‘Thank you all, thank you so much,’ said Cassie, attempting to scramble to her feet. Unfortunately, she found that the suction power of mud combined with the bulk of her outfit left her struggling like an upturned beetle.
‘Never mind,’ declared the hearty lady, whose name turned out to be Phyllis. ‘We’ve all taken a tumble at some time or another. Rite of passage around here.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Cassie could see the figures of a man and a dog slipping through the gate. On a positive note, word appeared to have spread among the Bichons that there was a human face at ground level, and she felt her face plastered with tiny licks.
‘Grab them, please,’ she wailed, and between the assembled crowd, they gathered up the tiny brown blobs and clipped them back on their leads. Finally, she managed to roll over and scramble to a standing position. Mam had suggested that she bring cards and hand them out, but with a layer of mud drying on her back like an off-duty hippo, it just didn’t seem like the moment to mention Waggy Walks or her supposed professional status. Timing was everything. She resigned herself to thanking the ladies and squelched off with what was left of her dignity.
Limping back up the hill, she registered the tall balaclava-clad figure loping off in the opposite direction with the chastened shape of Thor. A surge of fury ran through her. There was no way he was getting off scot-free like that. No way. ‘Excuse me,’ she heard herself bellow across the grass. ‘Excuse me!!!’
That tall figure looked around in confusion, then spotted her and waved slightly. Idiot, he didn’t seem to have a clue how serious this was.
‘I just think,’ she roared as she approached him, ‘that you should have a lot more control of your dog. He’s enormous and very dangerous.’
It seemed to be taking a moment for the penny to drop, though it was hard to know for sure under his balaclava.
‘Yeah, sorry, he gets excited.’
It was a pleasant voice, which wasn’t making it easy to stay cross with him, but she wasn’t giving up that easily. ‘Yes, well. I could have been badly injured and I think we all need to be more responsible. That’s all.’
It sounded a bit self-righteous, but she was totally in the right, she reminded herself.
‘OK, sure. You’re right.’ He nodded and looked decidedly contrite. ‘I’ll remember that for next time.’
He trudged off up the hill, leaving her feeling annoyingly guilty.
‘OK, well .?.?. Bye, then,’ she called after him, for no good reason.
At that moment she caught sight of her shadow and realised with a shock that she looked like a hot-water tank in boots. Yes, well. She wasn’t trying to impress anybody. At least she’d made her point with Mr Balaclava.
The stares at her dishevelled appearance didn’t bother her at all. Today had gone about as badly as it possibly could have and yet she’d survived.
Back at her auntie’s house, Cassie registered the horror on Augusta’s face when she and the dogs appeared at the door.
‘It’s all right, nobody’s hurt.’
She soon realised that Augusta wouldn’t have given a shite if the whole lot of them had sunk in quicksand.
Cassie was led into a delightful wet room lined with sand-coloured Italian tiles; the sort of bathroom Mam could only dream of. This, she was informed, was the dogs’ bathroom. The next half hour was spent showering the dogs, which resulted in her getting fairly soaked herself. Still, as the room was warm and steamy, it proved a dizzying if not totally unpleasant experience.
‘Heaven help you,’ said Patricia, seated in her beautifully appointed conservatory, when she handed Cassie a fifty-euro note. The six little bodies were now snow-white once again and curled up in their beds, fast asleep like little angels.
‘You’ve obviously done a great job with them.’ Patricia was dressed in cashmere leisure trousers and a voluminous cashmere sweater which engulfed her like an exquisite beige hug. She appeared to have absolutely no idea of the chaos going on in the outside world.
‘I’ll see you back here tomorrow,’ she purred.
Cassie inhaled with the intention of explaining that another day might actually be more than her nerves could stand, when something stopped her. She’d no other source of income. Life had to be lived, after all.
‘Sure, thanks, I’ll see you then.’ She beamed at Patricia before heading as fast as she could towards the statement front door.
* * *
‘Holy God, what happened? Were you dog walking or mud wrestling?’
‘Don’t ask.’
‘What did that old wagon have you doing? Was it desperate?’
‘No, actually, it was great,’ she heard herself reply.
