Megan flinched every time Dave moved, which was a lot. ‘I’m sorry, but can you keep that dog away from me?’
‘I’ll take him outside,’ said Emily, turning to leave.
‘No!’ said Zach, almost shouting, making Emily spin back around. Everyone stared. Emily joined in with a glare of her own. She didn’t like being yelled at or told what to do.
‘Sorry. I mean, I’ll take him. It’s bitterly cold out there.’ Zach took the writhing dog from her arms.
‘Thank you,’ said Megan, straightening out her blouse as if she’d been under attack.
Zach backed away, opened the pub door a fraction and slipped out. Emily shook her head. He was acting strangely but then he’d been like that, on and off, since Christmas Eve.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Emily asked Megan as they reached the bar. Petra greeted them warmly.
‘I’ll have a Manhattan, please,’ said Megan, looking around for somewhere to sit.
Petra pulled a face. ‘We don’t do cocktails I’m afraid. But we’re stocking some new gins.’ She proudly waved an arm across her display. Emily was interested for a nanosecond before the unanswered question prodded her conscience. It was a shame, because she liked gin – a lot. She thought about the test in her bag and wondered if she could slip unnoticed to the toilets.
Megan was frowning. ‘Just a bourbon then. What do you have?’ She was scanning the optics.
‘Jim Beam,’ said Petra, with a smile. Megan scowled.
‘Fine,’ said Megan, pulling out a chair and examining the seat thoroughly before sitting down.
‘And a lime and soda for me please,’ said Emily. She heard Dave’s muted bark from outside. She’d need to go and relieve Zach from dog duty shortly.
She was distracted by the sounds of claws on wood. Emily and Megan turned at the same time to see a giant dog bound from behind the bar. It looked to Emily like the one she’d met playing on the green on Christmas Day. The dog was even bigger up close. Emily was sure she’d seen smaller donkeys.
Megan screamed and the dog made straight for her. ‘Tiny!’ yelled Petra, and the dog stopped abruptly. ‘Sit.’ And Tiny did as instructed. The problem was he was sitting right next to Megan. His head was at the same height as her shoulder, his tongue lolling out from his foam-edged jowls.
Megan froze. ‘Get. It. Away. From. Me,’ said Megan, in a fearful whisper that held more than a hint of menace.
Jessie pushed her way through the crowd and took the giant dog by the collar. ‘Come on, Tiny. She doesn’t like dogs. You can sit with me,’ she said, and she led the giant canine away.
‘Dogs and children in bars. Surely that’s illegal,’ said Megan, giving her clothes another smooth over.
‘Nope,’ said Emily. ‘Welcome to England.’ And she handed over her drink.
Lottie reached for the pub door just as Zach appeared from inside with Dave in his arms. ‘Is it done?’ he asked, nudging her back out into the snow.
‘Yes, look,’ said Lottie, pointing to the green, but as she turned to look over her shoulder she could see they might have a problem. She and Zach stared at the green. Due to a slight undulation in the ground the message she and Joe had laid out wasn’t completely visible from the pub. What they had was the bottom third of each letter, making it look like a coded message. ‘Bugger,’ whispered Lottie under her breath as Joe joined them.
‘What’s up?’ He turned around and answered his own question. ‘Ah. Sod it.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Lottie, thinking on her feet. ‘You can walk her over there to show her the Christmas tree up close.’ No way was she going to rearrange eleventy hundred sprigs of pricking holly.
‘Why would I show her the Christmas tree?’ asked Zach. ‘It’s three hundred and sixty-three days until Christmas.’
‘Because it’s lovely, especially now it has a coating of snow on it.’
Zach was shaking his head. Joe let out a slow breath. ‘I’ll sort it. You two go inside and I’ll move it all a few feet nearer, okay?’
‘Great,’ said Lottie. She was cold and hungry and in dire need of a large glass of wine. Joe trudged back to the green. ‘You coming in?’ Lottie asked Zach.
‘I can’t. Megan’s in there and Dave wants to cosy up to her even more than he wants to chase the Duchess.’
His comment made Lottie ponder briefly about the two animals, but that thought disappeared when she opened the pub door and out marched Megan like a woman on a mission.
‘Where’s Joe?’ she demanded. But Megan’s gaze landed on him and she strode off across the green. Lottie shrugged and knocked the worst of the snow off her wellies. She was about to step inside when a shriek stopped her.
