Читать книгу A Puppy Called Hugo - Fiona Harrison, Fiona Harrison - Страница 8

It was several hours later by the time we finished at the vet’s and arrived at Doreen and Eric’s new home. To Gail’s credit she took the entire incident much better than I expected. Instead of having a breakdown when she realised Hugo needed an emergency visit to the practice, she burst out laughing, her eyes crinkling with mirth and wouldn’t stop no matter how much I barked.

At the vet’s, Gail, Simon and Jenny all had great fun explaining what had happened to Hugo. As Gemma, our vet, had a good look down my boy’s throat, I shuffled anxiously from paw to paw waiting for the diagnosis, the clinical smell of bleach making me feel even more agitated.

‘Is it serious?’ Gail asked anxiously, biting her nails as she waited for the verdict.

The vet said nothing for a moment as she tried to hold the wriggling pup still while taking his temperature.

‘Yes, does he need medication? Or even surgery?’ I barked desperately.

Gemma grinned at me as she removed the thermometer and patted Hugo gently on the head. As she turned to tap something on her computer keyboard, I pushed my anger to one side as I offered him a sympathetic howl. Even though it was clearly Hugo’s fault, he now looked so poorly lying there on the long black consulting table that my heart went out to him. Usually Hugo made a monkey of everyone when we brought him in for a check-up. He would jump in the sink, run across the computer, climb the furniture, and once he even got his head stuck in the window. But today it was as though as he was a different dog, he was so quiet and sad.

‘Well?’ I barked in frustration.

Gemma turned around and smiled reassuringly at us all. ‘The good news is, it’s not serious, Hugo doesn’t need any medication or surgery and this will all pass naturally.’

I let out a bark of relief. ‘Did you hear that, you’re going to be fine.’

Hugo cast me a baleful look. ‘I don’t feel fine, Daddy.’

Simon sighed as he looked from me to Hugo and then back to Gemma. ‘When you say pass naturally, you mean Hugo is going to be going to the toilet a lot is that right?’

‘Not necessarily a lot, but perhaps a bit more than usual,’ Gemma explained. ‘It’s nothing to worry about, although Hugo might be a bit uncomfortable. All he’ll probably feel like doing is sleeping.’

Jenny pushed her brown hair behind her ears and smiled. ‘He does that a lot anyway,’

‘Like father like son.’ Gail chuckled, ruffling my ears affectionately. ‘Do we need to do anything else?’

‘No, just keep an eye on him.’ Gemma grinned, writing something on her pad. ‘Bring Hugo back in a couple of days for me to check he’s on the mend. He shouldn’t take a turn for the worse but if he does we’ll have a poke about.’

‘I don’t want to be poked about, Daddy,’ Hugo woofed with worry, as Simon scooped him up from the table and thanked Gemma for her time.

‘Well, let this be a lesson to you,’ I barked. ‘Now, one of us will have to look after you instead of helping Doreen and Eric. Honestly, Hugo, it’s vital we dogs put humans first rather than ourselves.’

‘Sorry, Dad,’ he yapped as we walked outside into the sunshine. ‘It won’t happen again.’

I barked nothing as I breathed in great lungfuls of fresh air, enjoying the scent of something other than bleach. Whatever Hugo yapped in his defence, I had a feeling that this, or something very like it, would happen again.

*

An hour later, all of us, together with a sleepy-looking Hugo, were inside Doreen and Eric’s lovely new bungalow. Instead of the candles, cushions and potpourri Gail had planned to give her parents, she had resorted to a huge bouquet of gerberas and chrysanthemums from the flower shop on the High Street. After presenting them to her mum, Doreen professed to adore them and immediately put them in pride of place in the front windowsill.

Doreen and Eric’s new house was only a ten minute walk from Gail and Simon’s and was what I heard lots of people describe as a new-build. I had never been inside a bungalow before and wasn’t sure what it was. Yet my quick scamper around with Doreen as she gave us all a guided tour told me that the only difference between a house and a bungalow was that there were no stairs. It was, it appeared to me, like Sal and Peg’s flat, just a bit bigger and with a huge garden they didn’t have to share with other people.

Watching my owner’s lovely mum and dad proudly take us from sunny room to sunny room, I glanced at each of them, noticing the happiness they basked in. Doreen was petite with hair in a neat bob and a warm, open face. As for Eric, well he was the double of Gail, with his chestnut hair that was now almost grey all over, and friendly, welcoming face that always made me feel at home.

As well as the huge garden there were three bedrooms, a bathroom, glass like in a greenhouse that Doreen reliably informed us was a conservatory, whatever that was, along with a huge kitchen and a funny-looking worktop that stood in the centre of the room.

‘That’s my island,’ Doreen told us proudly, as she brought the tour to a close.

‘It’s beautiful, Mum.’ Gail smiled.

‘So pretty,’ breathed Jenny.

‘Very nice,’ put in Sal, her blue eyes filled with admiration as she stroked the dark surface. ‘It’s lovely how it matches the slate tiles.’

‘Well, you wouldn’t have it any other way, would you?’ chirruped Doreen, her silver hair gleaming in the sunshine-filled room.

‘You wouldn’t, dear,’ Eric grumbled good-naturedly at his wife. ‘Shall I make tea?’

Doreen nodded her assent. ‘Good idea. Let’s all go through to the living room before we get stuck into some unpacking.’

As we turned to follow Doreen out of the room, I couldn’t help wonder if I was missing something. I turned to Peg who was standing in the doorway with Hugo beside her.

‘I thought islands were things surrounded by water,’ I yapped in curiosity.

Peg nodded sagely, her blonde fur jiggling almost as much as her lovely jowls. ‘They are. That’s why you never want to get stuck on one. Unless it’s England of course, that’s quite big.’

I turned back to the island and looked at the floor and tiles suspiciously.

‘I’ve got it!’ I barked in excitement. ‘Doreen’s going to put the water around the island separately.’

‘That’s why it’s important the tiles match,’ Peg put in wisely. ‘It all makes sense now.’

‘Does that mean we’ll go on boat trips then, Daddy?’ Hugo asked, his pace matching mine as we joined the others in the lounge. ‘Will I need to learn to swim?’

I nodded. ‘I think there’s every chance you’ll need to do that, Hugo. But don’t worry, us pugs are natural swimmers, you’ll be doggy-paddling around Doreen’s island like there’s no tomorrow.’

Pleased to have solved that little problem, I looked around. There was no denying it, the place looked as chaotic as Gail and Simon’s when we left it.

There were boxes everywhere, all piled on top of one another in various states of disarray. Some were half open, some had contents like duvets, pillowcases, lampshades and even cutlery spilling out and some had been emptied, flung to a corner of the room, to be dealt with some other time.

I looked across at Peg and saw her glance at the upended cardboard. She was rather partial to curling up in a box for a nap, just like me. For a moment I imagined the two of us snoozing the afternoon away nestled in the warmth of each other. But no, there was work to do. Shaking my head to free myself from such thoughts, I glanced up at Gail, who rewarded me with a beaming smile, just as Doreen came through from the kitchen. She was clutching a tray piled high with tea and cakes and I saw with delight Eric appear just behind her, carrying goodies for all us pugs.

‘Water and a bone for you all,’ he said, setting the treats on the floor.

‘Thanks, Eric,’ I woofed along with Peg.

We turned to Hugo to remind him of his manners. Only to find he had started on the chewy treats already.

I opened my mouth, about to tell him off, when Peg beat me to it.

‘Hugo, that’s enough,’ she yapped. ‘Do not show me and your father up in public. You know you don’t eat a treat without saying thank you.’

At the sound of the sternness in his mother’s bark, Hugo dropped his bone to the floor in horror. I could see the fear radiating from his eyes.

‘Oh, Peg, don’t be too harsh on him,’ I whined, my heart full of concern for my poor boy. ‘He’s poorly, he’s not himself.’

Hugo rewarded me with a gentle rub on my snout as he looked apologetically at his mother who was settled by the fireplace.

Peg gave me a lick as she gestured for Hugo to continue. ‘Maybe you’re right, Percy. Perhaps I am being too hard on him. But, honestly, why is he so badly behaved all the time? Is it us? Are we doing something wrong?’

Before I could answer, I saw Hugo had lost interest in the bone and was charging up and down the living room, wagging his tail, scampering through the boxes.

‘Hugo!’ I ordered. ‘Calm down.’

Only my barks fell on deaf ears once more as Hugo darted over to Doreen, who had her hands full of teacups, and jumped up at her.

‘Easy now, love.’ She smiled down at my son. ‘You nearly had me over.’

Hugo didn’t reply. Instead, he charged away from Doreen and rushed over to Eric who was sitting in a chair by the windowsill trying to do the crossword he had found wrapped around a plate.

‘Eric! Eric!’ Hugo barked playfully, sitting at the older man’s feet.

Eric lowered his paper and beamed at my son affectionately before scratching his ear. ‘Hello, Hugo. Heard you ate some potpourri. Can’t say I blame you, it’s all it’s good for.’

‘That’s what I thought!’ Hugo replied, thwacking the floor with his little tail.

‘Did us a favour, boy. Can’t abide the stuff,’ Eric grunted with alarming honesty, causing Simon to burst out laughing.

‘What did I tell you?’ he chuckled, turning to Gail. ‘I said Eric wouldn’t be interested in all that smelly nonsense!’

Jenny sighed and shook her head in mock-exasperation at her father. ‘Dad! It is not nonsense, it’s stuff to make your house pretty.’

‘You tell him, Jen.’ Gail giggled, as she sat cross-legged on the floor and bit into one of the cupcakes her mother had laid out on a plate.

‘So did I really do you a favour, Eric?’ Hugo barked, his eyes shining with pleasure at the thought of one of his actions doing someone a good turn.

‘You can knock a bowl of potpourri over for me anytime.’ He smiled and gave Hugo one last affectionate pat on the head, before turning back to his crossword.

Clearly moved, Hugo jumped up onto Eric’s lap, determined to give Gail’s dad a cuddle filled with gratitude. Yet the sudden movement left me wide-eyed with horror as, despite Hugo having the best of intentions, my boy had jumped on top of Eric’s lap with such gusto he sent the vase filled with Gail’s fresh flowers cascading all over Eric.

‘Oh you dammed dog!’ Eric howled, clearly soaked through. ‘What were you doing?’

‘Is it like the island?’ Hugo barked excitedly. ‘Will I need to swim?’

I rushed over to my son, determined to get to Eric’s aid, but was beaten to it by Doreen, who handed her husband a towel.

‘It was only an accident wasn’t it, Hugo?’ Doreen crooned, picking up the flowers that now littered their new living-room carpet.

‘An accident that could have been avoided if Hugo hadn’t been charging about the place,’ Eric fumed, drying his navy chinos off. ‘Honestly, this dog’s a menace.’

‘He’s not that bad, Dad.’ Gail bridled, as she, Sal and Jen helped Doreen replace the flowers in the vase.

In that moment I loved my owner more than I ever thought possible. Even after all Hugo had done today, she was still defending him.

‘Hugo, come here now, please,’ I ordered from my place next to Peg. ‘Just stay out of the way while Doreen and Eric sort themselves out.’

Obediently, Hugo did just as I asked and, as I gave him a lick, I exchanged a worried glance with Peg. There was no way our son would find his forever home with behaviour like that.

Jenny sat next to Sal on the edge of Doreen’s brown leather sofa and grinned at us. ‘Don’t feel too bad, you guys, it’s hard being a parent.’

Doreen let out a low chuckle as Eric returned to his crossword and she took a seat next to her granddaughter. ‘Know all about it do you, chicken?’

Jenny shrugged as she bent down to kiss my head. ‘No, ‘course not, but I know Mum and Dad had a pretty tough time when I was sick. It can’t be easy raising a family, that’s all I’m trying to say.’

‘Oh bless you, child.’ Doreen smiled, kissing Jenny’s cheek. ‘Why weren’t you more enlightened at this age, Gail?’

Sal roared with laughter. ‘Yes, Gail, why weren’t you more enlightened?’

I looked up at Gail and watched as she spat her tea everywhere. ‘What’s that supposed to mean, Mum?’

‘Nothing.’ Doreen sniffed. ‘Just our Jenny has a very wise head on very young shoulders.’

‘You’re not wrong there,’ Sal agreed, smiling at Jenny.

‘Very true,’ I barked in agreement.

Gail raised an eyebrow. ‘And while it might be true, Mum, if you want a hand getting these boxes unpacked I’d start singing my praises, and possibly Sal’s as well as Jenny’s if I were you.’

‘Fair enough.’ Doreen chuckled, her green eyes radiating the same kindness as her daughter’s. ‘You know I think the world of you, you’re my favourite child!’

‘I’m your only child,’ Gail said, returning her grin. ‘I’m so happy you’ve moved here, it’ll be wonderful having you and Dad on the doorstep.’

Getting to her feet, she pulled her mother in for a hug.

Doreen returned her daughter’s hug, and rubbed her back as if she were no more than Ben’s age. ‘And it’ll be wonderful for us having you so close by. We’ve missed you.’

‘And we’ve missed you,’ Jenny cried.

She rushed towards her mum and gran and wrapped her arms around them. I gulped, I didn’t want to miss out on a family hug. Together with Peg and Hugo, we bounded towards the women and pushed our noses into their laps and knees, much to their delight.

‘They’re everywhere.’ Jenny giggled in delight.

‘Oh you dogs are gorgeous.’ Doreen smiled, bending down to smother us with kisses.

‘And we think you’re gorgeous,’ Hugo barked, licking her hand.

‘But not as gorgeous as Peg and Gail,’ I barked loyally.

Gail beamed down at me, and planted a sloppy kiss on my snout. ‘Percy, you’re the best boy in the entire world.’

I howled in delight. There was nothing nicer than being surrounded by family.

As we broke apart, Sal glanced balefully at a box marked ‘outdoors’. ‘Shall I take this out to the garage?’

Doreen flashed her a grateful smile as she got to her feet. ‘Thanks, love.’

‘And I should get cracking as well.’ Gail smiled, as she finished her second cupcake. ‘Where do you want me?’

Doreen handed her daughter a pair of scissors and gestured to a box with black writing all over it. ‘The pots and pans are in that one,’ she explained. ‘Can you give your father a hand with them in the kitchen. He knows where everything goes.’

Nodding, Gail picked up the box and turned to Eric who was still engrossed in the paper.

‘Are you ready, Dad?’ she asked.

Eric glanced up from the crossword in surprise. ‘Ready for what?’

‘To help me unpack the kitchen stuff,’ Gail replied patiently.

Eric looked blank as he scratched the bald patch on top of his head. ‘If you want, love, though I don’t know where any of it goes.’

‘You do,’ sighed Doreen in exasperation. ‘We discussed it not half an hour ago!’

‘Did we?’ Eric narrowed his blue eyes in confusion.

‘Yes! What’s wrong with you?’ she grumbled. ‘You’re always forgetting things these days.’

‘Am I?’ Eric asked, his blue eyes rich with surprise.

‘Yes!’ Doreen sighed again.

Gail raised her hand in between the two of them.

‘Come on, you two, there’s no sense arguing now. Dad,’ she said, turning to Eric, ‘why don’t you come and help me with all this. I’m sure that together we can work out where everything’s meant to go.’

Eric put down the crossword and obediently got to his feet. ‘All right, love.’

Together they trotted off to the kitchen leaving Doreen alone in the living room. As she set her teacup on the coffee table, she sank her head into her hands.

Watching the rise and fall of her shoulders, I suddenly realised she was crying. Turning to Peg, I gave a little bark of worry and we padded across to the elderly woman.

Getting nearer, I saw her body was wracked with sobs. I was dumbstruck. Doreen always put a brave face on things and I had rarely seen her cry, not even when Jenny was so poorly. She was known for her strength, something Gail had relied upon when they had faced difficult times.

Exchanging worried glances with Peg, we did the only thing we pugs can do in times of crisis. We used our tongues to mop up Doreen’s salty tears, determined to be there for as long as she needed us.

‘Do you think she’s all right?’ I whined quietly to Peg in between licks.

‘Fine,’ she yapped in reply. ‘She’s probably just upset because she’s tired with the move. It’s very distressing you know, upending your home.’

As Doreen’s cries became quieter and she stroked each of us in turn, I moved my head and crawled onto her lap to show her how much I loved her. Breathing in her warm, homely scent, my doggy instinct fired on all cylinders as something told me there was something very wrong indeed.