In between customers I checked my phone for responses to the dog post. Quite a lot of ‘poor thing’ and ‘hope you find the owners’ replies. A few people had tagged friends and asked ‘Is this Poppy?’ or ‘Looks just like Chalky!’ but so far no one had claimed to know who he actually was. But it was still early days. I wondered if he was microchipped and how to go about checking that. I’d have to ask Alistair next time I saw him.
As I was putting my phone away, I got a notification from Mum. I was expecting a reminder about the tea she’d asked me to get for her, but it was a link she’d sent via WhatsApp.
Having a Baby at Thirty: Why You Shouldn’t Wait
Terrific.
Chapter 18
Iignored the article.Of course I did. The alternative was to open the chat and read it and then Mum would know I’d done so. Better to just ignore it. That was how we dealt with everything as a family. I’d learned from the best.
My vow to have a normal work day was being sorely tested very early on. Fortunately, we had a steady flow of customers for once – apparently, there was a coffee morning at the church hall and it had brought in a lot of foot traffic. People were coming in looking for supplies for their harvest display contributions. We sold quite a lot of the cheaper acrylic yarns, pompom makers, buttons in autumnal shapes and even a fairly expensive set of ergonomic crochet hooks. Things were looking up. I still hadn’t had time to get anything done regarding our brainstormed ideas, aside from asking Emma to arrange for her coven to visit. The whole ‘Richard and his squeaky-bummed floozy’ thing had really ruined my time management.
Even Maeve came by, having supplied cakes and biscuits to the coffee morning. She stopped by with her Sholley packed with leftover shortbread petticoat tails and gossip. Today she was in baby-blue, from her trainers to her bobble hat, one I’d made for her on a whim several months ago.
‘I asked around about that dog you posted on the local group – no luck unfortunately,’ she said, when I brought her out a cup of tea. She was going through a stack of felt rectangles, hoping to make faux pastries for the display. ‘Such a lovely boy though – where is he now?’
‘Oh, Cooper’s taking care of him,’ Emma chirped up as she restocked the baby-weight yarn basket. ‘The guy living on the boat up by the viaduct?’
‘You know him?’ Maeve looked intrigued. ‘What does he look like? I’ve only heard stories from Margaret at the charity shop and you know what she’s like. Basically called him a drifter and said he keeps bringing rubbish in for her to get rid of.’
A defence of Cooper was automatically on my lips. ‘Not rubbish, he’s clearing out a load of royal wedding stuff, Charles and Diana. Some people collect that – it’s not exactly worthless. And he donated cash too – forty quid.’
Maeve raised an eyebrow. ‘How do you know?’
‘She’s been on the boat,’ Emma said breezily. ‘And you’d know him if you saw him. He’s sporting some very nice jumpers,’ she added, giving me a look that sparkled with a shared joke. My face felt hot – God why did I have to go and form a one-woman fan club for the man?
‘Oh! I have seen him.’ Maeve’s crinkled cheeks pinkened. ‘He came in to buy bread and I caught him looking at the iced biscuits – the nice ones I just put out for autumn. I hadn’t seen him before so I asked if he had any plans because sometimes, you know, you can upsell people if they’ve got a party coming up or something. He just said he might have someone pop in for tea and the biscuits would probably be nice.’
I felt my skin tingle. Someone in for tea. Was that… me? Was Cooper expecting to see me again soon? But Maeve hadn’t said anything about when he’d come in. It had probably been days ago if he hadn’t brought the dog with him.
‘Did he buy any?’ I asked, resolutely not looking at Emma.
‘Eight,’ Maeve said proudly, setting her chosen felt aside for purchase. ‘Served him right before I left for the coffee morning. He was very polite, and he said he liked my hat.’
Today. ‘And he didn’t have the dog with him?’
Maeve frowned. ‘I’m not sure. Most people tie theirs to the handrail by the front door, but some use the cage round that tree on the little patch of grass. I can’t see round there from the counter. So do you know if he’s planning on moving on soon? Only I know Margaret and a few others are on to the council about him and he must have permission to be there but you know what it’s like when people start their little campaigns. If he has to leave, will he pass the dog on to you?’
‘I’m… not sure,’ I said, unexpectedly unsettled by the thought that Cooper might just vanish. I’d been reassuring myself with that thought not too long ago but hearing it from someone else made it seem more real. The idea that I might never get to joke back and forth with him again left me feeling a bit sad and grey.
‘I can put some posters up in the shop if you get some printed up – I know everything tends to be online these days but not everyone is, you know?’ Maeve said. ‘I’d hate to think of some poor pensioner missing their best friend and not knowing that he’s being taken care of.’
‘I can make some on the work laptop – right, Tabitha?’ Emma asked. ‘Get them printed at the library?’
‘Good idea.’ I managed a smile, still disturbed by the idea of a Cooper-less future. I had no right to be as bothered as I was. I knew that. It didn’t help with the twisting in my chest.
Maeve left for the bakery after buying her felt and a fancy William Morris pincushion (it felt like a pity purchase but I wasn’t turning those down these days). Emma went to the back to make a poster and I swept biscuit crumbs off the counter and straightened up the shelves.
‘Finished!’ Emma called through, and then appeared in the doorway. ‘Go have a look, I’ll man the till for a bit.’
It wasn’t as if she had to, there was no one in at the moment. It seemed our early ‘rush’ had died off entirely. I went into the break area to look at the laptop. The poster looked very smart, although there wasn’t much information on it. Just the picture of the dog, the fact he’d been found on the towpath and was safe, plus my phone number and email at the bottom. It amused me to see that Emma had deployed some 2000s ICT lessons WordArt on it. It was very cute.
I was about to pop back out and tell Emma it looked great and she could raid the petty cash for printing money, when I heard a familiar voice through the bead curtain. Richard’s voice.
I didn’t even hesitate, just plastered myself to the wall out of view of the door, like a red laser dot had appeared on my chest. I was actually holding my breath, which felt embarrassing in the extreme. But there was no way I wanted to see Richard right now, or ever again if I could help it. Was this going to be my life now? Hiding from Richard like I was playing a lifelong, professional game of hide-and-seek?
‘She’s not here at the moment,’ Emma was saying – bless her, she knew exactly what to do. I was going to make her employee of the month. ‘But you can leave them and I’ll make sure she gets them when she’s back.’
