2
30thMay
Blythe wasn’t sure how she ended up being out of bed so early on a Sunday morning. When she’d lived in town she only saw her friend Vicky once or twice a week but now she’d had to move back in with her mum and her stepdad, Greg, Vicky lived just around the corner. It was one of a number of benefits that had softened the impact of her break-up. A sigh escaped as she thought about her ex now playing happy families with someone ten years older than her. That had been a blow to her ego. She was missing him less, which was a good thing. She’d sold the house they’d shared in double quick time – partly because it matched the buyer but mainly because she needed to get away from all the ‘what might have been’ memories. But that was in the past and Blythe had to concentrate on getting back on her feet. Usually Sundays were for long lazy lie-ins, snuggling on the sofa with a good book and the occasional hangover, although today she was careering around their sleepy village being dragged along by a huge bear of a dog.
‘Vicky, explain to me again why we’re doing this,’ said Blythe, holding on tight to the ridiculously large fluffy grey and white dog who was named Princess but appeared to have no comprehension of that fact.
‘So I can get a good reference from the owner,’ said Vicky, grimacing like she was losing in a tug o’ war competition as Princess’s brother battled to wrench her arm from its socket.
‘Yeah, that’s the bit I don’t get.’ Vicky was a single mum to her daughter, Eden. She worked part-time in the local candle factory. How walking the owner’s dogs would get her a good reference for a job, Blythe had no idea.
‘It’s my new business venture – dog walking,’ said Vicky proudly, although she looked like she was skiing behind the old English sheepdog rather than walking it.
‘Then we’re getting paid for this?’ Blythe felt a fraction better about her early start.
‘Not exactly,’ said Vicky. ‘But if we do a good job they might be my first client.’ She briefly grinned at Blythe before the dog jerked forward and she went flying, landing in a heap on the path. Thankfully she was still hanging on to the lead. ‘Barnaby!’ she yelled, making the dog bound back and jump all over her. ‘Oof!’ Vicky rolled onto her front but the dog found it was even more fun to tug on her ponytail. ‘Barnaby, sit. Siiiit!’ Barnaby ignored her.
Despite the large dogs it was always nice to have a walk through the scenic landscape that surrounded the village of Holly Cross. Nestled in the Warwickshire countryside it was where Blythe and Vicky had grown up. The village and its inhabitants held a special place in Blythe’s heart. And whilst it hadn’t been on her life plan to move back in with her mum and stepdad she was enjoying the feeling of being cosseted that they and the village gave her. Although she could do without them kissing at breakfast – it was enough to put anyone off their muesli. And worse than that it made her feel like a child again. All those mortifying moments when she’d walked in on her mum and Greg kissing and all the times Greg had insisted on picking her up from parties.
Blythe held on tight to her charge who was keen to join in the slobber fest. ‘Would you be walking these two on a regular basis then?’
‘Daily.’ Vicky tried crawling away. ‘Sit, Barnaby. Bloody well sit!’
‘On your own?’ asked Blythe, trying hard not to let it show on her face how much of a bad idea she thought this was.
Vicky wriggled away from the giant dog’s slobbering jaws and got to her feet. ‘Once they get used to me they’ll be a lot calmer, I’m sure.’
‘I’m not,’ said Blythe under her breath as they carried on their walk. ‘They’ll eat you alive given half a chance.’
‘I was sorry to hear about Murray dying,’ said Vicky, pulling a sad face.
Blythe was interested how Vicky had made the connection because Murray was an elderly gent from their village who had recently passed away from old age and had not been eaten by out-of-control furry demons. ‘Me too,’ agreed Blythe. ‘I know he was in his eighties but it was still a shock. Does that sound daft?’
‘No.’ Vicky shook her head and Barnaby tried to jump up and bite her ponytail. ‘You two were mates.’
The phrase made Blythe raise an eyebrow. But on some level Vicky was right. Blythe had been popping round to Murray’s on a regular basis. Partly because when Murray was away she fed the semi-feral cat who frequented his garden and partly because she enjoyed having a cuppa and a natter with the old man. Because he wasn’t just an old man; he was someone with a wealth of life experience, a listening ear and somebody who offered sound advice. Blythe was really going to miss him. ‘I guess weweremates. He always seemed happy. Never let anything get him down.’
‘His funeral was held last week up in Manchester somewhere; that’s what people were saying in the pub. I don’t think anyone from Holly Cross went.’
‘That is sad. I wonder why—’ But Blythe didn’t get to finish her sentence before the two dogs started to play-fight, tangling their leads and wrapping up the two young women like they were about to be kidnapped.
Once they had managed to untangle themselves, which actually took quite a while because both dogs thought it was a fun game and kept circling them and making things worse, they were able to continue on their country hike. ‘How do you feel this is going then?’ asked Blythe, now holding on to Princess’s lead with both hands.
Vicky wrinkled her nose. ‘Not quite as easy as I’d hoped.’
‘Maybe you could walk them separately,’ suggested Blythe.
‘Not cost-effective. I need to do six walks a day to earn enough money from this, but if I walk multiple dogs at a time it could be a gold mine.’ Vicky looked genuinely excited at the prospect.
‘Would it not be easier to get some extra hours at the factory?’ asked Blythe.
‘They have been really good but next step is back to full-time working, which I can’t do. I could fit the dog walking around my shifts and do it before and after school with Eden.’
‘With Eden?’ Images of the five-year-old flying behind Princess loomed large in Blythe’s mind.
‘Yeah. Fab mum and daughter time plus I would be my own boss and as most people are out at work all day they don’t really care what time their dog is walked as long as they are taken out and get some exercise. And, who knows, if this really takes off I could then be employing other dog walkers and making shedloads without even having to leave the house.’
‘Is there that much money in it?’ Blythe was intrigued.
