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‘Elsie? Yes, the lady with the bakery in Penworth Bay? The one with the famous cheese and onion pasties?’
Ginny grinned. ‘Yep, that’s the one.’
‘Oh, I have missed those. I don’t think I’ve had one since I was last here, five years ago.’ Poppy could almost hear her stomach rumbling at the mere thought of them. She hadn’t been hungry when she’d woken up – who can eat at half past six in the morning? Definitely not a night owl like her. But now she was starving.
‘We’ll have to pop up there on our lunch break one day.’
‘Yes, that’s a good idea.’
It almost felt as though she’d known Ginny for months, not just a day. She guessed it was because Aunt Flora had been speaking about her so much, about all the staff, volunteers and dogs at the home, in fact. Partly to take Poppy’s mind off what had been going on in her own life, but she was sure partly because her aunt had known she’d relent and take up Flora’s invitation of taking a break down here and had wanted her to feel at home. She smiled.
‘Great. Maybe tomorrow?’ Ginny said.
Poppy nodded as the small bell above the door into the reception area tinkled, signalling someone had just walked in. ‘I wonder who that could be at this time?’
‘Oh, that’ll be Darryl, my partner. He promised to pop in on the way to work to collect the adoption advertisements. He dedicates a column in the local paper to Wagging Tails.’
‘Aunt Flora mentioned that. She said it was having a real impact on adoption rates.’
‘Yes, that’s right. I’m just hoping it continues.’ Ginny grimaced before gently transferring Dougal from her lap to Poppy’s. ‘I’ll be back in a mo.’
Poppy listened as Ginny left the kennel and went to greet Darryl. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but by the tone of the chatter, they were both happy to see one another. She sighed. She couldn’t remember the last time Ben had spoken to her with any interest, let alone as much joy in his voice as Darryl and Ginny had for each other.
Though, to be fair, Poppy had been the same, struggling to drum up any enthusiasm for the relationship by the end. It just fizzled out eventually. The love had faded over the years, and she’d begun to feel like a spare part, just a small irritating dot in the distance, somewhere on his horizon.
Leaning her head back against the concrete wall, she listened as the Christmas music was turned up a notch. She closed her eyes as laughter penetrated the chorus, followed by a loud thud and more laughter. It sounded as though something had been knocked over. They must be dancing along to the music.
She’d never have that again. Not the type of love where she’d be happy to mess around and make a fool of herself without fearing judgement. Had she felt as comfortable in her relationship with Ben as Ginny obviously was with Darryl? At the beginning, maybe. But she remembered being self-conscious and worrying that the daftest remark or a habit of hers would annoy him, drive him away.
Of course, she’d eventually got to a point where she’d felt comfortable with him. Possibly not ever ‘in his league’, but comfortable. Opening her eyes, she turned her mug in her hand and watched as the coffee swilled precariously close to the rim before settling back at the bottom of the mug again.
That wasn’t fair. It had been her lack of confidence, her insecurities which had led to her feelings of inadequacy. It hadn’t been his fault, but, if she was honest, it may have been partly due to how she’d felt, which had led to the demise of their relationship. If she’d felt more confident at the beginning of their journey together, they would have likely pursued more common hobbies. She’d have stepped out of her bubble, and they would have built shared interests, and everyone knows that shared interests help cement a relationship, don’t they?
She listened as the landline rang and the music was turned down. A few moments later, the door to the kennels was opened once more.
Ginny came to stand outside Dougal’s kennel, her hand holding the metal bars.
‘Poppy, that was Mack, the vet, on the phone. He said he’s had the test results back already and wants to see Dougal as soon as possible.’
‘Already? I’d assumed they wouldn’t be in until this afternoon at the earliest.’
‘Yes, he sounded quite serious too.’
‘Right.’ Poppy looked down at the small pup, a lump forming in her throat.
6
Sitting on the plastic chair, Poppy looked out of the large window opposite and willed her legs to stop shaking. It was no good, of course. She couldn’t stop them; it was a habit of hers whenever she was nervous and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been as nervous as she was today. Dougal was the first dog she’d seen to be so poorly, and that was in all the time she’d been visiting her aunt and helping at the rescue. Of course, she had no doubt that Aunt Flora would have shielded her from the most terrible of cases when she was growing up, but she’d still seen her fair share of mistreated dogs come through as an adult. Dogs who had been neglected, abused, abandoned.
‘Dougal?’ The door to the treatment room opened and Mack indicated Poppy to step through.
Lifting Dougal into her arms, she stood up and mumbled as she walked through the open door. She just wanted to get this over and done with, to be told the bad news and get Dougal started on treatment. ‘Hi.’
‘Morning. How’s this one been overnight, then?’ Closing the door behind them, Mack indicated for her to place Dougal on the examining table.
‘The same, really. Very lethargic. Just sleeping constantly.’ Once she’d lifted him up, she fussed his ears. ‘He ate some chicken, but not much, just the tiniest piece.’
‘Right. Unfortunately, that’s to be expected. We’ve received the blood results back and I’m afraid I’m going to have to be the bearer of bad news.’ Mack placed his palms on the table and looked down at Dougal, his mouth turned down.
