Petra from the pub appeared with trays of mulled wine at a reasonable price, and just like that Joe felt festive again. He found a good spot not too close to the start, but near enough to see the ducks released. There were quite a few dogs about, and they all seemed to be off leads but behaving themselves impeccably. He looked at Dave, and Dave looked hopefully at him.
‘Sorry, boy. I can’t risk you running off.’ Dave lay down grumpily as if he’d understood. Joe hung the skipping rope over his arm as he juggled his sausage roll and mulled wine. Some local children, all wrapped up in too many layers, excitedly rushed to the front as the announcer started counting down. The crowd joined in and a huge cheer went up as the ducks were released: a mass of yellow plastic tumbled over the little bridge and into the water. A few of the dogs barked and Dave jumped up excitedly. As the flash of yellow ducks bobbed past, Dave dashed through the many assembled legs, wrenching the rope from Joe’s arm and disappearing into the crowd.
‘Dave!’ shouted Joe, and a couple of people turned to look but most of them were watching the scruffy little dog, who had launched himself into the water and was now chasing up the middle of the stream after the lead ducks. Joe dropped his sausage roll and hastily thrust his drink into Shirley’s hands.
‘And a happy New Year to you!’ she called after him, before downing it in one.
Joe found himself in the middle of a group of children all running along the banks of the stream trying to keep up with the ducks as Dave raced along in the shallow water trying to grab one in his mouth.
‘For goodness’ sake, Dave,’ shouted Joe and the boy next to him giggled.
‘Is he yours?’ asked the boy, waving his phone in Dave’s direction.
‘No,’ panted Joe, although it was entirely his fault that this was happening.
‘Shame. He’s awesome.’
Joe paused thanks to a stitch in his side – he blamed the sausage roll – and a few more followers caught them up: a particularly windy bit of the stream’s course had slowed the pace down. Dave was having the time of his life as more ducks caught up and surrounded him, bobbing in every direction as he pounced on them. ‘Dave!’ Of course the dog didn’t look up. It took longer than a day and a half for a dog to learn a new name. There was nothing for it: Joe was going to have to go in after him.
Joe sprinted ahead to buy himself a couple of minutes before the ducks reached him. He pulled off his socks and trainers and slid down the muddy bank into the icy water. The cold took his breath away. He saw the lead ducks coming towards him with Dave in hot pursuit.
‘Come on, Dave,’ he called, in the hope of encouraging him to leave the ducks and come to him.
‘Come on, Dave!’ shouted the boy who’d spoken to him earlier, still pointing his phone in Dave’s direction. And just like that the other children joined in. Then a fewadults, then more, until the chorus echoed up the banks. ‘Come on, Dave!’
The dog was oblivious. As he neared Joe he made a well-timed lunge for the duck in front, clasping it firmly in his jaws and giving Joe the opportunity to grab the skipping rope harness and haul Dave from the water, his little legs still running in mid-air.
The crowd cheered their delight, most likely thanks to the mulled wine, and carried on their way after the remaining ducks. Joe flopped down on the grassy bank and tried to take the duck from the dog’s jaws, but Dave whipped his head away.
‘That better not be my duck,’ said a gruff voice.
‘Or mine,’ chimed in a few more.
Back to being public enemy number one, thought Joe, clasping the cold, wet wriggling dog to his chest. Dave had a firm hold on the duck and from his determined expression he wasn’t planning on relinquishing his prize any time soon.
Someone loomed over Joe. He looked up warily. ‘Sausage roll?’ asked Lottie, failing to hide her grin.
He was pleased to see her smile, even if it was at his expense. ‘I could do with a large brandy. This dog is possessed by the devil.’
‘You love him really,’ said Lottie, crouching down to ruffle the fur on the top of Dave’s head, and coming quite close to Joe in the process.
‘I must admit he’s growing on me.’
‘Me too,’ said Lottie, and their eyes fixed on each other until discomfort made them tear them away.
Lottie had watched the performance play out and had been cheering Joe on from the bank. She’d almost run upto him at the end, but had managed to make herself saunter instead. And now here she was, standing close to him and feeling all self-conscious again. Especially after flashing him earlier.
‘Did poogate get resolved?’ he asked, standing up.
‘After much moaning, arguing and a bit of shouting from me, yes.’ They fell in step as everyone converged on the finish. They were a few strides away when a huge cheer went up. Lottie couldn’t see who had won, but they would put the numbers up on a chalk board soon enough. They continued at a more leisurely pace with Dave trotting along beside them, his duck held proudly in his mouth.
‘Did they find the engagement ring?’
‘Shhh. And how did you know?’ Lottie swivelled her head to check nobody nearby was listening.
‘Something he said last night after a few too many brandies. Plus I figured if Emily’s present was socks, Zach wouldn’t be fretting this much.’
Lottie checked Emily wasn’t nearby. ‘No sign of it. Zach is really starting to panic. He’s missed Christmas Day, so today is his last chance to ask her before they leave the manor tomorrow.’ She ran her lip through her teeth. ‘I guess I won’t be far behind them.’ She was thinking out loud. ‘The new owners will want the place emptied as soon as possible.’
