Wrestling the lead from the dog’s mouth, she hooked it onto her collar and did her best to hang on as Tess threw herself forward, frantically pulling to catch up. In a half run, Ella followed the crazy racehorse-under-starters-orders plunging gait which was par for the course every single day. You’d think the damn dog had never been out of the house in her life.
‘For goodness’ sake, you need to show her who’s boss,’ said Devon, giving Tess a stern glare.
Ella rolled her eyes, thinking of the constant ache in her shoulders from having to hang on for dear life. ‘You think I haven’t tried?’
‘Here, let me.’ He grabbed the lead from her. ‘She needs to learn some manners.’
‘Be my guest.’ Just when she’d started to think better of him, Captain Grumpy was back with a vengeance.
He held out Dexter’s lead for her to take over. Immediately she could feel the difference as the handsome pointer walked beautifully alongside her, matching her pace.
Tess started to pull ahead and Devon stopped, pulling gently on the lead but not yanking the young dog back.
‘I don’t think she’s ever been trained properly. That’s the problem. But you can teach her a few good habits.’
The stop, start, stop, start took for ever but Devon’s earlier grumpiness seemed to vanish, replaced by an infinite well of patience as he talked soothingly to Tess.
It was slow progress and a massive relief when they turned off the road to take the footpath down to the canal. The two dogs charged off the minute they were released from their leads, joyfully leaping through the almost waist-high grass of the open field. Devon and Ella wandered along in silence for a good fifteen minutes. His mood seemed to have improved.
‘Sorry.’ Devon lifted his head and looked up at the sky. ‘I was in a really shitty mood this morning. Getting out always puts things back in perspective. Realigns things.’ He picked up a loose branch and scythed at the grass with it. ‘Gets rid of the City blues.’ He thrashed at the foliage again, this time a little more viciously. ‘I was in London again yesterday.’
‘Don’t you miss it?’ asked Ella, curious rather than challenging as she might have been a week or so ago. ‘Living in London? Bets said you lived there until recently.’
‘Not really. You can be there in under an hour. In fact, when I get back here, I realise how little I miss it. The only thing I miss is knowing what the future holds. I’m in limbo at present.’
‘I know that feeling.’ She dug her hands into her pockets.
‘You missing London?’ Devon didn’t look at her, just continued to walk by her side.
‘Yes! Of course I am.’ Was he stupid?
‘What do you miss?’ he asked, his voice tinged with scepticism.
She paused for a moment. ‘Well . . . I miss . . . I miss being able to nip out for a decent cup of coffee and . . . ’ She frowned. There were heaps of things she missed, nothing precise she could put her finger her on. ‘The buzz. You know, lots going on.’ It sounded feeble but she couldn’t identify one particular thing.
Devon let out an incredulous laugh. ‘Don’t let Bets hear you say that. There’s plenty going on here. She’ll have you roped into things quicker than you can find a coffee bar on Islington High Street. There’s always some event happening: the Village Hall fund raisers, the Spring Fayre, the Christmas Fayre and local charity events, the Muddy Run, the Santa Run and the Chiltern Peaks Challenge, and then there’s the Canal Festival, not to mention the action-packed programme of the WI and the primary school events plus all the things at the theatre, the pantomime, comedy festival and there’s talk of a literary festival. It’s never-ending.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘And I get roped into most things. I don’t see why you should escape.’
‘I’ve done the church flowers!’ she said, indignantly. ‘That’s my bit for village life.’ All those other things sounded hideously dull.
‘Not quite. Don’t forget the chance to play shopkeeper.’
‘I’ve been trying to. Hopefully they’ll forget about me.’
‘I doubt it, everyone has to take a turn. It’s written in the village bylaws.’
‘Really?’ She raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
‘Well, I’m sure if it isn’t, it should be. And if I have to, you do too. And sometimes you get free stuff.’
‘Like what?’
‘Out-of-date Swiss roll!’ He grinned at her.
‘Marvellous, I can’t wait. Although I could give it to George. He refuses to believe I can’t bake a cake for him now and then. He’s a right pest.’
‘George? He’s all right. Just lonely, I suspect. Magda used to keep an eye on him, although she lets him think it’s the other way around.’
Ella cringed. Not nosy at all. She felt a touch ashamed now. Perhaps next time she saw him, she might offer him a homemade cappuccino from Magda’s machine. Although she drew the line at baking anything, despite Magda’s magic box. That was never going to happen. He’d have to go homebaked-cake-less.
