Henry stroked along the dog’s abdomen; Myrtle wriggled with excitement at receiving his attention.
‘You said she hadn’t been herself. My guess, seeing her today, and comparing her to the bitches I’ve seen at our kennels, is that she’s pregnant.’
‘Myrtle? How?’ Mary looked at Ava, her expression a mix of shock and confusion.
‘Really? And you’re the animal expert!’ Ava looked from Mary to Henry, her mind still trying to process the information. ‘Has Granger not been done?’
Henry stopped stroking the dog and raised his eyebrows. ‘He’s a stud dog.’
‘Who’s Granger?’ Mary asked.
Ava ignored the question. Her mind was trying to catch up with the possibility that Myrtle could be pregnant. The dogs had often wandered from the path she walked to explore the woods, sometimes being gone for twenty or more minutes.Would they have had time? Wait. . . ‘But he’s retired.’
‘Yes, that makes him old, not incapable.’ Henry stood up.
Mary looked between the two of them. ‘She asks again, who’s Granger?’
Henry walked to the table and touched the top of a chair. ‘Do you mind?’
Ava gestured that it was fine for him to take a seat and turned automatically to put the kettle on.
‘Granger is one of my family’s stud dogs. A chocolate Labrador whose pedigree you can trace back for generations.’ Henry spoke with an amused tone, as he settled himself at the table.
Mary whistled, taking the seat next to him. ‘Go, Myrtle, you minx!’
Ava couldn’t believe that both Mary and Henry seemed to find the prospect amusing. ‘But Myrtle was all grown up when I got her. I’ve never owned one puppy, let alone a whole litter.’ Ava prepared a tray, with a pot of tea, three cups and matching saucers, a jug of milk and a bowl of sugar and took it to the table.
As she sat and went to speak, Henry’s phone rang. He excused himself to the back garden to answer it. Myrtle followed in close pursuit.
Ava attempted to lean over far enough so that she could peer out of the window without being spotted. But her attempt to fathom any clues as to the nature of the call was scuppered; distracting her, Mary tugged on her arm and drew her in closer.
‘Yes?’ Ava swallowed, she wasn’t sure she was prepared for questions about her and Henry, or that she wanted to share memories of their times in the woods with anyone else, even Mary.
‘Is it the fact Lord Hotlington is here or the prospect of Myrtle being pregnant that has made you decide it’s a teapot and best china occasion?’ With that, she burst into giggles.
Ava looked at the tray and couldn’t help herself, giggling too, at the obscure sight before them; teabag tea made in a mismatch of mugs was their norm. She couldn’t recall the last time she used her mum’s best china, and yet there it was, sat primly on a tray before them. ‘I have no idea. It seemed like the thing to do.’ As she recovered herself and wiped the tears from her eyes, she looked at Mary. ‘In all seriousness, I am worried. Myrtle is my baby, my only family now. What if anything goes wrong? I can’t imagine what I’d do if—’
Mary reached across the table and took Ava’s hand. ‘You’ve got me, and you’ll see, Myrtle will be fine, and you’ll be fine. If you have any issues, you’ve got connections to help you — a vet and a team of volunteers all used to caring for animals. And don’t forget you know more than you think. You’ve helped or at least seen your mum raise fledgelings, badger and fox cubs, hoglets . . . and more, I’m sure. Wild or domestic, the pregnancy and birthing thing is not so different. And there’s Gino.’
At the mention of his name and the memory of what his wish had been, and her determination to help him fulfil it, Ava’s cheeks coloured.
‘And I’ll be here,’ Henry interjected.
Ava and Mary turned in unison as Henry walked back towards the table.
‘I won’t walk away from this responsibility. I’ll come to appointments with you, pay for anything you need, and, of course, that includes the vet’s bills.’
Mary’s eyes boggled.
Ava nodded, smiling at Henry. ‘Thank you. I knew we could depend on you.’ In all honesty, Ava hadn’t even got as far as considering any such thing, but Henry seemed to need reassurance that she believed he wouldn’t run away and she was happy to give it to him.
Mary paused, teaspoon hovering above the teapot, as she looked between them, her expression incredulous. ‘You do both know it’s the dog who’s pregnant, don’t you?’
Ava averted her gaze from Henry’s. ‘Of course.’ She attempted to laugh, but even she didn’t recognise the too-light sound that escaped her constricted throat.
Henry coughed, sat down and set about pouring milk into the cups. Thanking him, Ava thought of the moments before Mary had walked in on them, and wondered if she would have stopped to be careful, or if Henry had come prepared. He’d said she was the only person who knew him and yet, it occurred to her, that she had no idea what he’d done during his absence from Dapplebury. It was true there was so much they shared, but undeniably there was also the void of time between them.
Now, at least, Myrtle had given them a reason to spend time together. Ava could seize her moment, as she originally intended when she’d asked him along for a walk, and get to know the new Lord Bramlington. And not just in the physical sense — though that prospect remained tantalisingly tempting as she recalled the touch of his hands upon her skin and his firm body beneath hers.
