‘Hello!’ she said, reaching out to let it sniff her hand. ‘Where did you come from?’
The dog slowly wagged its tail, licked her hand, and stepped closer.
‘Oh, you like a fuss, do you? There you go, boy,’ she said, stroking his neck and patting him gently. ‘You’re a wolfhound, I think. Is that what you are? No collar. Did you get out of your apartment, hey?’ She peered up and down the hallway. None of the other doors were open and no-one was about. She thought of taking him down to the foyer but at that moment the great dog brushed past her, loped through the flat, stepped effortlessly up onto the sofa, and lay down.
Emily laughed at him. ‘Well, you’ve certainly made yourself at home.’ She shut the door and sat down beside him. He instantly snuggled up to her, softly beating his tail against the cushions in a happy wag. Emily broke off a bit of pizza for him. ‘You like that, boy? You do, don’t you.’ She knew the sensible thing to do was ring down to Deri and let him know about her visitor, but maybe that could wait, just for a little bit. She clicked the remote to set the film running and settled down to watch with her new companion.
A while later, she was woken up by the sound of the door opening. Blearily she opened her eyes to see her father standing in the doorway, mouth open, staring ather. As she came to properly she realised the hound was still with her, his head on her lap.
‘What the hell?’ Tudor asked.
‘Hi Dad. How d’you like my friend?’
‘How did that get in here?’ he asked, stepping forwards, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
‘I heard him in the hallway.’
‘You opened the door?’
‘Well,duh!’
‘When I expressly told you not to open it to anyone except Deri?’
‘I assumed you meant anyone human. I mean, you didn’t say anything about dogs. And he was hungry.’ She pointed at the empty pizza box. ‘Turns out he likes pepperoni.’
‘How can I leave you on your own if you’re not going to follow my instructions?’
‘Instructions? I’m not one of your principals, Dad. And anyway, you were the one went running off into the night on some bloody important mission.’
‘I’m just trying to keep you safe.’
‘So why leave me on my own then?’ she demanded, standing up. The dog got up to stand next to her.
‘I’m trying to find out why we were attacked in Manchester. Debs had been doing some digging, found some important information.’
‘Debs?’ She was quick to notice the familiar name. ‘What…theDebs? From before? Your mistress?’ She felt her defensiveness turning to real anger.
‘That was a long time ago, Pumpkin…’
‘Don’t fuckingPumpkinme!’
‘Look, it’s not what you think. Like I said…’
‘Oh forget it, Dad. Don’t even start. It’s like it was before, all over again! Lies and broken promises…’
‘No, really…’
‘Un-bloody-believable! I really thought you’d changed. Really thought you could be a proper father…’
The dog suddenly bounded forward. For a second, Emily thought he was going to leap at Tudor, but then she saw Deri standing in the open doorway. The dog trotted up to him, wagging his tail. Embarrassed, she looked at her feet while her father turned round.
The caretaker did his best to smooth over the awkward situation.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr Tudor. Silly dog must have slipped through the front door and wandered up the stairs. You’d think I’d notice him going past the reception desk, wouldn’t you, being the size he is?’ He laughed, putting his hand on the dog’s neck.
Emily watched her father master his own embarrassment. Theirs was not the sort of conversation he’d wantoverheard by anyone. She expected him to tear the old boy off a strip; to have a go at him for lax security or something, but instead, he was just staring at the dog. And the dog was staring back at him. Not in a threatening way, but not in the same soppy way he had interacted with her either. Deri noticed it too and took his hand off the animal, which then very deliberately walked over to stand in front of Tudor. It sniffed him carefully and sat down. Emily waited to see how her father would react. He had never been much of a dog person. They’d only ever had a cat when she was smaller. There was something intense about the way he was looking at the hairy hound. Slowly, he reached out and laid his hand on its great head. He appeared to have completely forgotten their argument, or how uncomfortable he had been only seconds ago. To her surprise, he squatted down so that he was eye-level with the sitting dog. He gently, tenderly, she thought, held its head in his hands and uttered a single word.
‘Taran.’
