Tinsel and Terriers. Cressida McLaughlin

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       Chapter 2

      Two days before Halloween, Cat was walking Jessica’s Westies when her phone rang. It was the day of the rearranged council meeting, and she’d taken Coco, Dior and Valentino on an extra-long walk to distract herself. Mr Cawston had said he would call her as soon as the decision had been made.

      Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sat on a bench at the edge of Fairview Park, the cold immediately seeping through her tunic dress. The Westies stopped at her feet and Dior sat on them, warming her toes through her boots.

      ‘Hello?’

      ‘Miss Palmer? It’s Mr Cawston here, from the council.’

      ‘Hi, Mr Cawston,’ Cat chirped nervously. ‘How are you?’

      ‘I’m very well, thank you. I’m calling with the outcome of today’s committee meeting.’

      Cat closed her eyes. ‘It went ahead, then?’

      ‘Indeed.’

      ‘That’s…good. Did Mr Jasper do anything else to make sure the ban was imposed, before…?’

      ‘Not after your sterling efforts. It really was an effective campaign which, I’m pleased to inform you, has been successful. With the weight of public opinion, our councillors have agreed to continue to allow dogs at the cove.’

      Cat opened her eyes, resisted squeaking at Mr Cawston and leant over to stroke the Westies. ‘That is incredible news,’ she said, ‘thank you so much.’

      ‘No need to thank me – it was all your hard work that won them over.’

      ‘Wow,’ Cat said, ‘will you be letting everyone know? I can help too, but—’

      ‘Yes, we’ll get notices out, make sure Fairview residents are aware of the decision. It’s been good working with you, Miss Palmer.’

      ‘You too, Mr Cawston.’

      She waited until he’d hung up, and then she knelt on the concrete and embraced Coco, Valentino and Dior, letting them lick her face and cover her bottle-green coat in their trademark white hairs. ‘You’ve got your beach,’ she said. ‘It’s yours. For ever. What do you think of that, eh?’ She sat on her haunches and, blinking tears out of her eyes, took in the beauty of Fairview Park, the trees, almost bare for the winter, the other dog walkers and their running, playing pets. She really did love living here.

      She took the dogs back to Jessica’s house, eager to tell her the good news.

      ‘It wouldn’t have happened without you,’ Cat said. ‘We wouldn’t have been able to spread the news nearly as far, or get as many signatures. The campaign might have sunk before it had even got going.’

      ‘I don’t believe that for a moment,’ Jessica said. ‘You’re the driving force behind everything dog-related in Fairview. You’ve come here and worked your magic. You’re incredible, Cat.’

      ‘Well, I—’ Cat ran her hands down the front of her coat. ‘I’m not sure about that, but I was wondering if I could talk to you about something. I’ve been thinking of doing something Christmassy that can involve everyone on Primrose Terrace, and you’re always so sociable. Mark said he thought you might be organizing a party.’

      ‘He did, did he?’ Jessica smiled and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

      ‘If you are – and there’s no pressure, I promise – I was wondering if I could combine it with something? Can we have a proper chat some time?’ Dior was standing with his front paws on Cat’s legs, and she bent and ruffled his ears.

      ‘Tonight,’ Jessica said, clapping her hands together. ‘Come round here this evening. We can have wine, a few snacks, and a brainstorm – like a Christmas committee. Who else?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘Who else can be on the committee? I’m not sure it’s Mark’s thing.’

      ‘I can ask,’ Cat said, but she thought Jessica was probably right. She couldn’t imagine him getting enthusiastic about tinsel and mince pies, perhaps not even on the day itself. ‘And I was going to speak to Polly.’

      ‘Bring her, and anyone else you can rope into it. Seven o’clock. I must dash now, but I’ll see you later.’ She kissed Cat on the cheek. ‘I think with you and me leading the way, whatever we come up with will be pretty unstoppable.’

      ‘That’s what I’m hoping,’ Cat said.

      Cat turned in the direction of the vet’s surgery. There would be nobody at home, and Mark had spent the last few days immersed in paperwork. She didn’t feel like sitting quietly and waiting for him to notice her. Besides, Polly had been a huge supporter of Pooch Promenade from the beginning, and Cat wanted to share her good news.

      She pushed open the door into the clinical white reception area. They’d obviously decided that late October was too early for decorations.

      ‘Is Polly on her lunch yet?’ she asked the receptionist.

      ‘About ten minutes, I think. Take a seat and I’ll let her know you’re here.’

      She sat next to a woman with short, carroty hair, a Barbour jacket, and a small cream dog on a lead. A Cairn terrier, Cat thought.

      ‘He’s adorable, can I stroke him?’

      ‘Of course,’ the woman said.

      Cat bent and ran her hands along the dog’s shaggy back. He turned to her and sniffed her boots. ‘What’s his name?’

      ‘Bisto,’ she said. ‘One of my kids came up with it. I like it for him – he’s bold and stocky, so it suits him – but they’re far too keen on food-related names. They’re trying to name all our neighbour’s puppies things like Popcorn and Curry.’

      ‘Your neighbour’s just had puppies?’

      ‘Very unexpectedly, poor love. Her little mongrel has somehow managed to have her wicked way with another dog, and there’s five healthy pups, just born.’

      ‘What’s she going to do with them?’ Cat asked, her eyes wide.

      ‘Well, she’s eighty-nine, and she doesn’t want any more dogs. I’ve spoken to lovely Polly here, and she’s going to put a sign up, see what else she can do. They’re cute pups, cream and brown, a little scruffy, but utterly loveable. I’m a firm believer that dogs aren’t just for Christmas, but they’ll be ready to leave Mum mid-December, and I’m sure they’ll be snapped up. Here.’ She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket, scribbled something on it and handed it to Cat. ‘If you’re interested, just get in touch with me and I can introduce you.’

      ‘I will,’ Cat said. ‘Thank you.’ She read the details on the piece of paper. Five mongrel pups, three male, two female, ready 20 December. Followed by a СКАЧАТЬ