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‘With butter,’ Valentina added and Frankie also got the Lurpak out of the fridge as the dogs all came running back into the barn conversion to greet Valentina.

Luckily, Valentina, a frequent visitor and dog lover, came prepared and gave each of them a gravy bone from her pocket. Happy with their treat, all four dogs tore round the large, open-plan kitchen, lounge and dining area, their barks of excitement echoing. Then, as one, they all flopped onto the dog beds Frankie had dotted around her home.

‘So, make me a cuppa and tell me all the goss from Saturday night,’ Valentina said, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. As sisters went, they were chalk and cheese in the looks department with Valentina taking after their Scottish father, with light hair, fair skin and blue eyes and Frankie inheriting their mother’s Italian dark-brown, almost black, thick wavy hair, brown eyes and olive skin tone.

‘There’s not a huge amount of gossip to tell, really,’ Frankie said as she switched on the kettle. ‘I gave out my number to a few people who seemed keen to get a dog walker.’

‘That’s good!’

As she made the tea, Frankie weighed up telling Valentina about Ben, then decided not to because as much as she loved her older sister, Valentina couldn’t keep anything to herself and she’d immediately tell their parents and their brother, Rocco, then her grandfather and before she knew it her aunt and uncle and cousins would also know and they’d all want to meet Ben. And Frankie realised she may not get the chance to see Ben for as much as a drink in the two weeks he was plant-sitting if he really was a workaholic like Colin said.

Popping down the mugs of tea on the table, Frankie glanced at the clock, seeing it was quarter past ten. ‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ Her sister always kept a regimented nine-to-five at her accountancy firm.

‘I took the day off. I’ve still got some annual leave to take before my maternity leave starts next week and I need to go and get some more clothes as I seem to have ballooned over the weekend.’

‘How did you get on picking out a pram?’

‘Not very well.’ Valentina shook her head. ‘There’s so much choice and some aren’t even called prams, but travel systems and have interchangeable parts for going in the car and facing different directions. They’re like Transformers and too confusing for my baby brain to comprehend.’ She sighed.

They sat and drank their tea and chatted for another few minutes before walking back outside. Valentina got into her shiny red Corsa as Frankie bundled the dogs into her mud-splattered rusted old van, ready to go and pick up the other dogs due for their Monday morning walk.

‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Valentina called out through the open car window. ‘It looks like Mrs Costello’s back, I saw her car turning into her driveway when I passed by last night.’

Frankie closed the van door. ‘That’s odd, she normally doesn’t come back from France until the spring. She hasn’t messaged me, but I’ll pop by later and see if she needs Toffee walked. Have fun clothes shopping!’

‘Thanks! I’ll hopefully get a dress for tonight. See you later!’ And with a wave, Valentina drove off.

Frankie climbed up into her van. She was looking forward to that evening’s family get-together at their grandfather’s trattoria to celebrate his birthday. Matteo’s Trattoria was always closed on Mondays, and the family would have all evening to catch up over endless platters of food. Frankie was already salivating at the thought of all the dishes that would be on offer. Tonight, she’d definitely wear something with a stretchy waistband.

* * *

With the morning walks completed and dogs dropped back at their homes, Frankie headed back to the barn for lunch. Whisking up some eggs to make an omelette, she got out her phone. As Sunday was the one day she didn’t work, Frankie always turned her work mobile off. Switching it on now, it pinged into life, and she was surprised to see so many messages had amassed over the previous twenty-four hours. All were new numbers. She also had five voicemails.

She listened to the first message as she poured the eggs into the melted butter in her frying pan.

‘Hello, my name’s Alison, I’m a friend of Helen… um, I met you at the wedding on Saturday. I was at the singles table behind you. I’m hoping you can walk my dog. And I’d like to sign up for the extras please? You can get back to me at this number.’ Alison rang off. Phone still clutched to her ear as she got out a plate, Frankie wondered what “extras” Alison referred to. Possibly the dog boarding.

The next message confused Frankie even more.

‘Hello, my name is Sandra and I’m calling to see if I could sign my son up for your services. Will it confuse matters if it’s my dog he uses?’ Sandra reeled off her number, then her son’s number along with his age and occupation.

Frankie listened to the next message. Again it was someone who’d met her at the wedding who wanted to sign up for dog walking and did Frankie want a list of her hobbies and interests?

Why on earth would she want those?

Frankie was so distracted she nearly burnt her lunch and she hurriedly sprinkled some chopped tomato and grated cheese over the eggs before sliding it onto her plate. She sat at the table, closely followed by the dogs.

Forking some omelette into her mouth, Frankie scrolled through the text messages. She’d never known dog walking to be in such demand. Although there had been an influx of people moving to the area over the past couple of years due to new houses being built on the outskirts of the village. Drumkeldy and the surrounding area was located on the Highland Boundary Fault, and considered to be within commuting distance of Glasgow, Stirling and Edinburgh.

But it was the requests for “extra services” that threw Frankie. She called back Alison who seemed delighted to hear from her.

Alison explained she had a two-year-old boxer called Bruno. Alison worked in Drumkeldy and wanted to have Bruno walked one day a week. And that it didn’t matter which day as she could work around Frankie’s schedule.

Frankie took down all the information and then Alison asked, ‘And how much extra is the dating service?’

‘Dating service?’

‘Yes.’ Alison sighed. ‘To be honest, it’s really that I’d like to be signed up for.’