ONE
‘Turn right, then you will reach your destination.’
The droning voice of the satnav cut into my thoughts, and I slowed my car down as I looked for the entrance. Ah, there it was, a painted sign on a low wall saying ‘Lyonscroft’. I turned into the driveway and was greeted by a glorious view. Huge lawns, iced with frost, flanked the narrow road and at the far side of one I saw a figure on a trotting horse, the breath of both clouding the cold morning air. The house that stood before the lawns was simply magnificent: a Georgian villa of immaculate proportions and symmetry, built of beautiful, honeyed local stone and boasting three storeys, with two wings of two storeys each. A lichened path edged with rose bushes, bare now, led to the front door, and either side of the columned porch were huge bow windows. I had only ever paid to visit houses like this; it was odd, but also exciting, to think that I would be living here. I followed the drive around to the side of the house, where I could see a couple of other cars, and got out. I went to get my things out of the back of the car and a wave of well-being washed over me as the cold air hit my face and I drank in the perfect silence.
‘Hey, you!’
The silence was broken by a loud, slightly panicky, male voice. Was he yelling atme? I looked around but couldn’t see anyone, so I carried on; it was probably someone calling their dog or something.
‘Hey, you, over by the car!’
Not their dog; definitely me. I put my bags on the gravel and closed the door of the car, looking around again. Now, I spotted a man in a thicket of trees about fifty yards away, waving both arms above his head. Waving back, I jogged over and, as I got closer, the man disappeared back into the trees. I hesitated as it occurred to me that running into the woods after strange men might come with its hazards, then ploughed on. Notwithstanding my reluctance to get involved with my sister Steph’s upcoming wedding, I am generally a helpful person who goes towards people in need, and the flitting images of what might happen next were swept away by my desire – maybe even my need – to be of assistance.
‘Hello?’
I had reached the trees.
‘Over here!’
The voice sounded muffled now, but was loud enough to locate, so I swung a left. I’m not sure what I had expected to find – someone who had fallen and hurt an ankle, perhaps, or a wounded rabbit in need of care. I would have liked that. What I hadnotexpected to be confronted with was the – admittedly rather nice – view of a long pair of legs and a bottom clad in black jeans poking out of some thick shrubbery. The man’s voice spoke again.
‘For goodness’ sake, Steve, let me get a proper hold of you.’
The mystery grew deeper. Maybe Steve was the rabbit? I cleared my throat artificially loudly, not wanting to make Black Jeans jump, or for him to say something he might regret me hearing.
‘Er, you needed some help?’
The legs and bottom started backing out of the bush towards me, and I stood aside as they were followed by a slim torso in a waxed jacket and a handsome, if dishevelled, head. The man had thick, chestnut brown hair with matching eyes and stubble, and looked worried. He frowned at me.
‘It’s my bloody dog; he’s got himself stuck in the middle of this bush –again– and he can’t get out. Go in, would you, and grab him? You’re smaller than me; I couldn’t get close enough. Why I ever thought a red setter was a good idea, I don’t know.’
I stared at him as a scuffling noise and small yelp came from the depths of the bush.
‘Sorry, you wantmeto go in there and get your dog?’
‘Yes.’ He suddenly smiled, and his face transformed. Still handsome, yes, that hadn’t changed, but now I saw humour and laughter and my knees threatened to give way. If he wasn’t careful, he’d have two of us to rescue. ‘I can lend you my coat,’ he went on, unzipping and shrugging it off. ‘It’s pretty tough, you shouldn’t get scratched.’
‘Er, okay,’ I said, taking it and putting it on over my own down jacket. It smelt of fresh air and woodsmoke and was warm from his body. I was still slightly confused by the turn of events, but now that a clear way to help had materialised, I geared up to spring into action. ‘Steve, was it?’
‘That’s right,’ said the man. ‘He won’t bite, but he might get a lick in. Just grab his collar, would you, and make sure his legs aren’t stuck.’
‘I’ll do my best…’
I bent down and peered into the gloomy interior of the bush, then knelt and started working my way in. Ah, there was Steve, or his head at least, smooth and shiny and the same shade of rich chestnut as his owner’s. I could have sworn a smile came over his doggy face when he saw me, and he emitted a little whine.
‘Okay, Steve, it’s all right, I’ve come to help you,’ I said in my best nurse’s voice, and I reached out to pat him. I was rewarded with a very wet lick. ‘Eurgh.’
‘Are you all right in there?’ said the man, his voice anxious. I wasn’t entirely sure if his concern was for me or the dog.
‘Yes, fine,’ I replied with more conviction than I felt. ‘Just getting him now.’
Wriggling a little closer and glad of the coat that was protecting much of me, as the twigs snatched at my hair, I fumbled down Steve’s neck until I could grasp his collar. Now that I was nearer, he took the opportunity to plant another wet lick, all the way up my cheek this time.
‘Yuck,’ I said, wiping my gritty hand across my face. ‘I know you’re pleased to see me, but could you tone it down a little?’
Securing my position on my knees, I ran the hand that wasn’t holding his collar down his front legs.
‘All right, those aren’t stuck,’ I said, and gave a little tug on the collar. ‘Can you come this way a bit so I can check the back ones?’
