They searched and searched and eventually Blythe spotted a flash of white fur deep in the thicket. ‘She’s here!’ she called although Vicky and Barnaby were nowhere in sight. Blythe pushed her way through the overgrown bushes and brambles, scratching her arms and at one point getting a bramble caught in her long hair, which she had to tug free. Eventually she found herself a few feet away from the dog.
‘Come here, Princess,’ she said, in the cheeriest voice she could muster.
Princess barked at her and danced up and down the small patch of earth on the other side of a tangle of brambles.
‘Come on,’ encouraged Blythe clapping her hands together. Princess stared at Blythe and then at the brambles. ‘Really? You’re scared of spiking your paws. Is that it?’ Princess’s tongue lolled out of her mouth as she panted. ‘Seriously. For a very big dog you are a complete wimp.’ Blythe checked her watch. She was running out of time fast. But then she could get away with not having a shower as nobody else would be in the office and it was only a phone call with Mr Ashton. Still she needed to get a move on – Sam Ashton was her last hope of at least landing a draw with Amir.
Princess barked and broke Blythe’s train of thought. ‘I’ll come to you then,’ she said, wondering why she was talking to a dog who clearly wasn’t very bright if she’d managed to get herself surrounded by thorny bushes. Blythe stamped onto the brambles nearest to her, and they sprang back in protest and adhered themselves to her jeans. ‘Bloody hell,’ she grumbled trying to yank her clothes free. The more she stamped them down the more they attached themselves to her – they were nature’s Velcro. Princess got bored and lay down with a hearty huff. ‘If you think I’m carrying you out of here you can think again,’ she told the mutt. Blythe stamped down on uneven ground, toppled, and reached out to stop herself falling. Unfortunately what she grabbed was another thorny section. ‘Arghhhhhh!’ She let go sharpish and as she fell she tried to avoid the brambles but instead landed in a pile of nettles.
A huffing and puffing behind her announced Vicky’s arrival. ‘There you are! What are you lying down for?’
‘Princess won’t walk on the brambles.’ Blythe shook her head but before she could explain further Princess stood up and, using Blythe as a bridge, she trotted out of the bramble thicket to join Vicky and Barnaby. ‘Good idea,’ said Vicky, grabbing Princess’s lead and looking impressed.
‘I didn’t intend her to… oh, never mind,’ said Blythe.
*
They eventually returned the giant hounds to their owner who seemed pleased with the long walk they’d had but didn’t even so much as tip Vicky, although she was buoyed up that she had at least one potential client for her new business. Blythe had left Vicky to it and dashed home, got straight in her car and set off. Thankfully town was quiet. Blythe hurriedly parked her car, grabbed her bag and headed for the office, marvelling at the stinging sensation in her arms and neck thanks to the nettles and thorns. She could have done the phone call from home but then she’d likely have her mum and stepdad hovering in the background, which wouldn’t sound very professional, and anyway all the information was on her desk computer because Ludo worried about data protection and wouldn’t let them have laptops that could be stolen. And there was still the remote chance Mr Ashton may ask some detailed questions or want more information emailing. If she was going to give this last straw her full attention then it was best that she was at her desk with everything she needed to hand. Blythe vowed that if Mr Ashton didn’t buy anything today then she was going to move him to the WOTs file.
Blythe pulled out her office keys and was about to open up as her phone rang. It was Vicky. ‘Hi, Vicky, is it urgent because I have to call Ashton dead on ten?’
‘Sure. I wanted you to know I have my first clients! I’m going to be walking Barnaby and Princess daily!’
‘Congratulations, I think,’ said Blythe, screwing up her features at the thought of the giant beasts and feeling something sting in her cheek. ‘We’ll celebrate later. I’ve got to go because I want to get ready for this client.’
‘I thought you said he was a waste of time?’
‘I did and I know it’s pointless because he’s a time-wasting numpty who is likely never going to buy anything but I have to try.’
‘Well, I hope he buys the biggest house you have,’ said Vicky. Blythe was aware of someone standing on the pavement very close to her. She glanced over her shoulder and a casually dressed man in his late twenties smiled back at her. In actual fact he looked quite amused at something. Blythe ignored him. She turned the key and shot inside the office.
‘Thanks, Vicky. I’ve gotta go. I’ll catch you later.’
‘Pub?’
‘If you like. Bye.’
Blythe ended the call, hit the on button on her computer and went through to the back to grab a quick coffee. While she was waiting for the kettle to boil she heard someone try the door. ‘Sorry we’re closed!’ she called, adding under her breath, ‘which is why the closed sign is up.’ Some people were dumb. She hastily made a coffee and dashed back to her desk to pull up the property details so she could see which of Mr Ashton’s criteria she was going to focus on with each of them. She checked the time. Dead on ten o’clock she picked up her phone to dial his number and it sprang into life. It was Mr Ashton, which was quite annoying because even after everything she wasn’t late calling him.
She composed herself for her last-ditch attempt at getting a May sale and put on her most professional voice. ‘Good morning, Mr Ashton, bang on time. I had my phone in my hand. Which of the properties I sent would you like to know more about first?’
‘I was hoping I could have a sit-down.’
What did that mean? Blythe closed her eyes so she could concentrate. ‘The Regency semi in Leamington has a beautiful window seat…’ She paused while she brought the details up on her screen.
‘O-kay. But I’d be happy with that chair there.’
Blythe peered at the photos on her screen. ‘I’m sorry, which chair?’
There was a tap on the glass door. ‘That one.’
Blythe was preparing a scowl for whoever was at the door until she saw it was the man from earlier. He now had a mobile held to his ear and he was pointing at her. ‘Crap,’ she said, and then realised her mistake. ‘I’m so sorry. Are you?’ She pointed to the man outside and he nodded. Blythe stood up so fast she knocked her chair over and bumped her desk, spilling her coffee and hurting her thigh. ‘Well, this is a lovely surprise…’ She wondered why she now sounded like her grandmother. She shoved the phone into her neck while she wrestled with the door. She snatched it open and the man outside beamed an amused smile at her.
‘Mr Ashton?’ she said.
‘Hi Blythe, call me Sam,’ he said, ending the call and offering her a hand to shake.
Blythe shook hands and then realised she must have looked like an idiot as she still had her phone tucked into her neck. She quickly shoved it in her pocket. ‘Come in. Sit down. Can I get you a coffee?’ she said, the whole time wondering why the hell he was there in person.
