Page 22 of Summer in Greece

CHAPTER 9

SHELLY

Dover, present day.

IN THE SPARE ROOM OF WHITE COTTAGE, Shelly kept her eyes closed and allowed memories of the first time she had met David and his dog to fill her mind.

*

‘I haven’t been watching you at all,’ he said with a slightly hurt tone and a faint blush. ‘I’m a lifeguard, it’s my job to watch the swimmers and you’re good, you stand out. Why don’t you join the swimmers’ club? They coach people with potential. Anyway, that’s your choice. Tell me, what should I do about my dog?’

‘How long have you had her?’

‘Since I was a boy.’ Shelly tried to guess how old he was, but failed. A distant look came to his face. ‘She cocks her head and stares at me when I speak to her, like she’s saying, “Talk dog, will you, boss? I’m not a human, you know.”’ He laughed softly and scratched the top of her head. ‘She’s my companion, tripping hazard, hot water bottle, and the best friend a guy could have. If I’m not giving her enough attention, she pushes her head under my hand and peers up at me with her amazingly deep eyes telling me she wants to be fussed.’ His face lit up as he spoke. ‘And when I take my shoes and socks off, she licks my feet with her big, sandpaper tongue until I’m laughing out loud, then she steals a sock and races around with it. At least she used to.’ He turned to the dog, his voice went quiet. ‘What will I do when she’s gone? I want to . . .’ The rest of the sentence gave up trying to make it into the real world.

‘How terrible. I’ve never had a dog, tell me more.’

He glanced up, but hesitated for a moment. ‘We have an understanding, me and Pat. In the early days, she was a bundle of raw energy, but so was I. She ruined the furniture and woodwork. My poor mum . . .’ He glanced up at the sky with gentle eyes, then down again. A simple gesture that told Shelly his mum had passed away too. ‘My mum put up with a lot from the two of us. Yet she seemed to understand how important Pat became to me. In teaching the dog some discipline, I was teaching myself at the same time. Anyway, we helped each other along in those early days, and now, she’s all the family I have.’

They sat in silence again until Shelly made a suggestion. ‘I think you know what you must do if you really love her. Give her the best week of her life, then let her rest in peace.’

He stared at the paving slabs. ‘Yeah, sure. I wish it was as easy to do as it is to say. I can’t imagine life without my dog, she’s just, well, an extension of me. I was an only child, going off the rails a bit. Almost got expelled from school but then my parents, well my mum, got me this cute, sweet puppy from the animal shelter for my birthday. I simply fell in love with her. She changed my life, gave me a reason to get up in the morning, and I couldn’t wait to get back to her after school. She had six pups, they’re all still going strong. Two of them are guide dogs.’

Shelly heard the pride in his voice. ‘Then you should take her to see her children one last time.’

They sat in silence again, until he said, ‘I think you’re right, great idea, thanks.’ Another pause. ‘Why were you crying?’

She touched the bracelet and felt her sadness gather. ‘I don’t think I can talk about it.’ She sighed. ‘I know I should, but it’s too difficult.’ She gasped, tried to conjure up some energy to explain. ‘I lost . . .’ She couldn’t quite get there. ‘I mean, well . . .’ Her mouth wouldn’t form the words that were in her head. Everything was out of sync and the emotion overwhelmed her again in one great suffocating wave.

Fat tears brimmed and spilled over as she forced the two words that she sensed he would understand. ‘My mother . . .’

‘You lost your mother?’ Shelly nodded. ‘Oh . . . sorry. Perhaps we shouldn’t have barged in on you the way we did. You need to be alone; I understand, really.’

She nodded again. A tear splashed onto the back of her hand. The dog made a sad little whimper and licked it away with one great swipe of its pink tongue. Shelly leaned forward and rested her cheek on the dog’s broad head. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’ve been a big help.’

‘I have to go to work soon, but I can’t leave you like this. Please, can I buy you a coffee, or a Coke? You’ll feel better after a sugar hit, honestly. Grief is so exhausting. I’ve been there,’ he said simply.

She thought about it, shrugged, and nodded.

They walked over to McDonald’s where he ordered two cappuccinos. Giving all their attention to their drinks, they were silent for a moment, then, aware he was watching her she looked up. ‘What?’

His kind smile started in his eyes, then lit up his face. She smiled back, then after an unknown length of time, when they must have looked ridiculous to fellow diners, she snapped back to reality. ‘Hello?’ she said.

He shook his head rapidly. ‘Sorry, was I staring?’

She nodded, although his smile was still with her, like a tiny spark of warmth in her chest.

He said, ‘I don’t even know your name.’

Shelly realised she was batting her eyelashes, then felt the heat of a blush.

‘I’m David,’ he said, sticking his hand across the table. ‘My grandad was a David, my dad was a David, and when I have a son, he’ll be a David, too; or probably Dave. Most people use Dave these days, don’t they? Firstborn son, family tradition; I come from a long line of Davids. How mad is that?’

She found herself laughing and stuck out her hand. ‘How do you do, David? I’m Shelly. No long line of Shellys, but my mum just loved the name.’ They grinned at each other and, for the first time since Christmas, Shelly felt a little joy at the mention of her mother. Under the table, her fingertips sought the bracelet and a secret smile directed at her mum bloomed in her heart. This David from a long line of Davids had broken the shackles of misery and set her free for a few minutes. She felt lightheaded, dizzy.

‘That’s a great idea of yours,’ David said, breaking her thoughts. ‘I’ll take Pat to see her pups . . . well, they’re not pups now, of course, but your children are always your children, I guess. What made you think of it?’

‘I’m going to be a vet.’ Shelly pulled up short of saying when I grow up. ‘I have an affinity with animals, you know, I understand them and they understand me. Can’t imagine life without them. I think it’s because I’m an only child.’