second week, and pointed to the top of the hill. ‘Let’s give it a go.’ He turned to face the right way, barked once and set off up the path ahead of her, free from the lead. George followed with a wry grin. She could swear he was more person than canine. She wiped the back of her arm across her forehead as she panted up the hill. It was late morning and the sun had climbed in the sky, beaming its rays down. After days of driving rain, it was unseasonably mild. George was building up a light sweat under her long sleeved top and hoody, so she stopped and drew the top layer off, tying it around her waist, and adjusted her eye patch before setting off again. When she reached the brow of the hill, she inhaled deeply, swivelling her head from side to side to see the London skyline. It was amazing.

      Dropping to her knees on the concrete circular area, she hugged the dog. ‘Good boy,’ she muttered into his fur. He licked her cheek in response in one long sandpapery rasp, then his body quivered and he lurched forward as the chattering СКАЧАТЬ