‘Shall I swing by and grab him first thing? I’ve got the key. Or,’ her eyes looked hopeful, ‘I could pick him up the night before and he could have a sleepover.’
It wasn’t as if he didn’t owe her. ‘OK, you can have your dog fix.’
‘Yay!’
‘Just don’t let him sleep on the bed. You’ll give him ideas above his station.’
Bets sighed heavily. ‘It’s only for one night . . . ’
‘Tough. Dexter stays downstairs.’
‘But I get lonely.’ She sighed again, pulling a lovelorn and pathetic expression. Unfortunately, Bets’ wholesome pretty face didn’t lend itself to the attempt. ‘I wish Jack were coming home soon. It’s ages until the end of this term and he’s so busy with exams he doesn’t want me to go down.’
Devon rolled his eyes. ‘It’s not for ever.’ Personally, he thought the two of them were far too young to settle down but then he had a pretty jaundiced view of relationships right now.
‘True.’ She bounced up, her face brightening to its usual sunny wattage. ‘And there’s always the welcome-home sex-in-every-room marathon to look forward to.’
‘Too much information,’ he groaned, ‘about my brother. And images I’d rather not have next time I set foot in your place.’
Chapter Four
Ella clawed her way back to consciousness from sleep, her heart pounding, a mournful howl echoing in her ears. What the . . . ?
She lay in the unfamiliar room, her chest about to explode. The scent of lavender tickled her nose. Magda had hung heart-shaped pouches of the dried flower heads on either side of the brass bedstead. A radiator creaked and ticked, the noise heightened by the pitch black darkness of the room and the silence outside. This cocoon-like feeling of nothingness unnerved her. Where was the rumble of traffic, the rattle of the windows when buses lumbered past, drunks shrieking at kicking-out time and the constant cry of sirens in the distance? This wasn’t natural.
Even though sleep had been elusive for weeks, bedtime had become the highlight of the day. Ella looked forward to that time in bed where all the bad things in life ceased and she could go back to life how it was before.
Awoooo. Aw Aw Awoooo.
Damn dog. Another heart-rending wail hit the air. Ella closed her eyes tighter, hoping it would stop.
It didn’t. After five minutes of the sort of howling which would have put the hound of the Baskervilles to shame, she grabbed her dressing gown and stomped down the stairs.
She’d shut the dog in the kitchen with its bed by the radiator, so at least it would have some residual warmth. She had no idea if that was what you were supposed to do. Did dogs feel the cold? When she opened the door the dog was there, tail wagging, looking bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
‘It’s the middle of the night,’ she hissed. ‘Go to sleep.’
She walked over to its bed and pointed. ‘Bed.’ She vaguely remembered seeing something on TV about alpha dogs and showing who was boss, so she said it in a fierce, I-mean-business tone which apparently worked because the dog clambered into the bed, curled up and looked up at her, with an innocent expression as if to say,Who me? Making that noise? Never.
Praise. That was another thing Ella vaguely remembered or did you do that with children? The familiar pang gripped her stomach. Children. She didn’t know much about them either but people learned, didn’t they? ‘Good girl.’ The dog lowered its head onto its paws.
See, this dog-owning lark was a piece of cake. Easy.
‘Right, goodnight.’ Ella snapped out the light and with relief climbed back up the narrow staircase to her bedroom. Had she just said goodnight to a dog? Seriously, she was losing it.
The minute, to the very second, that her toes were nicely toasty and her body snuggly under the cocoon of the heavy-weight feather duvet, the howling started again. She buried her head under the pillows hoping they would silence the dog’s cries, but to no avail. Dratted animal sounded heart-broken. Getting out of the nice warm bed was purgatory.
‘You’re having a laugh,’ she growled, but the dog just grinned. Definite latent signs of smiling on its happy little face. ‘Bed,now.’ The dog slunk back to bed, climbed in again, and lowered its head, those crazy eyebrows lifting and separating with puzzlement.
She shut the door firmly.
‘Vets On Call, Devon Ashcroft speaking.’ There surely should be some law that when a phone rang before six in the morning, coffee was automatically dispensed. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the digital clock’s numerals glowing orange in thedark. Four a.m. calls were bitches, rousing you from that deep deep sleep. At least he’d managed a straight five hours in his own bed. ‘How can I help you?’
‘Hi, thank God, Dr Ash— are you a doctor? Do you call vets doctors? Or is that just for people?’
He smiled to himself, amused in spite of the ridiculously early hour. ‘I’m fine with Mr Ashcroft.’
‘But youarea proper vet.’
