Page 8 of The Hooker

“I don’t know!” She tugs a violent hand through her hair, and I frown when she rips strands from her scalp. I take her hand and squeeze it. It shakes in mine.

“I’ll call Poppy and check.” I wait as she puts in her password and finds Poppy’s contact. Right below mine. Apparently we text more than her family, but I realise it vaguely as I click the call button.

“Hey, Daze, everything okay?”

“Hi, Poppy, it’s Jamie.”

“What’s the matter?” she asks sharply. “Is Daisy okay?”

“Everything’s fine, hopefully. We’re having trouble finding Westley and wanted to check you dropped him off.”

“I dropped him off a while ago. I set him up in the outdoor kennel and made sure the gate was closed. He’s gone?”

“Looks like it. Thanks, Poppy, see you later.” I hang up to update Daisy, who’s been clutching my hand the whole time, her glassy eyes fixated on me. “She dropped him off and put him in the kennel.”

Daisy’s chin quivers, and she whispers, “He’s gone?”

“We’re gonna find him,” I promise and hope it’s true. “You’ve checked inside and the garden?”

She nods. “Whenever I come home, he runs up to me. He’s always done it. He’s not here.” She takes a shaky breath and bites her lip. “Once, when he was really little, he escaped under the gate and I found him across the road.”

There’s enough light to see a gap between the gate and the concrete path. Fuck. This is going to be a long night.

“Okay, so we search the streets.”

“Okay.”

I keep hold of her hand and begin the walk to the end of the street and back, keeping an eye out for a small, red body and call his name. Daisy is panicked. I can hear it in her voice and the fact she hasn’t realised she’s still holding my hand.

I hiss when I step on a rock and discover I’m not wearing shoes. Hearing her upset on the phone centred my focus on her, and I left my shoes in the garage. Can’t go back now. I’m not leaving her on her own to search for her missing pet while I find shoes.

The path is damp with rain from a few hours ago and wind tunnels down the street. Streetlights cast shadows on Daisy’s face, highlighting the tightness around her mouth that’s usually quick to spread in a smile.

We reach the bottom of the street and make our way up the other side, checking under trees and peering into dimly lit front gardens.

“What if he’s cold? Or hurt?” she says at the top of the street when we haven’t found him. She’s clutching my arm now, holding on for dear life, and I can’t help tugging her into a hug. Our first hug and it’s an attempt to stop her from crying.

My chin rests on her head and I tuck her into me, enveloping her entirely in my arms. “He’s smart. We’ll find him, or he’ll find his way home by himself when he gets bored exploring and wants dinner. Is there anywhere he’s particularly interested in?”

She sniffs and rubs her cold nose against my chest and shivers. “Not that I can think of.”

“What about the bush reserve a street over?” I wrap my arms tighter around her shoulders and waist, trying to make sure she’s warm. She’s still in her uniform, but the wind’s clearly burrowing through the material, leaving her skin chilled.

She stiffens and lifts her head so our foreheads press together. “But it’s so big, we’d never find him.”

“We will.” I grab her hand again and tug her towards the next street. To the bush with winding dirt pathways and wooden bridges that need maintenance with rivers below them a puppy could be swept away in. “We’ll find him.”

We reach the entrance to the reserve and wash our shoes, or feet in my case, so we don’t bring unwanted diseases to the native trees, and call for Westley. I flinch when a ruru swoops over us with its eerie screech. Wind whistles through the trees as we move deeper into the bush, careful to stay on the track, and I turn my phone torch on as we leave the streetlights.

As we get to the first fork in the track there’s a faint yip, and Daisy gasps and yells his name. We follow the pathway with the scared yapping and reach a bridge.

“Westley,” she calls and he barks and then whines, high-pitched and panicked. “Westley, where are you?”

I edge around the short bank leading to the water and shine the light under the bridge. “He’s down here.”

His whines get higher when he notices me, and his shaking body topples with the force of his wagging tail.

“Hi, Westley. Hi, baby.” Daisy appears over my shoulder. “Can you reach him?”

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