Page 45 of Hope and Happiness in Bluebell Wood
Eventually, Jemima intervenes and tells the children that Merlin is getting tired now, and might need a nap, and gradually one by one after a final pat they disperse back to their parents.
Robin is the last one to go.
‘Will Merlin miss me?’ he asks as his mother takes one of his hands and encourages him to pass me back the lead.
‘I think he will,’ I tell him. ‘But perhaps you can see him again if it’s all right with your mum?’
‘Can I?’ Robin asks eagerly, still holding on to the lead.
‘We don’t want to impose on you,’ Robin’s mother says.
‘It’s fine,’ I say, standing up from where I’ve been sat crosslegged on the ground with the children. ‘We’d like to see Robin again, wouldn’t we, Merlin?’
Merlin looks up happily at me.
‘If you’re sure?’ Robin’s mother asks.
I nod.
‘That would be wonderful. I haven’t seen him so engaged in anything for a long time. I’m Linnet by the way.’
‘Ava,’ I say, shaking her hand. ‘I’m at Bluebird Cottage, just off the main road on the way out of the village.’
‘Ah yes, I know. Evelyn’s cottage.’
‘That’s the one. Give me a call and we can arrange something.’
We exchange mobile numbers, and then reluctantly Robin passes me back Merlin’s lead.
‘Bye, Merlin,’ he calls as Linnet guides him away. ‘See you soon.’
Merlin wags his tail.
I turn back to the stall. With everything else going on, I’d kind of forgotten that Callum and Jemima are still here too.
Callum smiles at me, and Jemima looks like she’s thinking hard about something.
‘That was lovely,’ she says, coming back to the front of the stall. ‘The children behaved so well around Merlin – has he ever been a therapy dog?’
‘Not that I know of. I’ve only had him a short while. I adopted him from a rescue centre.’
Jemima reaches down to stroke Merlin now. ‘Might you consider bringing him into the school on a regular basis?’ she asks, looking up at me. ‘I think he could be an amazing asset for us. Just look at how Robin reacted to him. Merlin had such a wonderful effect on the children.’
‘I’m not sure. Won’t he need special training to do that?’
‘I’ll look into it. But actually,’ she says, standing up again, ‘it’s not just Merlin I’m interested in . . . ’
Thirteen
Later that day, Merlin and I are waiting outside The Daft Duck.
It’s a pleasant spring evening, warm for April, and instead of subjecting ourselves to the hustle and bustle on the inside of the pub, I’ve chosen to sit outside on one of the wooden picnic tables, which in the height of summer will have a colourful umbrella in the centre shading drinkers from the sun. This evening they are bare, but in the warmth of the setting sun they are perfectly comfortable to sit at.
Luckily for me Alouette had spotted me waiting on the bench with Merlin and offered to bring me a drink out, which I’d gratefully accepted.
While I sip on my Diet Coke, I think about what had happened at the sale earlier.
Merlin had undoubtedly been a hit with the children, particularly Robin, and I could see how he would make a perfect therapy dog. But that would mean I would have to commit to going into the school on a regular basis with him, and althoughI didn’t have the same issues with groups of children that I often had with crowds of adults, I still wasn’t sure I felt ready to make that sort of promise.
