“This isn’t a holiday,” Mark tells her.
Half an hour?thinks Sally. With her children involved, that’s impossible, unless Corinne has arranged for some masked gunmen to appear and chase them through the corridors. Ree will need to do at least twenty minutes of sighing before she moves, and Tobes will want to interrogate the proposal rigorously from every angle (the more mature equivalent of “But why?”) to check there are no holes in it that might enable him to head straight for a luxury Jacuzzi instead, as he’d hoped to.
“Where in Norfolk?” Sally asks.
“It’s a dog day-care and boarding kennels called West Acres, near Weybourne on the coast. It’s a good, high-end place: soft, snuggly dog beds, real wool blankets. Owners receive regular postcards from their pets while they’re away, with photos of them doing fun activities.”
“No,” says Mark. “I’m sorry, Corinne. I know you’re trying to help, but I’m not prepared to keep—”
“We’re going,” Sally says flatly.
“Mum, you have to let Dad speak, even if you don’t listen to him,” says Ree, for which consideration Mark thanks her.
“Champ and I are going,” says Sally. “No one else has to come ifthey don’t want to.” She hasn’t heard the plan yet, but her trust in Corinne has been consolidated, thanks to the exchange of messages with Lesley Gavey she has just read on Corinne’s phone. Corinne handed it over without delay or protest, which allowed Sally to see that what had passed between the two women was anything but friendly:
Lesley:Hi, Corinne, it’s Lesley Gavey here from the Stables, Bussow Court. Avril Mattingley gave me this number, so I hope it’s the right one to use for you. Both she and Jemima Taggart have told me, separately, that they saw Sally Lambert in your car yesterday, and now it looks like no one’s in at the Hayloft, even though Mark and Sally’s cars are both there. You should be aware that the Lamberts’ dog has bitten my daughter, Tess, and there’s barely anything left of her arm. I think the doctors are afraid she might lose it, though they’re not saying that because they don’t want to frighten us. Anyway, that dog needs to be put to sleep, obviously, and the police are on it, but I’m concerned that the Lamberts have taken it into their heads to run off somewhere to protect their animal, because that’s exactly the sort of stupid, arrogant thing they would do. If by any chance they’re with you, Corinne, you need to get on the right side of this one and tell them to come home and face up to the damage they’ve caused. Are they with you? Jemima says you’ve got houses all over the country. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how bad it would look if the papers got hold of a story about a billionaire using her immense privilege to give shelter to criminals. Are the Lamberts with you right now, Corinne? If they are, you really do need to ring me immediately and help to sort this out. Yours, Lesley Gavey.
Corinne:Hi, Lesley. Champ Lambert didn’t bite your daughter. I’m not quite a billionaire, though I’m looking forward to achieving that within the next seven to ten years. You’re a liar and an unhinged psychopath. Corinne.
Sally feels awful for having doubted Corinne even for a second. “Did you tell the people in Norfolk that I won’t let Champ out of my sight?” she asks. Presumably most dogs who go to West Acres Boarding Kennels stay there without their owners. They must, if sending postcards is part of their itinerary.
“First thing I said.” Corinne beams proudly. “You can be with Champ the whole time, sleep side by side as usual.”
“No. Absolutely not. I’m not sleeping in a kennel.” Mark has never sounded more dogmatic.
“No one’s trying to make you.” Sally sighs. “Seriously, Champ and I will be fine. I’m happy to sleep with him in a luxury kennel. How long will it be for?”
“I’m definitely up for it,” says Tobes. “Kennel party! It’ll be crease. We can get some beers in, play a few tunes—”
“No, Toby, we can’t,” says Sally. “We’d wake up all the other dogs.”
“And you’re supposed to let sleeping ones lie,” Ree quips.
“We need to be as silent and invisible as possible.” Sally turns to Corinne. “How’s it going to be safe? Didn’t you have to give them Champ’s name and ours?”
“I told them enough but not everything. Don’t worry, Sal. It’s risk-free. It’s my son and his wife’s place.”
“Oh. Okay.” This sounds more reassuring.
“And…there’s safety in numbers and crowds,” says Corinne. “A kennels with dozens of dogs in it is a great place to hide a dog.”
Either that or it’s the very worst place; Sally can’t decide.
“Maybe we can have a kennel each, if they’re not too busy?” Ree says hopefully. “I’d love that if it’s possible. I’ve shared hotel rooms with Toby in the past. He manages to destroy them beyond all salvation within, like, ten minutes of entering.”
“I’m not prepared to go along with this anymore,” says Mark.
“Be quiet,” Sally orders.
“No, I won’t.” He stands up. “We’ve only just got here. You said we’d be safe here, Corinne, and now you’re deciding we’re not? Now you’re asking us to do another…what? Six- or seven-hour drive? Corinne, no one knows we’re here. What, just because Lesley Gavey sent you that message? That doesn’t mean she knows we’re here, does it?”
“It’s just about possible she could find out that I own this house,” Corinne says. “I know Sally doesn’t want to take that risk. If the police turn up with a warrant—”
“A warrant? You’re mad. You’re all mad!” Mark grabs at his hair with both hands.
“Please sit down and listen,” Corinne says calmly. “Let’s be honest: None of us knows anything about how the police handle dog-bite allegations. A warrant sounds absurd, I agree. And yet. I did a bit of Googling, and…well, some people’s dogs do get seized by the authorities and put down, Mark. It happens.”
“And so we’re going to Norfolk, becausethat is not happening to Champ,” Sally says emphatically, imagining a world in which she,Sally Lambert, has the power to take Lesley Gavey to Vets4Pets in Newmarket and request that the lovely staff there inject her with something lethal…
