Everyonewould know whose land Imogen’s dog had been found on. In a place like Ripton, Imogen only needed to tell one person and it would be all over the village by nightfall.
Everyone would be saying that she, Nancy, was the Canine Killer.
It was a joke. A cruel, humourless joke played on her.
Her phone rang. It was Beth.
‘Um...I’ve just had a notification on my phone of a news article...’
Nancy explained.
‘The bitch!’ said Beth. ‘Howdareshe! You need to do something.’
‘Do what? There’s nothing I can do. She’s been very careful not to break the law.’
‘Except meanwhile the jungle drums will be thrumming constantly.’
‘Until I’m tomorrow’s fish-and-chip paper.’
The two women lapsed into silence.
‘This is so not fair,’ said Beth. ‘You want me to come over?’
‘Don’t be daft. It’s eight o’clock at night and the weather’s awful.’
‘Honestly, I don’t mind. I can hear in your voice – you’re upset.’
She was – she was devastated, but she didn’t want to let on to Beth. ‘It’s fine. I’m a big girl, I can look after myself.’
After she’d hung up, Nancy wasn’t so sure if she could look after herself. When exactly had things got so bad? She’d come here in good faith, with a desire for herself and Lara to start a new life. She’d wanted to make friends, be a part of the community. And yet she was somehow implicated in a heartless crime and had made enemies with the most powerful woman in the village who was intent on making her life hell.
Nancy could hear the hum of the shower pump upstairs – Lara was getting ready for bed. At pick-up, Lara had come out of school, looking concerned.
‘Mum,’ she’d said quietly when they’d left the playground and were walking home. ‘I heard two girls talking about you today. In break. But when I got closer to them, they stopped and ran away.’
‘What were they saying?’ asked Nancy carefully.
‘I don’t know. Something about a dog. We’re not getting a dog, are we?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Afraid not,’ said Nancy.
‘So what was it about?’
Nancy had considered. Should she tell Lara so she was pre-warned? It would upset her so much. She’d decided against it. ‘I’ve no idea,’ she’d said, smiling brightly. ‘Probably best to ignore it.’
Nancy got up from the sofa and drew the curtains back to look out of the living room window. It was pitch black and her own reflection stared back at her. She could still make out the snow drifting past the glass; flakes in their millions.
She suddenly felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable. Framed in the light for anyone to see.
She yanked the curtains shut again and, realizing her heart was going like the clappers, took in some long, deep breaths. An instinct made her go and check all the doors were locked; satisfied they were, she went upstairs to say goodnight to Lara.
EIGHTY
Saturday 20 February
The next day, as Nancy trudged through the snow into the village, everywhere she went people seemed to be whispering. Hushed voices hidden behind hands, heads turned away so she couldn’t see, but sheknew. She knew they were talking about her. Other people made their feelings known in subtle ways. The woman in the deli was cold when she served Nancy, uttering only the most basic of sentences. Hazel, the older lady who adored the entire village population of dogs, made a point of crossing the road when she saw her coming.
Tomorrow’s fish and chips, Nancy reminded herself, but it still hurt. She hurried home with Lara and stayed inside the house. The sky was grey and foreboding, the snow still falling steadily. There was a dismal quality to the day, as if the sun had barely risen. It was claustrophobic.
