Marcus looked around the parlour. He had never thought of it that way. To him, the space was bright, practical and cheerful. To a nervous dog, perhaps it was all angles and sounds and nowhere safe.
‘We can use the corner by the towel shelves,’ Marcus said. ‘It’s quieter there.’
Rowan nodded once. ‘And no lifting her straight away. Let her move there herself.’
Mrs Hargreaves looked between them. ‘Is she going to be all right?’
Marcus smiled, but this time he didn’t make it too bright. ‘She will be. We’re going to make the appointment fit Daisy, rather than forcing Daisy to fit the appointment.’
Something shifted in Rowan’s face.
Only a fraction.
But Marcus saw it.
They worked together in a rhythm that surprised him. Marcus kept up a gentle stream of nonsense for Mrs Hargreaves’s benefit, because nervous owners often made nervous dogs worse. Rowan said very little, but when he did speak, it mattered.
‘Pause.’
Marcus paused.
‘She’s about to turn her head.’
Daisy turned her head.
Marcus almost laughed with delight. ‘You’re annoyingly good at this.’
‘Annoyingly?’
‘That was the important word, yes.’
Rowan’s mouth twitched.
They let Daisy sniff the towel first. Then the brush. Then Marcus’s fingers. He did not attempt her ears until she had stopped trembling quite so much, and even then, he only cleaned around them instead of forcing the full groom.
Mrs Hargreaves seemed surprised when Marcus said they were finished.
‘But you haven’t done everything.’
‘No,’ Marcus said. ‘But she’s leaving calmer than she arrived. That matters more today. Don’t worry, I’ll only charge for what I did.’
Rowan glanced at him.
Mrs Hargreaves looked down at Daisy, who was now sitting beside her instead of hiding behind her legs. ‘I suppose she does seem better.’
‘Bring her back next week for a short ear-only appointment,’ Marcus said, scribbling a note on a card. ‘Ten minutes. No bath. No full groom. Just a hello, a treat, and a tiny bit more confidence.’
Rowan leaned over the appointment book and added a note in tidy handwriting.
Marcus tried not to stare at his hand.
Failed.
Tried again.
Failed again.
By the time Daisy left, tail low but wagging, Marcus felt oddly triumphant. It had not been a perfect groom. It had not been a glossy before-and-after transformation. But it had been better. Kinder.
