Tinsel and Terriers. Cressida McLaughlin

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СКАЧАТЬ with prizes awarded at the party?’ Jessica went to the cupboard and took out a box of dog biscuits. She shook it, and the three Westies, followed by Owen’s fox terrier Rummy, and then Disco and, finally, Chalky, pattered in from the dog den where they’d been playing. She crouched, her grey cashmere shawl brushing the floor, and gave out the treats.

      ‘I like prizes,’ Owen said. ‘Pets win prizes?’

      Cat nodded. ‘I want to involve the dogs somehow. It’s such a doggy street. Except…’ She glanced at Polly. ‘We don’t have one.’

      ‘No,’ Polly said, ‘but that means we could judge it. Especially as you’re the resident dog walker.’

      Cat thought of Joe’s insistence that she couldn’t have dogs in the house, the hints that he and Polly had given her since the spring that the reasons were complicated. She still hadn’t got to the bottom of it, but had begun to accept it. The details that the woman at the vet’s had given her were still in her coat pocket, but she had her clients’ dogs, and she got to spend time with them every day. Perhaps she wasn’t destined to have one of her own.

      ‘So, one thing for the dogs,’ Elsie said, ‘one for the humans.’

      ‘Something sparkly and fun and creative,’ Cat added. ‘There’s loads of creativity on this road – Boris and Charles are super stylish with their bed and breakfast, there’s Frankie and the girls who are always doing crafty things, and then us.’

      ‘Sure,’ Polly said. ‘Just think of the banner Joe designed for your event.’

      ‘Exactly.’ Cat could picture it perfectly when she closed her eyes. It was rolled up under her bed, within reach whenever she wanted to have another look at it. ‘Something Christmassy and crafty.’

      ‘Tree decorations?’ Elsie asked.

      ‘Good,’ Cat said, ‘but I think it needs to be bigger.’

      ‘Christmas trees?’ Owen suggested. ‘People go to town with their trees.’

      Cat nodded. ‘That sounds great, but…’ She frowned, thinking. ‘Something even bigger. Something we could all enjoy without having to traipse through everyone else’s house. Maybe…’ She stared out of the window, seeing the glimmering fairy lights against the reflection of them sitting round the table. She turned back, mouth open, and Jessica caught her eye.

      They spoke together.

      ‘Christmas lights.’

      Jessica’s smile was triumphant.

      ‘Lights?’ Polly asked, ‘on the trees? Isn’t that the same as decorations?’

      Cat shook her head, dropped to the floor and pulled Disco towards her, lifting the mini schnauzer up. Disco pawed at Cat’s dress and licked her cheek.

      ‘Not on the trees, on the houses. Primrose Terrace is one of the prettiest roads I’ve ever seen, let alone lived on. All the houses have their own character, so why not have a lights competition? See who can decorate theirs the best?’

      Owen sat up. ‘Everyone would have to decide whether they wanted to go for classy, just a couple of colours, or all-out with reindeers and Santa climbing up the side of the house. You’d have to think tactically as well as creatively.’

      ‘You could judge it, Owen,’ Elsie said. ‘You don’t live on Primrose Terrace.’

      ‘Are you kidding? There’s no way I’m being left out. I’ll help with number nine, if – ’ he turned to Polly, taking her hand – ‘if you’ll have me?’

      Polly grinned, her pale cheeks flushing. ‘Of course I will.’

      Cat buried her smile in Disco’s fur. The young dog yelped, jumped down and went to be overfriendly to Chalky who, having had his treat, was lying on the floor next to Jessica’s glass-fronted wine cabinet.

      ‘We’ll have to get someone else to judge it,’ Jessica said. ‘Someone unconnected with Primrose Terrace. Maybe someone at the Fairhaven Press?’

      ‘To judge a Christmas lights competition?’ Owen asked, incredulous.

      ‘Why not?’ Jessica said. ‘I’ve done enough interviews with them. I’m sure if I got in touch they’d spare a reporter.’ She left the room and came back with the day’s paper. ‘I’ll see if I can find someone.’

      Cat swallowed, her eyes drawn to the newspaper. ‘We could ask Phil,’ she said, ‘who I’ve been in touch with about doggy events, and the protest. He might be happy to do it.’

      ‘Oh, of course!’ Jessica said. ‘Of course he would, silly me.’

      Jessica moved the paper aside. ‘Right. Let’s think about the details and the dog element.’

      ‘Dogs and lights aren’t a good mix,’ Elsie said. ‘There could be chewing issues.’

      ‘No, you’re right, we need something distinctly dog-related.’

      Quiet settled on the room as they thought, the only sounds the soft crooning of Michael Bublé, the occasional crackle of the candle, and the snuffling of the dogs. Cat, inches away from the copy of the Fairhaven Press, had become distracted. Thursday was the day Curiosity Kitten was published. She didn’t know if Joe had sent in a whole batch of cartoons to run while he was away, or if he was sending them from America, but they had been appearing for the last three weeks. So far they had been final versions of sketches that Cat had already seen – the kitten about to lift a lid on a pan containing a piranha, scrabbling on a box outside a window – but she’d come to look forward to them, to feel the connection to Joe while he was hundreds of miles away.

      With the excitement over the result of the protest and planning a Christmas event, she hadn’t yet looked at today’s cartoon. She was sure Polly had. She often mentioned to Cat how proud she was of her brother, how well he was doing in the States, which meant he was keeping in touch with her. Cat had no right to expect him to contact her too, especially not since the events of the protest, but she couldn’t deny that she missed him, and that Curiosity Kitten had become an important part of her week. She’d gone from feeling affronted by it to counting the days until it arrived.

      ‘Dog secret Santa?’ Polly asked. ‘We could buy them all something, have a Santa give them out at the party.’

      ‘Have a person dressed as a dog dressed as Santa?’ Elsie asked, sipping her wine.

      Polly sighed. ‘OK, that sounds a bit weird. Maybe not.’

      ‘Some kind of dog show or parade,’ Owen said. ‘A dog fashion show. Is that cruel?’

      ‘Why would it be cruel?’ Jessica asked, appraising her Westies as they tussled good-naturedly on the kitchen floor.

      ‘Dressing them up. Making them wear outfits.’

      ‘I don’t think so,’ Elsie said, ‘not if it’s only for a few hours.’

      ‘Valentino loves his little tartan jacket,’ Jessica said.

      ‘Of course he would,’ СКАЧАТЬ