SEVENTY-SIX
Wednesday 17 February
Imogen shivered as she turned off the path from the high street down towards the reservoir. You could feel the cold wind blowing off the flat expanse of water even from this distance. She’d walk Arthur then get back to the warmth of her kitchen. Working next to a pizza oven was a real bonus on a day like today.
As she passed the cafe, she was half-tempted to go in for a coffee, especially when she saw Hazel come out with a steaming cup. Imogen sniffed the air quizzically.
Hazel flushed with guilt. ‘You caught me,’ she said dolefully, lifting the cardboard cup. ‘It’s so cold I got myself a hot chocolate.’
‘You’re going to need the extra sugar being outside in this weather,’ said Imogen.
‘You think so?’
‘Without a doubt.’
‘Oh, you’re a love,’ said Hazel. She dived into her pocket and retrieved her tin. ‘Because you have such a kind mummy, I think you deserve two of these today,’ she said to theexcited retriever. ‘Sit!’ she commanded and as the dog obeyed, she gave him the treats.
Imogen was getting cold standing still. ‘Well, we’d better get going,’ she said, forgoing the idea of coffee. If she was honest, she didn’t have time anyway. Better to get Arthur walked and get back to the restaurant.
‘Nice to see you,’ said Hazel, patting Arthur’s head. ‘Oh, and you too, Imogen,’ she added quickly.
Imogen smiled and walked on. Reaching the reservoir path, she decided to turn right, towards her old house. She wasn’t going to go as far as Willow Barn, but the view of the water from this side of the reservoir was particularly beautiful.
Arthur ran on ahead and Imogen followed, pulling her scarf up around her nose and tucking her hands in her pockets. The wind was icy today, cutting into any exposed skin.
Up ahead she thought she saw Arthur stagger but then he seemed fine so she reasoned she must have imagined it. She looked at the ice at the water’s edge – it was rare the reservoir itself froze. She went down to the shoreline, saw the ice crystallizing around the rocks and was reminded of a time when Dylan had taught Rosie how to skim stones across the water. After a few minutes she realized she hadn’t seen Arthur in a while, so she called out his name. He didn’t come running. She shouted again, louder this time as she thought her voice was getting lost in the wind, but still he didn’t appear.
She groaned. She could do without an errant dog on aday like today. It was too damn cold to go traipsing through all this snow in these freezing temperatures and she had to get to work. She called a third time but again, his lithe body, tail wagging, didn’t come running up to her. Something exciting must have distracted him. A pheasant or another dog.
She had no other choice than to go on.
Five minutes later she was starting to worry. Arthur was pretty good at recall, so where the hell was he? She stopped and gazed around, sharpening her eyes for any sign of movement in the frost-blackened ferns. But it was silent and empty.
It was then that her phone rang.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
Wednesday 17 February
‘Imogen, it’s Nancy Miller here. Your dog is in my garden. He’s ill. I’ve called the vet and he needs to get to the surgery as soon as possible. He can’t walk but he’s too heavy for me to lift to my car. Are you nearby?’
Five minutes later, Imogen was racing up the steps to her old garden. She ran towards her pet and dropped to her knees, her face stricken. Then she looked at Nancy.
‘What have you done?’
‘I haven’t done anything...’ stammered Nancy. ‘I found him here – on the ground in the snow...’
Imogen’s eyes darted around. She saw the swimming pond, a hole smashed in the ice. Had Arthur drunk from it?
‘Help me,’ she demanded, and Nancy bent down. Together they lifted the dog.
‘The car’s up here,’ said Nancy, indicating with her head.
‘I know where the drive is,’ snapped Imogen.
Nancy remained silent after that. Together they laid Arthur onto the back seat, then Nancy drove to the vet’s as quickly as she could.
A nurse in scrubs came out braced against the cold as they pulled up in the car park.
