Page 116 of Meet me at the Seaside Cottages

Eriskay is digging a large hole in the flowerbeds.

‘Ah,’ says Janey. ‘I’m afraid I rather promised him early.’

And sure enough, a car pulls up, before Lish gets out and goes round front side and opens it. Emma is in the back and comes to help. As the dogs start yipping, very, very slowly, they raise Johnson up out of the front seat and help him with his walker. He cracks a half-smile, and inches to the pavement.

‘Well, well,’ says Janey going forward, smiling.

‘You said come early,’ says Lish. ‘But there are no dogs left apart from the really funny-looking ones’

Johnson has a slightly worried look on his face and Janey looks around for a garden chair. Lowell of course doesn’t own anything as vulgar as a garden chair but leads him over to a minimalist bench. Janey starts to wonder. She had thought this was a brilliant idea, and Lish had agreed; something to take Johnson’s mind off things – his recovery would be ongoing for a long time – and get him out of the house and exercising again. They had both been rather proud of themselves and Lish had sworn the children to secrecy.

But Johnson is frowning – his usual expression these days, such a change from the friendly face he wore before – as he sits on the uncomfortable bench. The left side of his face is still a little droopy, Janey observes. Emma covers his knees in a blanket and Lish and Janey swap glances, then they lead Eriskay over. Eriskay has found something in the flowerbeds – at first Janey dreads to think, but it turns out to be a small wooden mouse; Verity must have lost it.

Eriskay drops it at Johnson’s feet and looks up, his ugly fuzzy face expectant and his pink tongue out. There is a moment of silence. Then, very slowly, Johnson leans out his right hand and scritches the dog on the head. The puppy’s tail thumps on the ground.

‘What’s his name?’ says Johnson.

‘Eris—’ starts Janey.

‘Whatever you like,’ says Lish, quickly.

‘He’s the colour of a dustbin,’ says Johnson, slowly.

‘You can’t call him Dustbin,’ says Lish. As she says this, Eriskay looks down at the wooden mouse again and picks it up, nearly swallows it, almost starts choking and has to be picked up and patted on the back. He is clearly not the smartest of the beasties.

‘Dusty?’ says Emma. And they decide, on balance, that Dusty is a very good name for their new grey dog.

There is a commotion on the street. It is a whole line of cars, and nearly two o’clock.

‘Oh, crap!’ says Janey. ‘We’ve only got Caithness left!’

Her phone pings with a message:Hi sis. I forgot to say, keep me a dog. Love you!

‘Ah.’

‘I didn’t think anyone would want one of these dogs,’ says Lowell. ‘Except for Argyll, and they can’t have her.’

He backs away protectively.

‘We’ll get going,’ says Lish, kissing Janey. ‘He’s a hunk,’ she whispers in Janey’s ear. ‘I mean it. Keep hold of him. Shame his house looks like such a mess. Also you might want to have a word about his trousers.’

Lowell’s trousers are covered in dog slobber.

‘Uh-huh,’ says Janey, as they help Johnson back into the car, where Lish throws open the boot and shows the secret cache of pet supplies all picked up and ready to go, including a seat belt.

‘I love you,’ says Johnson, haltingly.

‘Course you do,’ says Lish as they all drive off.

*

The cars are starting to park up the narrow road.

‘Oh, no,’ says Janey. ‘Me and my big mouth.’

‘That’s village life,’ says Lowell. ‘Word gets around.’

‘What shall we do?’ says Janey, watching two families – oh, my God, with children – getting out of their respective cars.

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