Читать книгу Creature Comforts - Trisha Ashley - Страница 10

Sandy, the kennelmaid, loomed silently up and waded into the scrum, chasing all the dogs back towards the kennels in a yapping, noisy pack, and I finally managed to get through the door.

Debo didn’t let me have time to do more than dump my bags in my old bedroom up in the eaves, before calling me back down to the small sitting room for the council of war.

Vic and Ginger, the two house dogs, had vanished with the rest, but Babybelle lay like a furry Mont Blanc in front of the empty fireplace.

‘Belle refused to go out with the others and she’s too big to drag, unless one pushes and one pulls,’ Judy said, seeing my glance.

I sat down on one end of a rather hairy sofa and Belle heaved herself up and wearily plodded over, then subsided heavily onto my feet with a sigh. My toes instantly went numb.

Judy exchanged glances with Debo. ‘There, I told you she’d taken to Izzy.’

‘I suppose we’d better try and get her into her kennel before we start, because Sandy will feed them all when she comes back and then Belle will be desperate to get at her dinner. She’ll howl for hours afterwards, too, wanting more food,’ Debo said.

‘That must go down well with the neighbours,’ I commented.

‘Oh, well, most of them don’t mind and it’s not as if we’re right next to anyone. Dan Clew’s cottage is the nearest and he did report the barking to the council last year, but luckily we didn’t have quite as many dogs in at the time and when they measured the noise, it wasn’t so bad. Anyway, they don’t bark all the time.’

‘I’ll get Belle out,’ Judy said, and fetched in a sort of plastic ball with holes in it, filled with doggy treats that Chris, Debo’s canine behavioural specialist, had recommended. I think she could produce an adoring male specialist to provide free advice in any department.

Babybelle looked up when she heard the food rattle; then, as Judy backed out of the room, she slowly hauled herself to her feet, her eyes fixed longingly on the toy.

‘She has to chase it round her run to get the treats out and they’re low calorie, because Judy bakes them herself. Exercise and food – such a good idea,’ Debo said.

‘She is huge!’ I commentated as the bear-like creature ambled out.

‘Quite a lot of that is fur, because the Newfoundland breed has a special double layer to keep them warm when they’re swimming in the icy sea. And she’s got webbed feet too.’

‘Really?’ I said, fascinated. ‘Weird!’

Debo poured coffee and pushed the milk carton my way. The china was a mismatched collection of thick, white, cheap pottery, one or two remnants of Victorian chintz-patterned loveliness and a couple of eighties Portmeirion plates.

‘We can get the biscuits and cake out now without Babybelle bothering us,’ she said happily, opening a tin to reveal Judy’s home-baked pecan biscuits and another containing the coffee and walnut cake that Judy is convinced is my favourite.

Debo cut hefty slices from it and took one for herself.

‘It’s a miracle you aren’t twenty stone, with the amount of sugary things you eat,’ I said.

‘Good metabolism, darling, like you. It’s so lucky you took after my side of the family that way, even if you ended up titchy, like your father.’

Judy returned, dogless. ‘That should hold her for a while,’ she said, sinking back into her usual wing-back chair. ‘If we can get some more weight off, we should be able to rehome her eventually. She’s good-natured enough with people and other dogs. I’ll miss all that lovely hair for my knitting, though.’

Since Debo’s Desperate Dogs was a kind of Last Chance Saloon, rescuing dogs that, for one reason or another, were facing being put down, there was a core group of permanent residents who were unlikely to leave, as well as a fluctuating population of arrivals and departures. But recently there appeared to have been a population explosion.

I said so. ‘I see you’ve had to get Tom to make you some more runs out of old wooden pallets and wire mesh, Debo – they’re right up to the edge of the drive, now!’

‘We were bursting at the seams and it’s flat just there. Besides, I had to put them somewhere,’ she said reasonably.

‘But you’re only licensed for a certain number, and there wouldn’t be quite so many if you didn’t take in dogs that could be easily found new homes by other charities,’ Judy pointed out.

‘But the poor things have had such hard lives that they need a little time and love so they can recover first,’ Debo protested. ‘And anyway, when Baz came back last year – his first flying visit for yonks and he’d put on so much weight that that heart attack was on the cards, Izzy – he didn’t say anything about there being too many dogs, or the kennels spreading round the front just a tiny bit, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind about the extra runs.’

‘The new owner of Sweetwell might not be quite so sanguine about having what looks like a shanty town up the side of his drive,’ Judy said.

This reminded Debo of her grievances and she said indignantly, ‘That will! I’m sure someone must have persuaded Baz not to leave me the Lodge, because he always promised he would. If I had any money, I’d challenge the will on the grounds of undue influence, but he didn’t leave me any of that, either!’

‘If you’d had any money, you’d have instantly spent it all on the dogs,’ Judy said. ‘We’ve got so many unpaid bills, we could wallpaper the entire office with them.’

‘You have got the Lodge for life, haven’t you?’ I asked. ‘That’s what Daisy said.’

‘Yes, but that’s not the same as owning it outright. I mean, apparently I can’t even make small changes to it without permission from this Carlyle man! And he’s already had my sign taken down from the front gate without asking me first, though I got Tom to put it by the turning to the Lodge instead.’

‘I suspect people could find the kennels without a sign,’ I said drily. ‘But I did notice the new one for Rufus Carlyle Garden Antiques – it would be a bit hard to miss, since it’s so big. That’s his name, Carlyle?’

‘Yes, Rufus Carlyle. I do vaguely remember Fliss getting pregnant by some man of that name, back in the mid-seventies, because there was a bit of a scandal in the papers. So since he took his name, this Rufus is probably his child and not Baz’s illegitimate son at all. They should check his DNA against Baz’s, before he moves himself and his business in, lock, stock and barrel.’

‘I’m not even sure you can do that at this stage, but even if you could I think you’re way too late, because a big removal van passed earlier, while you were out,’ Judy said. ‘Myra says she expects him to arrive any day and she’s spring-cleaned the house ready.’

Sweetwell Hall was an ancient, long, low, black and white building with a small brick-built Victorian wing blobbed onto one end like an afterthought, in which the younger of Tom Tamblyn’s two sisters, Myra, her husband and their son, Olly, occupied the upper storey. Myra, Sweetwell’s housekeeper, was such a fanatical cleaner that she practically caught the dust before it hit any surface, so the place was probably already buffed and polished to within an inch of its life.

‘The outbuildings are full of garden antiques now, lorry-loads of them … whatever they are,’ Debo said. ‘When did you talk to Myra, Judy?’

‘I didn’t. Lottie told me when I popped over to the shop for a packet of walnut halves, and she said that Myra was going to make some proper Lancashire hotpots ready for his first dinner in the house, so he could start the way she intended him to go on.’

‘I didn’t think she cooked for Baz,’ I said.

‘Not often, but she did stock the freezer and fridge, so she had a lot of control over what he ate. He always said he didn’t know why he bothered leaving out a list of things he fancied, because she always ignored it.’

‘Presumably they’ve already completely proved this Rufus Carlyle person is Baz’s son, or Baz wouldn’t have acknowledged him in the will,’ I said, returning to the original subject.

‘That’s true, Izzy. Baz was easy-going but he wasn’t stupid, and he must have known Fliss Gambol would have said anything if she thought there was money in it,’ Judy said.

‘She certainly would,’ Debo agreed, her face darkening. ‘She was always trying to take my boyfriends away … and if she hadn’t drawn your mother back into her crowd after you were born, Izzy, I’m sure she’d still be here with us.’

‘Daisy told me all about that,’ I said.

‘Lisa was very young for her age and impressionable,’ Debo explained. ‘I always felt I should have taken better care of her.’

‘You had a career too, don’t forget, and you did your best,’ Judy told her. ‘I haven’t heard much about Fliss for years – what’s she been doing?’

‘I think she’s been on an endless cycle of rehab stays and career relaunches that never quite took off. Now up she pops as the mother of the heir and, reading between the lines of that story she sold to a Sunday rag, she’d let the Carlyle bloke think he was the child’s father until she decided she could get more out of Baz, only a couple of months before he died. I think Baz met Rufus only once – then he goes and leaves Sweetwell to him!’

‘Rufus Carlyle is certainly no child,’ Judy said. ‘He must be a year or two older than Izzy, in his late thirties.’

‘Well, you’ve seen him and I haven’t,’ Debo said. ‘I was away earning an honest crust both times he came to inspect his windfall, so you’d think he was trying to avoid me. Probably a guilty conscience,’ she added darkly.

‘Guilty conscience?’ I asked. ‘If he was really Baz’s son, then I suppose he couldn’t help that.’

‘No, but then he must have got round Baz and talked him into leaving him everything, even the things he’d promised to me,’ Debo said bitterly. ‘It’s so unfair!’

‘But Baz did make sure you could live in the Lodge for the rest of your life, so that’s not so bad. I mean, I know you can’t do anything radical with it, or leave it to anyone else, but he can’t get you out.’

‘But he could object to the kennels encroaching onto his land, or us building any more,’ Judy said. ‘And though I didn’t tell you at the time, Debo, because I knew it would upset you even more, Fliss came for a snoop round one day, with Dan Clew in tow.’

Debo stared at her. ‘When was this?’

‘When you were away the first time. I opened the door and there she was, looking like one of the Living Dead. I told her she had a nerve, showing her face anywhere near you – and it was just as well you weren’t there, Debo, or you’d have set the dogs onto her.’

‘Too true: I would.’

‘She said the kennels were a total eyesore and her son wanted them cleared away as soon as possible. Then Dan Clew put in his two pennyworth and told her Baz had been trying to get us to remove them from his land for years, not to mention complaining about vicious dogs constantly escaping and the noise problem, but we hadn’t taken any notice.’

‘Dan Clew is a lying toad who would do anything to get us out of the Lodge! And the brazen cheek of the woman, coming to my home after what she did!’ Debo said furiously. ‘I hope you didn’t let her set foot over the threshold.’

‘No, and I told her Dan was lying and Baz had been a dog-lover who completely supported what we were doing with the Refuge. Then she said even if that was true, Rufus certainly didn’t feel the same way and then I slammed the door on her. She seemed to be getting on very well with Dan,’ she added.

‘Well, she would – she’d sleep with anything male and he’s never been that fussy, either.’

‘She’s a fast worker though, because Myra said afterwards that she’d been staying with friends not far away and only called in out of curiosity to have a quick look at the place.’

‘She hasn’t got any friends,’ Debo said. ‘It was probably another rehab clinic.’

‘We’ve only got her word for it that her son wants the kennels removed,’ I said. ‘He might be another dog-lover.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Judy said, ‘because actually he did say something about the kennels near the drive not giving a good impression to customers when he opened the garden antiques centre for business. And then Goldie – he’s a big mastiff cross, Izzy – got out that very night and went up to Sweetwell. Myra was too terrified to hang the washing out next morning until I’d been and collected him.’

‘He only hates men,’ Debo said. ‘And he didn’t actually bite, he just threatened to.’

‘Perhaps, but you can understand that he wouldn’t want big, vicious-looking dogs bouncing up to customers,’ I said.

‘Well, Goldie’s gone to live with a woman in an isolated Scottish croft now, and she loves him to bits,’ Debo told me.

A lorry covered in a flapping tarpaulin went past and on up the drive, rattling the diamond-paned windows. ‘That’s probably another load of garden antiquities,’ Judy said. ‘When we took some of the dogs up there first thing this morning, the courtyard was full of old wrought-iron gates, fountains, wheelbarrows and even bits of ancient farm machinery.’

‘What’s this Rufus Carlyle like?’ I asked her.

‘I don’t really know. He’s always called at dusk, like a vampire. A bit brusque, deepish voice, quite tall, late thirties.’

‘Fliss must have had her fling with Baz a couple of years before he and I became an item, if Rufus is his,’ Debo said. ‘I wouldn’t have looked at him if I’d known she’d got there first.’

‘According to that newspaper article, it was only a brief encounter in a storage cupboard at a well-known restaurant,’ Judy said.

‘She certainly put it about a bit,’ Debo said disparagingly.

‘So did you,’ pointed out her friend with brutal honesty.

‘I had relationships – one at a time – and I was fond of them all,’ Debo said indignantly. ‘I still am and they’re all still good friends. That’s what makes Baz’s betrayal over the will so much worse – and I don’t think I could bear it if Fliss moved in to Sweetwell, too.’

‘Oh, I shouldn’t think she will. I’m sure she has her own place in London and that must be much more her scene. In fact, she said Halfhidden was Hicksville and she couldn’t imagine how we could stand living here,’ Judy said.

‘Good, because I’d have to kill her if she did move in. Where could we hide the body?’

‘We’d think of somewhere,’ Judy said.

Debo sighed and said gloomily, ‘I don’t think any son of Fliss Gambol can possibly be nice. And moving my sign without asking, then complaining about the kennels just shows you what he’s going to be like.’

‘I expect Dan Clew has been poisoning his mind against us,’ Judy said, turning to me. ‘That man’s been all bitterness and bile since he made that heavy pass at Debo and she turned him down in no uncertain terms.’

‘As if!’ Debo said scathingly.

‘After the accident, he took against me, too,’ I said. ‘Remember how he told me when I got back from Daisy’s not to try to contact Simon, when the thought hadn’t even entered my head?’

‘He got the wrong end of the stick,’ Debo said. ‘It was Simon who tried to contact you when you were still in hospital, but you weren’t well enough at the time. And then afterwards, Dan sent him to stay with his sister in Durham till his college term started.’

‘You never mentioned that before,’ I said, staring at her. ‘I wonder what he wanted to see me about.’

‘I think he blamed himself for not realising his drink had been spiked that night, but of course it wasn’t his fault,’ Judy said. ‘He was distraught after the accident, so I suppose you can’t really blame Dan for trying to protect his son, in his own misguided way.’

‘Simon was always a nice boy, so his mother must have been lovely, because he can’t have got his good nature from Dan,’ Debo said.

‘Is Dan still going round with a shotgun under his arm, pretending he’s the estate manager?’ I asked.

‘Yes, darling,’ Debo said, ‘but don’t worry because it’s unloaded. He knew Baz would have sacked him instantly if he attempted to shoot even a rabbit on his land, because he was only easy-going up to a point.’

‘Dan’s a horrible man,’ I said, taking another slice of cake. There is something perfect about the union of coffee icing and walnut halves …

Debo suddenly sat up straighter. ‘What if this Rufus isn’t like Baz and thinks Dan ought to shoot any loose dogs running round on his property?’

Judy thought about it. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. He seemed all right really.’

‘Maybe it would be an idea to invite him to tea and try to win him over to our side?’ suggested Debo cunningly.

‘Good idea! I can stuff him full of fairy cakes to sweeten him up, and you can exert your charms on him,’ agreed Judy. ‘He must have some of Baz’s genes, so it might just work.’

‘True, and I expect once we’ve had a chance to explain what we’re doing, he’ll understand how vital it is to rescue these poor dogs,’ agreed Debo, brightening up in her usual mercurial way. ‘Maybe he’ll even help support our work.’

‘I think we’d better get to know him a little before suggesting anything like that,’ Judy cautioned her. ‘And there are bound to be some changes. Tom’s worried that he’ll want to alter the way things have always been at the Lady Spring.’

‘We’ll just have to wait and see,’ I said. ‘Meanwhile, you said you had a huge financial crisis, Debo.’

‘We certainly do,’ Judy said grimly. ‘I’ve only just found out the half of it.’

‘The thing is, that when Baz promised to leave me the Lodge, I sort of borrowed some money against it,’ Debo confessed. ‘It was when I had that enormous vet’s bill for Benjy, though we had to try the operation, and then afterwards the pills cost hundreds a month … And in the end the poor old boy died, though we had a lovely few extra months with him.’

‘I don’t think borrowing against a house that wasn’t actually yours was a good idea,’ I said with restraint.

‘I know, but I’d got behind with Sandy’s wages and then the suppliers said they wouldn’t send me any more dog food until I’d paid the bill in full for the last lot …’

‘And now we keep getting final demands from the electricity company, plus we ran out of oil for the central heating in February,’ put in Judy.

‘I thought you’d turned if off a bit early this year!’

‘Luckily it’s been quite warm, except in the evenings,’ Judy said.

‘I managed to get a couple of donations from friends to tide us over, but I suppose I am in a bit of a hole,’ Debo admitted.

‘You can say that again,’ I said. ‘How much do you need?’

I whistled when she told me. ‘It’s just as well I’m going to be around from now on and I’ll bail you out with what remains of the money my father left me. It should clear the major outstanding debts, at least. That’s a start.’

‘You’ll do no such thing,’ Judy said firmly. ‘Debo’s made sure your money was safe all these years, to give you something to start you off when you settled down.’

‘That’s right. I’ll just have to squeeze my friends a bit harder and maybe take more work when it’s offered, even if I do hate going away so much,’ Debo said. ‘That legacy was for you, to start your own business, or buy a place of your own. Didn’t you tell me that Kieran wanted you to use it as a deposit on your first home together?’

‘That was never going to happen and I’ve told him so. We’ve had a few arguments lately and … well, I’ve made up my mind that I’m staying here, in Halfhidden,’ I told them. ‘I’ve already bought the first stock and I can start my business in a small way in the studio and then, when it takes off, buy a place of my own. So you see, I don’t need the rest of that money.’

‘But … what about Kieran? I mean, you were going to get married and although I know you didn’t take to his parents—’ Judy began.

‘Understatement of the year,’ I said, and then told them what had brought me home earlier than expected, and my resolution to face the past and forge a new future here in Halfhidden.

‘That Douglas man sounds like a complete tosser,’ Debo said critically. ‘And as to Kieran’s mother – well, Judy and I were planning the sweetest little economy wedding in the Halfhidden church, with a tent on the Green for the reception. I know a sheep farmer with a big marquee who would lend it to us for the day. He uses it to put his in-lamb ewes in when the weather’s cold and wet.’

‘That was exactly what I wanted and I’ve already made my own wedding dress,’ I agreed.

‘It could still happen because you might feel differently when Kieran turns up on the doorstep,’ Judy said thoughtfully. ‘Once he’s seen sense, that is.’

‘If he sees sense, and I’m not convinced he ever will. But one thing I am certain of is that I’m home for good, so even if we did have a future together, he’d be the one making the concessions and moving up here.’

‘Attagirl,’ Debo said. ‘All those years of negotiating with stubborn village elders and minor officials has given you a bit of attitude!’

‘And I want you to have the money, Debo – think of it as a loan.’

‘A loan I’d probably never be able to pay back,’ she said honestly.

‘Oh, I don’t know. Just think how much they paid you for that cameo part in a blockbuster film a couple of years ago! That would have practically been enough on its own. But I do have one or two conditions for lending you the money …’

‘Conditions?’ Debo echoed, her large grey eyes widening.

‘Yes. I know that Judy runs the household affairs and pays those bills, and I don’t want to mess with that – though I’d like to know where she gets the money from,’ I added, the thought only just occurring to me.

‘Oh, Debo puts a bit into the joint household account whenever she earns anything,’ Judy said. ‘We’ve got to try and keep a roof over our heads and eat, after all. But I’ve got a small income and my pension too, though it never seems to go far enough.’

‘You shouldn’t have to put all your own money in! Wasn’t Debo paying you a wage at one time?’ I asked.

Judy shrugged. ‘At first, when you were a baby and I looked after you full time, but later … well, I live here too, so it was share and share alike.’

‘But if anything happens to Debo, you won’t even have a roof over your head now, have you thought of that?’

‘I hadn’t!’ Debo exclaimed. ‘How awful of me! Judy darling, we should be paying into a pension for you, or something, just in case!’

‘Too late, and in any case, you’re the thin, rangy sort who’ll live for ever, while by now my heart is probably totally encased in fat,’ Judy said. ‘Anyway, leaving aside the household expenses, what are your conditions, Izzy?’

‘That I take over the kennels paperwork,’ I said. ‘The office looks as if someone removed the ceiling and tipped in a lorry-load of scrap paper. I know the only thing Debo’s kept in order are the dogs’ records, and those are out in the shed, so that’s probably partly Sandy’s doing.’

‘She does keep them updated and runs a tidy shed,’ Judy agreed.

Sandy Lane, a local farmer’s daughter, was by nature taciturn and solitary, apart from the dogs, and liked to eat her lunch, drink her tea and do her paperwork in a converted shed, where she had a comfy chair, radio, table and smelly paraffin stove.

It was there, when they did manage to rehome a dog, that she made the new owner pay a small fee and buy a suitable collar and lead before letting them leave.

‘I don’t mind in the least if you want to take the office side over, because it’s a nightmare – I mean, I’m a charity,’ Debo said, as if that excused her from any form of paperwork. ‘I shove all the receipts into a box and once a year the accountant comes here and sifts through them, but he says he despairs of me.’

‘I’m not surprised. If ever the taxman decides to do a complete inspection of the books, they’ll wipe the floor with you.’

‘Is that it – you just want to help me with the paperwork?’ asked Debo.

‘Pretty much. I think we need to find better ways of ordering things and making ends meet, but I’ll work on it. And you have to admit you have way too many dogs!’

‘I don’t like to turn them down,’ she said sheepishly.

‘I know, but some of them are not desperate dogs at all, they just need rehoming, so you could pass those on to larger rescue places where they can find new owners more easily.’

‘Sandy and I have both told her that,’ Judy said. ‘We have contacts who could help, and they could always return the dogs if they can’t rehome them.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ Debo conceded reluctantly.

‘If we do end up having to remove all the kennels outside the garden boundary, it’s going to be the only way we can carry on,’ Judy pointed out.

‘Well, think about it while I deal with the financial crisis and get things back on an even keel,’ I suggested.

‘I still don’t think you should rush into giving us your money, Izzy. You’ve had a shock and you’ve been working so hard,’ Judy said. ‘You need to rest and recover before you make a big decision like that.’

‘No, go with your heart,’ Debo urged me. ‘Not about the money, but about where you want to live and work.’

‘I’ve already made my mind up about all of those,’ I said, ‘and what’s more, now I’m back for good, I also intend facing up to my past head-on.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Judy.

‘That I’m on a mission to talk to everyone closely involved in the accident that killed Harry, so I can get as true a picture as possible of what happened that night. I should have done it years ago, because I’m sure when I have I’ll really be able to put it behind me at last.’

They exchanged worried glances.

‘I’m not sure that’s the best idea. It was so long ago, everyone has forgotten about it,’ Judy said.

‘But I don’t think they have, they just don’t talk about it. Even you two have never really discussed what happened with me, but now you’re going to have to.’

‘Well … we will if you really want us to,’ Judy said, and Debo reluctantly agreed.

‘I don’t think you should rake it all up again, but if you’re determined to do it, then we’ll help you, of course.’

‘We don’t even like to think of it,’ Judy said. ‘At one point we really thought we’d lost you, when the line on the monitor went flat …’

‘I expect that was while I was in Heaven, before I had to come back,’ I said. ‘I know neither of you really believe that I went there, but it was totally real – and anyway, if it wasn’t, then how did I know that Harry and Patch were both dead?’

‘That was odd,’ Debo admitted. ‘But the nurses might have talked about the accident and we may have mentioned Patch, so your subconscious probably absorbed the information.’

I gave up on that tack. ‘Apart from the visit to Heaven, the last thing I remember before waking in hospital was being in the car park on my way home from the pub and telling Harry I couldn’t go to the party with him and the others. There’s a huge blank to fill in, so I’d really appreciate any help you can give me.’

And they did answer my questions about that night, though of course by the time they’d arrived on the scene of the accident, everyone except Harry was out of the car and the ambulance was on its way.

It obviously upset them to remember it, but I also had the oddest impression that Judy was holding something back …

After that, I went upstairs to unpack my things, and then into my studio for a while. Whenever I’d returned I’d always been grateful that it hadn’t been turned into emergency kennelling but was always just as I’d left it, with my old sketchbooks, rolls of fabric and drawers of odds and ends awaiting me.

It felt comforting, even with the niggling worry about whether this unknown son of Baz’s would change things – or, worse still, that his mother would turn up again and start interfering, though from the sound of it she hadn’t found the quiet backwater of Halfhidden to her liking.

But I certainly did, and as the car had headed up the hill on my way home, I’d felt sure I was following my true destiny once again.

Now, that certainty folded softly round me with the downy warmth of angel’s wings.