‘Did you leave him on the boat?’ I asked, once I’d sobered. ‘The dog?’
‘He’s actually tied up outside,’ Cooper winced. ‘I didn’t want to risk him eating a Diana and getting ill. Plus, you know… I have a lot of very valuable blankets that I’m quite partial to.’
‘Good call,’ I said, trying to ignore the little twinge of pleasure that gave me. ‘Can I see him?’
‘Sure – though, to be clear, I didn’t lure you with a puppy, you very much volunteered,’ Cooper said.
I’d fortunately mostly finished my shopping and I could pick up the last few bits later. We went to the checkouts and I let Cooper go in front of me, as he was only buying the dog food and some plastic pots of instant noodles and porridge. He packed everything into a tatty rucksack and then waited while my week’s worth of shopping came down the conveyor belt. When I started packing, he picked up an empty bag.
‘Need help?’
‘Oh!’ I was surprised, both that he was offering and that he’d actually asked. ‘Yes, please.’
The woman on the till looked at us and sighed. ‘You’ve got a good one there, love.’
‘Uh… thanks,’ I said, flushing, and then realised I should probably have set her straight. But I didn’t and Cooper didn’t either.
We packed up my shopping and I paid with a quick tap of my card. I resolutely did not find it insanely attractive that he’d put the eggs on the top of a bag so they wouldn’t get crushed. Like a functional adult. As we wheeled our trolleys out, he glanced at my bags.
‘You like to cook?’
‘Hmm?’ I followed his gaze and realised that it was pretty obvious from what I’d bought – lots of vegetables, fresh fish, spices and other essential ingredients. Nothing pre-made in sight. Except the two tubs of Häagen-Dazs and the three bottles of wine. ‘I do, yeah. Not that I’m great at it… I take it you don’t?’ I asked, faintly teasing.
He shrugged. ‘Never really had the time before. I think I might try and get into it.’
‘You can probably do really nice porridge on that stove – much better than the pots. I’m kind of jealous actually, I’ve always wanted a woodstove,’ I confessed as we left through the automatic doors.
‘It is nice, yeah, especially since the wood’s basically free round my way, and I am at heart a bit of a cheapskate.’ We turned a corner and I saw the dog even before it jumped up on its hind legs and started barking at Cooper. It was a wiry-haired little terrier, white and brown, with enormous bushy eyebrows and a curled over tail like the top of a Mr Whippy cone.
‘Oh, he’s lovely,’ I cooed, watching the dog eagerly welcome Cooper back. He was tied to a bike rack with what I realised was a dressing-gown belt attached to his collar. I knelt down and held out my hand for him to sniff. The dog left off pawing at Cooper’s jeans to turn black button eyes on me and start licking my fingers.
‘Wish they’d had a proper lead,’ Cooper sighed. ‘Would save me from looking like a total prat on the way home.’
Maybe it was the dog’s cute little puppy eyes, or the thought of going back to the flat on my own – but I found myself saying, ‘I’ll give you a lift. If you like?’
‘I wasn’t fishing for one.’ Cooper looked uncomfortable, busying himself with patting the dog and untying him from the bike rack.
‘Okay… I’m still offering,’ I said, then added, ‘if only so you help me pack all this stuff into the boot.’ It was fairly obviously an excuse. I didn’t have that much shopping and I was used to handling twice as much by myself, but it was enough for Cooper to relax again.
‘Sure. Thanks.’
He put the dog in the car and then helped me load the shopping bags while the terrier whirled around in the back seat, exploring every nook and cranny. There was going to be white hair all over the upholstery and I didn’t even care. When we got in, I started the car and winced as myBest of Dolly PartonCD kicked in. I quickly turned it off before she could fully launch into ‘Jolene’.
‘Sorry – sort of my go-to for break-ups,’ I said.
‘Understandable. My guilty pleasure’s the occasional blast of her cover of “Harper Valley PTA”.’
‘You like Dolly Parton?’ I raised an eyebrow.
‘I think it’s impossible not to, isn’t it? That’s like not liking fun, or cake. Country gets unfairly maligned, I think, but that’s just the opinion of a city boy,’ he said, putting on an appalling Southern accent.
I giggled. Cooper whistled and the dog shot over the centre console and into his lap.
‘You’ve got him well trained already,’ I laughed, manoeuvring us out of the car park.
‘Nothing to do with me. He’s just a clever boy, aren’t you?’ He rubbed the dog’s head, flapping his ears about.
I had a sudden brainwave. ‘I think I have some of my aunt’s old dog stuff stored at the flat – a lead and some bowls, stuff like that. If you’d like it, I mean, it’s just gathering dust at the moment.’
