Nancy knew how physically close they’d been to each other as they tried to get to one another. The place where Beth had had her accident was only half a mile from the point where Nancy had had to turn back. She knew the bend in the road, knew the tree. They’d been minutes from each other.
Nancy gazed out of the window feeling trapped. She was desperate to go and visit Beth, but the snow was still too deep to get out of the village – and who would look after Lara? It was the half-term holidays and so there was no school. She’d told Lara about the accident but had played it down. Then prayed to a greater being that Beth would recover soon. She didn’t dare think about an alternative. It would break her, break Lara. She called in to check on Beth daily, only to be told there was no change, and the fear and isolation grew.
After a few days playing in the snow in the garden and watching movies at home, Nancy needed to go out to get some groceries. She wasn’t looking forward to it but if she wanted to eat, she had no choice. They both put on their warmest coats and boots and set off down the lane, crumping through the snow. It reached two or three feet in the drifts and Lara ran up and down, getting more than her fair share of snow in her wellies.
As they walked along the high street one of the shop doors opened just ahead of them. Nancy looked up, too late to avoid the person who came out. Her stomach tightened; she couldn’t deal with Imogen, not at the moment.
Imogen didn’t notice Nancy at first. She had her dog ona lead by her side and was too engrossed in expressing her gratitude to the vet, who was standing next to her.
So the dog had made a recovery, thought Nancy, relieved. For the dog, especially. Whatever was going on in this village, it had managed to escape the fate of some of its fellow pups.
She was just wondering how she could get past without being noticed when a voice cried out behind her.
‘Oh, thank goodness!’
Nancy turned to see Hazel trudging up the pavement, making a beeline for Imogen and Arthur. At the same time, Imogen’s face darkened as soon as she clocked Nancy.
‘You poor thing, are you OK?’ said Hazel, bending down to stroke the retriever.
‘He’s fine, thanks to this amazing lady’s intervention,’ said Imogen, smiling at the vet. ‘Thanks again, Stephanie.’
‘What was it?’ asked Hazel, all concern.
‘Some sort of poison. Same as the other dogs.’
Nancy could hear everything – as she suspected they knew.
‘What crazy monster would do such a thing?’ asked Hazel.
Nancy bristled. She was torn between wanting to get as far away as possible and being rooted to the ground, waiting to hear if they damned her in public.
‘Can I give him a treat?’ continued Hazel, digging into her pocket for her tin.
‘Sure,’ said Imogen.
‘He deserves it, after his ordeal,’ said Hazel, and Nancy wasn’t sure if she was imagining it but thought Hazel’svoice had raised in volume – for her benefit, perhaps. She was considering going over to them, challenging them both when she heard Stephanie speak.
‘What’s that?’
‘Treats,’ said Hazel, opening the tin. ‘Organic chicken flavour.’
‘No,’ said Stephanie. ‘I mean the white stuff.’
Nancy saw Stephanie had taken the tin from Hazel and was examining a treat she’d plucked out.
Hazel looked bemused for a moment, then realized. ‘I spilled my sweetener,’ she said. ‘You know, cutting down on the sugar. Doctor’s orders.’
‘Sweetener?’
‘You can’t tell the difference, you know. And I can drink as many teas as I like.’
‘What’s it called?’
‘Xylitol. I only remember because it sounds like xylophone.’
‘Stop,’ instructed Stephanie urgently as Hazel went to post a treat into the dog’s ready mouth.
Hazel stood up straight. ‘Pardon?’
