He backs off and I swear he looks hurt, while I’m grateful my reprimand worked. ‘Sit in your basket or go back to Eva.’ He stands his ground and barks three times. I sigh. ‘Look, let’s get some rules sorted. You are a dog. As a human, and also your landlord, I am the boss of you and trump you in all things.’ He responds by trumping me in one thing and it fills my nostrils as he twirls to disperse it. ‘Now you’re playing dirty.’
Grabbing a knitting needle from the craft basket on the hall table, I hold it out like a sword. Thinking it’s a new game, he tries to tug it from me. ‘Are you going to knit yourself some breakfast then, Doodle Beardoodle? I’d like to see that.’
After a momentary stand-off I let him have the needle and he yelps victory.
How could anyone be cross with such a joyous bundle of fur? Crouching down, I lightly kiss his button nose and he swipes his beard across my chin. A small twig falls out, and I notice a paperclip in there as well as a helping of glitter. I stand and give my head a wobble. I’m not a dog person so why am I cuddling this grubby mutt?
In the bedroom, Eva snorts herself awake. How long before they leave? Doodle licks my bare foot and I push him away. ‘I can smell your breath from here and it’s enough to make a girl gag.’
I soak for ages in tons of foam, becoming aware Eva is up by the stern warnings about Doodle’s fate if he doesn’t stop jumping up and mauling his new foster parents. I’ve noticed from our conversations that the more annoyed she becomes, the fewer words she uses. By the time I emerge from the humidity of the bathroom, it’s just ‘No.’ Asking me to butter a heap of toast, she places the most enormous breakfast known to womankind in front of me, a selection of meat and eggs with a cucumber and tomato side salad. She promises me next weekend she will find some Albanian cheese to add to the mix.
We eat like neither of us have had a meal before, chugging back two cups of tea each. Despite her sofa bed sleep, her dark hair has stayed firmly in place while her skin is pale to the point of translucent. I suppose she has always been the phantom to my unicorn. Her short stance and overbearing chest often leave her with back pain, and she rubs her spine with one hand as she wipes up egg with the remaining toast, reprimanding me for the quality of her free bed. ‘Sofas need springs.’
‘You’ll be fine once you put your armoured bra back on.’
Her tea looks like festival mud. ‘I Love Londonmug very special for me,’ she says as she clears the plates. I tell her there are loads more choices on the market and offer to introduce her to stallholders if she’s planning to be here a few days.
She doesn’t notice the question in my statement as she clears the plates, picks up a cloth and wipes the table. ‘New HQ for business plan. We work together every night on how to get rich. But dishes first, please. Chefs do not wash plates,’ she says, as though it’s her house. But I’m not arguing. Eva has become something of a serial online entrepreneur and I’m in need of help. There isn’t a website on the net she hasn’t thought of copying, buying or stealing– she once considered setting up a Tripadvisor specifically for rude people before she found the slot was already taken.
After I’ve cleared the table, she goes for me like a terrier. ‘Tell me strategy for new client.’
I answer with confidence. ‘I’ve done quite a bit of work on the nitty-gritty. I’ll start with an audit of what makes them happy. Then we’ll establish some habits and triggers for reaching a balanced state. I’ll set them some small goals to tick off while we work on the bigger things. Little tricks like giving money or time away, monitoring how it feels and clocking the rewards. I have a whole spreadsheet of exercises, many of them properly planned out.’
At the end of my grilling, she nods and shuts the computer. ‘No one can make Daisy unhappy without her consent,’ she says, ‘but happiness can come from unwanted and unexpected place.’
‘Your dog tried to give me the same message this morning. I don’t need to ask if that’s a Freud or fortune cookie quote, do I?’
She grins. ‘Want to make home-made face pack out of purple porridge, watch movie and eat takeout later? Practise happiness for ourselves?’
Chapter 6
Early on Monday morning I hand in my notice. I figure with the holiday I’m owed and the way our shift patterns work, I’ll be released from my contract within a couple of weeks. I want to tell Joe I’ve ditched the hotel business but there’s a long queue at the coffee cart. I walk around the block, feeling guilty I snuck out without Doodle.
When I finally get Joe alone I find him sitting on the stool, his face showing the strain of a busy shift. ‘At ease,’ I say.
‘What a morning! Everyone’s been in a foul mood and Stunning Flat White lost it with Entitled Tea,’ he replies.
‘No way. Over what?’
‘The pros and cons of saccharine instead of sugar. Totally pointless argument as she doesn’t take either while he’s popped one brown sugar in his coffee since the beginning of time and is never going to try sweeteners. Sometimes I feel like I’m running a playgroup.’
‘You want to try living with my new lodger. He could give any toddler a run for their money.’
He looks confused. ‘You’ve a new lodger? A guy?’
‘He’s called Doodle.’
‘What is he, a street artist?’
I laugh. ‘A dog. He came with Eva who is sleeping on my sofa. Stunning and Entitled would both benefit from a tweet I just put out on changing your perspective on the beginning of the week. Have you noticed people tend to throw Sundays away because they’ve already started a mental countdown? They need to embrace Monday in all its Mondayness, looking forward to seeing their colleagues and returning with a refreshed mindset.’
‘Monday morning on a food stall is always the pits and I’m not sure a more positive mindset would do the job. Everyone wants their coffee with minimal queuing, and someone always asks for a latte or cappuccino with impossible milk. Look, I’ve got sprinkles all down my work suit from the rushing about.’ He tugs at the zip of his green fleece, revealing a pale grey crew-neck jumper with a chocolate powder topping. ‘So, tell me, Coach Daisy, do you like Mondays?’
‘No, they totally suck. Or they used to when I was employed.’
A wide grin spreads across his face. ‘You bagged yourself some private clients?’
‘No, but I resigned anyway.’
