Fiona Gibson 3 Book Bundle. Fiona Gibson

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СКАЧАТЬ beginner,’ the man adds.

      ‘Well, that’s fine because I work with all abilities—’ Her words are drowned out by an outburst of barking. Buddy appears to have spied another dog – a small, fluffy black thing, like a Mongolian cushion, with no discernible features that Kerry can make out. It glides along beside its owner, as if on casters, paying no heed to the cacophony of barking several metres to its left. Apart from a quick frown in their direction, the owner hasn’t acknowledged them either. She strides on in her blue linen dress and camel trenchcoat, heels clicking as Buddy scrambles to get towards them.

      ‘Buddy, stop it,’ Kerry hisses as he continues to bark and lunge, nails scraping frantically on the pavement.

      Now the cushion’s owner has stopped. ‘I’m not sure he should be going to school,’ she remarks over the racket.

      ‘Buddy, stop. He’s just … new,’ she explains. ‘I only picked him up half an hour ago. He’s probably a bit unsettled …’

      ‘Huh. Is that what you call it?’ the woman scoffs, dark bob swinging around her pointed chin. ‘I’d say he’s completely out of control. Is he aggressive?’

      ‘No, of course not,’ Kerry exclaims, realising that, actually, she has no idea. That man – James – said he wasn’t, but then, if he was desperate to rehome him, he was hardly likely to say, ‘There is a small chance he might savage your children.’

      She realises she’s still gripping her phone. ‘Sorry, call you back,’ she shouts over the barking, not sure if the caller is still there or not. Quickly shoving her mobile into her jacket pocket, she grips Buddy’s lead with both hands.

      ‘That dog shouldn’t be around children,’ the woman says sharply, trotting off with her docile hound and merging with the other parents at the gate.

      Kerry exhales fiercely. Great. First day as a dog owner and already she’s failed. Should she have primed herself to spot other dogs before Buddy did, and made a point of avoiding them? She’d always assumed dogs enjoyed mingling with others of their kind, with all the butt-sniffing that goes on. Relief floods through her as, with the other dog out of sight now, Buddy’s barks gradually subside. Now he’s just panting, which still doesn’t look especially friendly, but at least it’s unlikely to alarm small children when they come out of school.

      Now Lara and Emily have appeared at her side. It’s spooky, the way they appear inseparable, always patrolling as a pair.

      ‘Ooh,’ Lara remarks. ‘I heard all that commotion. Got a new friend, I see.’

      ‘Yes,’ Kerry says with a grin, ‘this is Buddy …’

      ‘Oh, he’s very sweet. Bit nervy, though, isn’t he? I’d say he has issues.’

      ‘I don’t think—’

      ‘He was only barking,’ Brigid exclaims, striding towards them in a garish pink mac, her hair piled up messily and secured with a giant plastic tortoiseshell claw. ‘That’s what dogs are designed to do, Lara.’

      ‘Yes, but that one doesn’t.’ Kerry indicates the cushion dog lurking beside its owner, and quickly repositions herself to block it from Buddy’s vision.

      Brigid has bobbed down to ruffle Buddy’s fur. ‘He’s adorable, isn’t he? What a gorgeous dog! And he’ll soon settle down. He’s just trying to assert his authority.’

      ‘Well, I hope so.’ Kerry checks her watch, willing the minutes to flash by and the children to rush out of school so they can meet Buddy and go home before he attracts any more sour looks.

      ‘Oh, is he new?’ A woman in a sky-blue running top and startlingly tight shorts grins down at Buddy.

      ‘Yes, I’ve just picked him up today.’

      ‘Bet the children love him.’

      Kerry grins. ‘They haven’t met him yet. He’s a surprise for them, can’t wait till they come out …’

      ‘Ah, that’ll be nice for them after all they’ve been through.’

      Kerry blinks at the woman. ‘Er, well, they’ve been begging me for years to get one. It’s been a long, intense campaign and I finally crumbled.’

      The woman makes big, patronising eyes at Kerry and pats her arm. ‘That’s wonderful. I have to say, I think you’re all coping very well, considering.’

      ‘Do you?’ Kerry frowns, aware of Brigid regarding the woman with mild horror.

      ‘Oh yes. It must be so hard …’

      What, to have your husband impregnate the work experience – sorry, editorial assistant? It’s shocking, the way details about your life spread around here, Chinese-whispers style. Kerry has mentioned her situation in passing to Lara, Emily and a couple of others, but is floored by this sudden outpouring of sympathy.

      ‘We’re all doing fine, thanks,’ she says firmly, making a point of turning away to cut that woman, with her you-can-tell-me-all-about-it-dear therapist’s voice, from her vision. Not much happens around here, that’s the problem, so any small event is leapt upon and gleefully discussed. And now that woman is murmuring to a friend, ‘That’s the one who …’ ‘That’s right,’ Kerry wants to scream, ‘and you know what else? His new girlfriend is twenty years old. That’s seventeen years younger than me. She is astoundingly pretty with huge blue eyes and small, sticky-out, modelly breasts. and I know this because I’ve not only met her, albeit briefly – but I also went out and bought that stupid magazine, Mr Jones, and when I saw her pouty picture on the contributors’ page I nearly threw up all over it …’

      Thankfully, Brigid has swiftly engaged the two gossiping women in a conversation about plans for improving the playground. Kerry should probably join in, perhaps ingratiating herself by offering to make several hundred cupcakes to raise funds, but she doesn’t have the energy right now. She glances down at Buddy, wondering if this is how her life will be now: hanging out with a black and white mongrel with an aversion to cushions. Well, at least he’s being sweet, pressed up lovingly against her legs, the pleasing warmth from his furry body permeating her jeans. And the benefits, she suspects, will be many. Unlike a husband of ten years, he won’t moan about the office or the fact that Freddie has crayoned his trousers or squirted his man moisturiser into the sink. Dogs don’t have jobs, trousers or expensive skincare. Their needs are simple: food, water, exercise and love – ah. And the other thing. The thing that appears to be happening now as Buddy shifts away from Kerry’s legs and assumes a squatting stance on the pavement.

      For one brief, optimistic moment, she wonders if he’s merely … flexing. When Freddie was a baby, she’d signed up for a course of yoga classes in the hope of becoming one of those serene, dreamy mums who reacts to spilt milk-sodden Weetabix with a beatific smile. In fact, she’d only made it to one class, and Buddy’s tensed, slightly trembling pose reminds her of the only position she could manage: on hands and knees, bum to the ground, as if pooing.

      Only, in this case, not ‘as if’, but actually dumping a load. ‘Oh, God,’ Kerry mutters.

      She glances around at the glowy-faced parents in the hope that, by the time she looks back down at the ground, the mighty deposit will have miraculously disappeared, or at the very least have slipped discreetly away down СКАЧАТЬ