Fiona Gibson 3 Book Bundle. Fiona Gibson

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СКАЧАТЬ she hisses as a couple of mothers turn to glare at the mess.

      Brigid breaks off her conversation and hurries over. ‘You okay, Kerry?’

      ‘Not really. Look.’ She points at the ground and grimaces.

      ‘Oh dear. Not a good place for that.’

      ‘I know, and I don’t have a bag with me. I didn’t even bring my shoulder bag, I just shoved my purse and phone in my pocket …’

      Brigid groans. ‘I don’t have a thing on me. Sorry.’

      ‘Er, I’ve got this.’ With a withering smile, Lara holds up a lilac paper carrier bag with a ribbon tie and ‘Dilly’s Bakery’ printed on it in elegant script. ‘It’s got macaroons in it,’ she adds. ‘They’re our regular Friday treat but I guess you could have the bag, if you’re desperate …’

      ‘No, I can’t use your lovely macaroon bag for poo.’ Kerry pulls out her purse and flicks through its cluttered interior. Much as she’d like to pretend otherwise, there’s no way she’ll be able to pick up Buddy’s rank deposit with a WH Smiths receipt.

      Cushion dog’s owner is at her side now, pursing her lips and extracting a little black plastic sack from her handbag. ‘Here,’ she says with a tight smile.

      ‘Thank you. I must be better prepared next time.’ Kerry quickly bags up the poo and knots it tightly, privately marvelling at how weighty it is. At least Buddy hasn’t started barking again, even though the other dog is beside them now, sniffing him with great interest. Distance seems to be his trigger, Kerry observes. ‘Guess I’ve got a lot to learn,’ she adds with a forced laugh. ‘If he starts that crouching thing again, I’ll know to put a cork in it, haha.’

      The woman eyes her with distaste and takes a step back. But Kerry no longer cares what anyone thinks, because Brigid is exclaiming, ‘Look – here they come!’ The rain has stopped, and the playground is wet and shiny in the weak afternoon sun as the children surge out of school. Kerry spots Mia first in her tomato-red sweatshirt and grey pleated skirt, swinging her battered Horrible Histories lunchbox. Spotting her mother, she smiles and waves; she hasn’t registered Buddy yet. Then she does, and there’s a small hesitation as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing, or perhaps she’s thinking, Oh, that’s a cute dog sitting near Mummy. Her smile brightens as she hurries towards Kerry, then Freddie appears, registering Buddy immediately and zooming towards them like a rocket.

      ‘Mummy!’ he yells. ‘Whose dog is this?’

      ‘He’s ours,’ Kerry laughs.

      ‘Really?’ Mia exclaims, tears springing into her dark eyes. ‘Ours to keep, forever?’

      ‘Yes – yes, of course, sweetheart.’ Kerry realises she’s not just laughing but crying too, as her children bob down to hug Buddy.

      ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ Mia wants to know.

      ‘He’s a boy, about six, his owner didn’t want …’ She tails off, as Freddie and Mia are too excited to absorb any information right now. Other children push forward, and soon Buddy is surrounded by a delighted crowd. Kerry knows she should warn them to be careful because he still seems a little unsure, but she doesn’t want to spoil the moment and anyway, his tail is wagging so much, it looks as if it could spin off.

      ‘He’s a hit then,’ Lara observes with a wry smile.

      ‘Yes, looks like it.’

      ‘He’s a beauty,’ Brigid says, ‘isn’t he, Joe?’

      ‘Yeah, he’s great.’ Her son digs at the lump of gum in his mouth, stretches it out and pops it back in again.

      ‘Oh, Mummy,’ Freddie blurts out, throwing his arms around her. ‘I love him, thank you, thank you!’

      ‘This is the best day of my life,’ Mia declares. ‘What shall we call him?’

      ‘Well, he’s called Buddy at the moment but we can change it if you like, if you can both agree on another name …’

      ‘No,’ Mia insists, ‘I like Buddy …’

      ‘Me too,’ Freddie declares, his expression changing to one of puzzlement as he looks up at his mother. ‘Why are you crying?’

      ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ she says quickly, ‘these are happy tears.’

      They turn to leave with Brigid and Joe, plus a gaggle of children all clamouring to hold Buddy’s lead. Swinging her knotted poo bag, Kerry murmurs to Brigid, ‘I think he might be a bit of a handful actually.’

      ‘Don’t worry.’ Brigid gives her arm a squeeze. ‘The most interesting men always are.’

      Chapter Twenty-three

      ‘Come over again if you like,’ Nadine had murmured in the tiny office kitchen this afternoon. ‘I’m having a low-key night in.’ Hmmm. Well, that had sounded okay: a couple of hours at her place, perhaps staying over again, then up with the lark, back home to change and make himself look like a respectable dad on his way to pick up his children for the weekend. (I’m a weekend dad now … the phrase had been turning over in his mind all day.) So he and Nadine had jumped in a cab back to her place.

      ‘You don’t need to cook for me,’ he says now as she starts busying away in the kitchen.

      ‘Oh, I’m just getting a few bits and pieces together. They like something to nibble with their drinks.’

      Rob frowns. They?

      ‘They’re coming over about half eight-ish,’ she adds.

      ‘Er, who?’ he asks lightly.

      ‘Just a few friends.’ There’s the clink of crockery, and the sound of a packet being ripped open.

      He gets up and peers into the kitchen. ‘A few friends? You never said …’

      She smiles prettily, clutching a large glass bowl of tortilla chips. ‘It is Friday night, Rob. Don’t you normally do something fun at the weekend?’

      ‘Er … yes, I suppose so,’ he fibs.

      ‘Well, since I’ve been feeling a bit tired and queasy I haven’t really been in the mood for going out.’

      ‘I can understand that,’ Rob says. To his shame, he realises he hadn’t known she’d been feeling under the weather.

      ‘So I thought I’d ask the girls round. You don’t mind, do you?’

      ‘Of course not. God, Nadine. It’s your flat and, like you say, it’s Friday night …’ His mind starts to whir as he tries to conjure up an excuse as to why he must leave right now.

      She puts down the bowl on the worktop and starts removing pink glasses from the wall cabinet to line up on the worktop. One … two … three … four …

      ‘Do they, um СКАЧАТЬ