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Trish: FUUUCCCK YES Hannah!
Jess: SO PROUD OF YOU HAN
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
‘I want to take Scrumpy home,’ said Rob, holding tightly to his lead on the patch of scrubland at the side of the vet surgery. For fifty euros they’d learned that he was a little underweight, but otherwise young and strong, probably no more than two years old. He’d had vaccinations and tablets for fleas and worms, and they now had some special shampoo for the scaly patches on his skin. They also had the number for a local grooming parlour, where they would cut his claws and clean his teeth and ears, and the details of a local dog shelter about ten kilometres to the north of Granada.
‘OK,’ said Hannah, wondering if there was somewhere near here that would provide them both with a decent coffee. The vet was on a scruffy retail park, sandwiched between a supermarket and a furniture store, but there was no café in sight. ‘Where will he go in the meantime? It could be months before he’s got his passport to travel, so what happens between now and then?’
‘I have no idea,’ Rob said gloomily. ‘I was thinking we could go to the shelter the vet mentioned; maybe we can pay them to keep him until we can ship him home.’
‘Let’s go there next,’ Hannah suggested. ‘Have you got any other options?’
‘Maybe,’ said Rob. ‘I’ve got a list of about ten, none of them very good.’
‘What’s your ideal scenario?’
Rob hesitated, then swallowed hard. ‘Somebody who lives here. Somebody we know who would care for Scrumpy until he’s ready to travel. Take him to vet appointments, get his jabs, look after him like he was their own.’
Hannah raised an eyebrow as Rob looked away shiftily. ‘So when you said you had no idea, you actually meant you want to ask my dad to take him,’ she said, folding her arms.
‘Not necessarily. I’m thinking he might know someone,’ Rob said quickly. ‘He’s part of the ex-pat community – how long has he lived here?’
‘Seventeen years, nearly.’Almost all of Luke’s life, she thought, trying not to feel bitter about it.
‘Exactly,’ said Rob. ‘He’ll have friends who love dogs; maybe he can help us find someone.’ He was talking too fast, and Hannah realised how desperate he was.
‘Look. My family . . . it’s complicated.’ She raked her hands through her hair, wondering how to explain. She didn’t understand most of it, so what chance did Rob have?
‘I know,’ he said. ‘Actually, that’s not true, obviously. But I’m not asking you to turn up on his doorstep and beg; I just wondered if you could give him a call.’
‘It’s not that easy,’ said Hannah. ‘If he knows I’m in Spain, he’ll wonder why I haven’t gone to see him.’
‘And why haven’t you?’ Rob asked.
Hannah sighed again, more heavily this time. ‘Because of you, basically. He doesn’t know that my husband and I have split up. I can’t just turn up with a different guy and expect him not to ask questions. My family doesn’t do separation or divorce, and he won’t believe we’re just friends any more than Mark did.’
Rob’s brow furrowed. ‘Wait, but isn’t he divorced from your mum?’
‘Yeah, and his punishment was to move to Spain permanently. It was a huge drama that broke up our family.’
Rob pressed his lips together thoughtfully, absently stroking Scrumpy’s head until the dog licked his face and snapped him out of his reverie. ‘And he was good mates with your ex? What was his name again?’
‘Graham. And no, they didn’t know each other. They never met, actually.’
‘Wait, what?’ said Rob, his eyebrows now off the scale. ‘You were married for fourteen years and your husband and dad never met?’
‘No,’ said Hannah. ‘It’s not that weird, if you think about it. Our families knew each other when Graham and I were young, but he was a spotty little kid that nobody noticed. Dad was gone by the time I was fifteen, so he didn’t come to our wedding.’
‘And you never brought Graham here to visit?’
‘No. He didn’t like flying, and he’s allergic to everything. I got back in touch with Dad about ten years ago, and I’ve visited him three times since then. Graham knew, obviously, but I always told my mum I was on a work training course and came in winter so I didn’t get a tan.’
‘Christ,’ said Rob. ‘Your family is really quite messed up.’
‘You have no idea.’ Sometimes Hannah wondered what family therapy might be like with her estranged, ex-religious cult parents, her cheating husband and her closeted little brother. What therapist in their right mind would take that on?
‘I’m still confused, though,’ said Rob. ‘Why can’t I meet your dad?’
