A tail of true romance
I closed my eyes and leaned towards him. Angel wedged herself on the sofa between us. She looked at me, lips pulled back...
You do like dogs, don’t you?” Phil paused with the key hovering at the lock. I swallowed. “Yes, of course.” I cleared my throat to bring my voice back to a normal pitch.
He hadn’t said anything about a dog on our dates so far, and I was definitely more of a cat person.
“That’s good.” He smiled, dimples denting his cheeks.“Angel and I have been together a long time and I really want you two to get along.”
I smiled to myself. After a couple of months, things with Phil were getting serious. I hoped he could be the one for ever.
As the key clicked, something large thudded against the other side of the door. Phil pushed, but the door wouldn’t open.
“Angel! Move, you daft dog!” After some more pushing and coaxing Phil managed to get the door open a crack, and then a paw curled round and pulled it open.
A huge bundle of golden fur leapt at him.“Down, girl!” he said.“I haven’t been away that long.”
He held the door and I clutched my handbag firmly as I looked at the dog. She was huge and filled the passage as she bounded ahead into the kitchen, her claws skittering on the wooden boards.
“I just have to feed her,” Phil said. “Go into the living room and I’ll make some coffee.”
I pushed open the door. The sofa was draped with a dark throw, which was covered in long golden dog hairs. “Move the blanket off the sofa before you sit down!” Phil shouted from the kitchen.“It’s there so that Angel doesn’t leave fur on the fabric.”
I pulled the throw to one side. It hadn’t worked.The sofa was covered in hair, too. I sat down gingerly on the edge and waited.
A few minutes later Phil came in, carrying two coffee mugs and gripping a packet of biscuits under his arm.
“There we go. You don’t take sugar, do you?” I shook my head.
Just at that moment the blonde bombshell appeared. The golden retriever had glossy yellow locks that my childhood self would have died for. She stood stock still in the doorway and watched me.
“Come on,Angel,” Phil coaxed. “Come and say hello to Ellie.”
The dog’s eyes narrowed and she walked languidly round the coffee table to Phil’s side of the sofa.
There, she draped herself at his feet, and looked at him with dark, soulful eyes. Phil scratched the top of her head idly.
We drank our coffee and Phil shared his biscuits with Angel. She took them gently from his hand.
I swear she refused to look at me. I tried to ignore her as Phil and I slid closer together on the sofa.
I closed my eyes and leaned towards him, then something warm and solid wedged itself between us, easing us apart. My eyes snapped open and Angel was sitting with her rear on the sofa between us, and her front legs still on the floor. She looked at me from the corner of her eye, lips pulled back from her teeth in a grin, and laid her head on Phil’s lap.
Round one to Angel.
“She doesn’t like me,” I said to Phil some weeks later.
We were sitting on the sofa again and Angel was lying on the floor at Phil’s feet. Every so often she would raise her head and sigh.
“She doesn’t really know you . . .” Phil began.
“Of course she does! I’m here quite a lot.” I ignored the fact that I often met Phil in the pub or a restaurant so I wouldn’t have to come to his house. “We take her for walks, together, me and you.”
I paused, thinking of the wet walks, which usually involved sticks and a stream, where invariably Angel would get out of the water and come closer to me than needed and shake herself dry.
“I like dogs.Well, I don’t dislike them. I’ve never had one, but mum has Henry and it’s just fine when I go over. What else can I do to get her to accept me?”
I spread my hands, feeling close to tears. I’d really tried getting this dog to like me. I always talked to her and petted her, but she just ignored me. Phil leaned over and put his hands on my shoulders.
Angel lifted her head and a low growl rumbled in her throat, like the sound of a tractor in the distance. Phil moved away.
Round two to Angel.
A week later I was at Phil’s, just putting a couple of chicken breasts under the grill, when my mobile sounded.
“Bother,” I muttered, wiping my hands on my jeans.
“Ellie? It’s James Pearson. I’m ringing because your mother has been taken to hospital. She had a bit of a fall. She’s OK . . . she will be OK.”
“No!” I pressed the heel of my hand against my head and leaned against the table.
Angel looked up in alarm and barked and Phil came rushing in from the living room.
“What is it?”
I gripped the table for strength. “Mum has been taken to hospital. That was her neighbour. I should go.”
I felt faint. I’d thought mum was invincible. She’d picked herself up and restarted her life 10 years ago after dad died. She was a member of all sorts of groups, had loads of friends in the neighbourhood, and she had Henry, the hound.
“Yes, of course you should. I’ll drive. Turn that grill off.”
We rushed across the county to the hospital through the busy evening traffic.When we got there we had to wait. She was in surgery.
“Her hip,” one of the nurses explained.“It’s fractured and they’re pinning it. It’s a fairly routine operation.”
I was glad the nurse thought so. It wasn’t routine for me or mum. I paced up and down the hallway, my stomach churning and my palms sweaty.
Phil bought disgusting chemicaltasting coffee from the machine but I was too anxious to want anything. A couple of hours later they said I could visit her on the ward. I was shocked to see her face, lying pale on the sheet. Her usually springy hair was flat against her head. “Mum,” I whispered.“How are you?” “I’m fine. So silly of me.” She smiled. I frowned.
“It was an accident, Ellie. I’m fine, really. I’m a bit worried about Henry, though. James has a key and will let him out, but I don’t know how long I’ll have to be here.”
It was typical of mum to worry about the greying mongrel she had adopted when dad died. He had been her life after the accident.
“We’ll go and see to him, mum,” I said,“You rest and get better.”
Phil and I went round to mum’s. James had been as good as mum promised and Henry had been out and had fresh water.
“He’s had a tin of that dog food from the cupboard,” James said.“I’d offer to look after him, but we’ve got the cats . . .”
“I’ll have to stay here,” I told Phil.“It will be easier to get to the hospital anyway.”
We kissed goodbye. Henry didn’t bat an eyelid. He was happy there was somebody there.
It was another week before I saw Phil again.Angel sniffed me suspiciously as I entered the flat. Then she growled, baring her teeth and showing plenty of pink lip.
“Angel, stop it!” Phil tapped her on the nose and she immediately slipped behind him like a shadow.
She glared at me from between his legs as he gave me a hug.
She didn’t move from his side my entire visit. If we edged closer together, her lips parted and the low rumbling from deep inside her made the floor shudder.
Round three to Angel.
Mum came home from hospital. She could get around inside the house with a walking frame, but she couldn’t go far outside until her hip was healed.
“I’ll walk Henry during the week,” James offered.“That way you’ll not have to be dashing here after work.”
I moved back to my flat, but still went over to see mum and walk Henry at the weekends. One Saturday I was strolling along the riverbank. Henry ambled companionably beside me. He was totally uninterested in fetching sticks, and didn’t like getting his paws wet. He was a very suitable dog for mum. He sniffed at the buttercups and dandelions and burrowed his nose in holes in the bank.As I watched him, I was thinking about my future with Phil.Actually, I was wondering if there was a future with Phil.
I couldn’t compete with Angel and I didn’t feel comfortable at his place. He wouldn’t leave her for any length of time and there were only so many evenings we could spend in the pub. Things didn’t feel good and it was breaking my heart.
Henry’s furious barking dragged me out of my reflection. He was leaning over the bank, tail wagging, his little legs bouncing in excitement. I caught up with him and looked down.A bedraggled golden retriever was trying desperately to get a grip on the steep bank. Each time it struggled forward, it slid back again. It looked surprisingly like Angel, but it couldn’t have been.
“Come on.” I crouched down and stretched my hand out to the dog, coaxing it towards me. Gradually, slowly, she moved forward, thick mud clinging to her legs. I stretched but was afraid that I was going to topple in the water, so I lay on the grass. My jacket was going to be filthy.
At last, after wriggling so far that the top half of me was hanging in space over the river, I managed to get a hand on the dog’s collar and pulled, helping her up the bank. She was exhausted and could barely put one leg in front of the other, her exit from the river being more of a slide than a walk.When she got to the top, she slumped down next to me.
Henry danced around her, sniffing and licking.
“Angel?” I asked curiously.
Her head rose slightly and her tail flopped.“Angel!”
“Ellie?” I turned and saw Phil hurrying towards me along the path, his jacket billowing in the wind.“Have you seen Angel? She ran off.”
“She’s here!” I yelled back, and stood up, looking at my muddy jeans and grass-stained jacket. Phil was breathless.“Oh, Angel! What have you been doing? Thank goodness you found her, Ellie. Your mum said you’d gone for a walk along the river, so we came to look for you. But Angel ran off and I couldn’t find her.”
He kissed me. Angel lifted her head slightly then slumped back down. Round four to me, I thought.
Angel tolerates me now. The growling has stopped, although she still eases herself on the sofa between us if we appear to be getting too friendly. Phil and I are spending less time in the pub and I’m beginning to think we really could have a future together.Angel is happiest when I bring over Henry, whom she adores, and we all go for a walk. On those days I think she may even like me. My win, I think.
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