Well, most people. A couple of the cottages down her street had been bought up by second-home purchasers and turned into holiday cottages. She couldn’t blame them, as who didn’t want to escape to the picturesque Cotswolds for a weekend holiday?If she didn’t live here, she’d be one of the holidaymakers herself, that was for sure. And most of them were beyond lovely. Just happy to be soaking up the village vibes, but they had had a couple of instances of groups of people partying until the small hours or bringing a million cars and parking with little to no consideration for the people who actually lived here. Still, the majority of people who stayed were great and interesting to talk to at that.
Coming up to her cottage, she pulled her keys from her pocket, dropping a roll of poop bags as she did so. ‘Oops. Hold up.’
Waiting until Alfie had stopped pulling ahead, no doubt excited for his dinner, she bent down to pick her keys up before pocketing them again. As she straightened her back, she noticed a couple with a small child heading towards her. She smiled. ‘Hello.’
‘Evening.’ The man nodded towards her as the woman bent down to her daughter to whisper in her ear, pointing towards Gemma.
Gemma frowned and dragged her fingers through her hair, suddenly wondering if she had somehow managed to get a leaf caught in her messy bun. She didn’t recognise them, and working at the school, she knew every child in the village, so she assumed they must be staying in one of the holiday cottages. It took her a moment to realise the mother and daughter were heading straight towards Alfie. ‘Oh, please, don’t try to pet him. He’s not very good with people he doesn’t know.’
The woman paused, and her little girl pointed towards Alfie, obviously not understanding why she couldn’t fuss the dog she wanted to.
‘Don’t be daft. He looks like a teddy bear.’ The man chuckled as he stepped closer, his hand poised to try to reach Alfie, who had begun backing away from them.
Gemma frowned. Yes, she wasn’t certain Alfie might try to bite the girl or one of her parents, but she couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t either, and she wasn’t about to put Alfie in that position. From what she’d both heard from Hannah and witnessed whilst going on walks with Hannah and Alfie, he tended to go for people without rhyme or reason. Sometimes he was absolutely fine and clearly enjoyed the fuss, whereas other times, quite randomly it seemed, he would go to bite them. Fortunately, due to his size, Hannah had always been able to pull him back in time. Plus, with his under-bite, any damage he was able to cause wasn’t likely to be serious, but still, it wasn’t a risk Gemma was about to take. Turning, she fumbled with the gate latch, annoyed at herself for not getting it fixed when the gate had dropped last summer, making the catch tricky to unlatch. ‘He does, but he can have a temper on him, and I wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt.’
The man slowly straightened his back, slipping his hand into his pocket. ‘I’m sure if that were true, you wouldn’t be walking him out in public spaces.’
Why wasn’t this darn gate opening? If it were true? Did he seriously think she’d just be making something like this up? Why? For fun? Just as she almost had the gate unlatched, her fingers fumbled, and she cursed under her breath. The damn thing. Turning to face him, she made sure to keep Alfie behind her as she glared at him. How dare he come up to them, try to pet poor little Alfie without permission and then accuse her of being a liar? She could feel a knot of anger compressing in her stomach. ‘If it were true? Do you think I’m making this up? Go ahead, fuss over him and let him bite you if you want.’
‘Hey, all I’m saying is you shouldn’t be walking a dangerous dog out on a public footpath if you know they’re going to bite anyone they meet.’ He jutted his arm out to catch his child as she ran towards Alfie. ‘Not this one, darling. He’s a nasty dog.’
Widening her eyes, Gemma spat the next words out, ‘He is not nasty, he is a rescue. Likely rescued from someone just like you.’
‘How dare you?’ The man wagged his fingers towards her. ‘I’ll have you know I’ve had dogs all my life and...’
A voice behind her cleared his throat before speaking. ‘Excuse me.’
Snapping her head around, Gemma winced as she spotted Jonathan striding down his garden path towards them. Fantastic, this was just what she needed. Him to come wading in and having a go at her too. She opened her mouth to tell him so just as he began speaking again.
‘Then you must understand dogs, all dogs, have the right to be taken on walks, and people such as yourself should be aware they cannot expect to be able to fuss over every single dog they meet.’ Opening his gate, Jonathan wedged himself between the man, her and Alfie and crossed his arms.
Blinking, Gemma watched as the mother ushered her daughter across the road and stopped, waiting for her husband. Turning her attention back to Jonathan and the obnoxious man who appeared to feel entitled to everything on this earth, she frowned. Was Jonathan sticking up for her? Without waiting to find out, Gemma tried the latch again. The gate swinging open in front of her, and she hurried into the garden, little Alfie at her heel, and closed it again.
‘Well, I...’ The man, clearly taken aback that Jonathan had dared to speak to him with reason, looked over towards his wife and young daughter. ‘I still maintain a dangerous dog should not be allowed to roam the streets.’
‘He is not roaming. You can clearly see the dog is on a lead and kept under control at all times.’ Jonathan waved his hand in her direction.
Gemma took another step towards the cottage as Alfie strained on the lead again and began to yap, lifting his front paws in the air as though he thought he’d be able to overpower her. Yep, he was under control. Totally.
With a dismissive wave of his hand in the general direction of Alfie, the man shrugged his shoulders and sauntered across the road.
Frozen to the spot, Gemma watched as Jonathan turned on his heels and headed back to his front door, closing it firmly behind him. What had just happened? She turned and opened her door before slipping inside. He had stuck up for her. After all his moaning and complaining and even the comments at school he’d made about her, he’d seen they were in trouble, and he’d come rushing out of his cottage to help.
Taking a final look out across the street, she was relieved to see the family had moved along and were now out of sight. She closed the door and pulled the chain across before kneeling on the doormat next to Alfie. ‘Come here, buddy, and let me take your lead off.’
The small Lhasa Apso did as he was asked before running into the kitchen.
‘Yep. Dinner.’ After hanging the lead on the coat hook, Gemma followed him through to the small kitchen and, just as she’d suspected, he was sitting patiently next to his food bowl. ‘Do you know what happened out there? I mean, the audacity of some people, hey?’
Alfie nudged his bowl with his nose.
‘I get the message.’ Bending down, she picked up the bowl and placed it on the counter before dishing up his food. ‘But can you? And did I just imagine it, or did our ghastly neighbour come to our rescue? Not that I didn’t have everything under control myself, of course.’
Alfie tilted his head questioningly.
‘I did. I was just about to tell him where to take his high horse.’ Gemma sighed as she placed his bowl on the floor, drawing her hand away before he began slurping down his food. ‘Or am I imagining things? Did he just happen to be strolling down his garden path for a different reason? Perhaps he was pissed off because the stupid man was standing in front of his gate? Yes, that might be it. There’s got to be some explanation anyway, because we both know how much my new boss and neighbour hates me, don’t we?’
After throwing the empty dog food can in the recycling bin, Gemma lowered herself into a chair at the small table-for-two squashed in the corner of the room and pinched the bridge of her nose. Huh, she just had to face it that whether he’d intentionally come out of his cottage to help her or not, he’d still probably have something to say to her tomorrow at the fete. That situation out there, would somehow be her fault. And it would no doubt be her fault that he’d felt compelled to get involved too. Everything seemed to be her fault.
