Just The Way You Are

There was nothing else for it. I scrambled through to the other side and straightened up, clutching the remains of the chicken. Here I came face to face with a gaggle of adults and children staring at me from the kitchen doorway. I was even more embarrassed to see that one of them was Sam.

‘I’m so sorry!’ I managed to squeak. ‘I’ve only had him since yesterday. My eleven-year-old neighbour found him in a plastic bag in the forest and I said I’d look after him for her.’

An older man in a suit glared at Sam. ‘What the hell is she doing in your house?’

‘Um… perhaps it’s best if I get him back, and then I can explain…’ I waved in the general direction of the doorway.

They looked at me, a mixture of confused alarm, outrage and one or two secretive smirks.

‘Where is he?’ Sam asked, face serious but thankfully not angry.

‘He’s… gone through there.’ I winced. ‘I think I heard him go upstairs.’

At least three of the children instantly pushed through the adults to find him, Sam straight on their heels. I took a couple of tentative steps to follow them, but the man who’d initially found me in the kitchen moved to block my way. ‘I don’t think so!’ He looked me up and down. ‘You can wait here.’

I glanced at my dishevelled jeans and top, covered in smears of dirt and bits of undergrowth. Reaching up to my hair, a tentative hand came away clutching a handful of twigs and a dead spider. I was sweaty from the chase, and burning with shame. When Joan appeared a moment later, her T-shirt sporting a giant rip, mud encrusting one cheek and wearing only one trainer, I didn’t suppose it helped my credibility.

‘Hey,’ I whispered, holding out a hand. She crept in and took it, eyes round with questions.

‘He ran upstairs, so some of the people here have gone to fetch him,’ I murmured. ‘It’s okay, one of them is Sam, who helped me move the bed.’

She nodded, face pinched with worry.

After an excruciating couple of minutes, where the only sound was various people huffing in indignation, Sam and the children returned, Nesbit firmly grasped in Sam’s hands. The collies hadn’t moved since he left the room.

‘Here we go.’ He handed me a very contented-looking dog. ‘I’ll need to change some bedding, but apart from that, no harm done.’

‘No harm done!’ Sam’s dad retorted. ‘That organic chicken cost your mother a fortune. Not to mention I’m bloody hungry. This woman’s ruined Tom’s birthday dinner! I said if we held it here it’d end in disaster! Bloody typical, Sam, well done.’

‘Darling, it’s fine.’ An older woman, who I assumed was his wife, placed a soothing hand on his arm. ‘We can rustle up something else. Look at all these gorgeous side dishes. If the worst comes to the worst, some of us can run to the shops.’

‘Well, it’s not really fine,’ a third man interjected. He looked remarkedly similar to Man Number One, other than the colour of his linen shirt. ‘Who knows which of these bowls that mutt slobbered on. And why should the kids have to wait while someone drives to that poky supermarket in Bigley and picks up whatever they’ve got leftover on a Saturday night? You know I don’t eat meat that’s not high welfare. I’d rather go home and make something myself.’

Joan shrank closer into my side.

‘Um. I have some organic mince I could bring over, if that’s any help?’ I ventured.

‘Um, why are you still here?’ Sam’s dad snapped.

‘Dad,’ Sam said, moving to stand in front of me. ‘Thanks, Ollie, but we’ll sort it. It was stupid of me to leave the food unattended with the doors open. Anything could have snuck in and helped itself.’

‘Too bloody right!’ his dad scoffed.

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, don’t be making excuses for her!’ the first man said. ‘You should be able to leave your kitchen for five minutes without risk of a mongrel stealing your meal.’

‘Nesbit’s not a mongrel, he’s a cocker spaniel!’ Joan blurted.

‘It’s unfathomable why people who can’t control their dogs don’t keep them on a lead,’ one of the other women added, ignoring Joan. ‘If he’d got in with the livestock, we’re legally entitled to have shot him.’

‘If there’s an animal trespassing in your home, I’m pretty sure you’re entitled to shoot them.’

‘Perhaps we could have roast dog to replace the chicken,’ an older teenager droned, not bothering to look up from her phone.

It was definitely time to leave.

‘Again, I am so sincerely sorry,’ I garbled, backing out onto the porch, still carrying Nesbit. ‘He was on a lead, but took us by surprise and escaped our grip. If there’s anything I can do, anything at all, please just say. I’m a pretty good cook… or I could do the washing up… once I’ve taken Joan and Nesbit home.’

‘For goodness’ sake, just go!’ Sam’s dad roared.

We didn’t need telling again.

By the time we’d found our way back home, the air was cool and twilight hung over the treetops. Nesbit happily scampered through the back gate and over to my door, waiting to be let in.

‘Will your mum be worried?’ I asked Joan, pausing to say goodnight.

‘Nah. I messaged her that I’d broken into a strange man’s house in the middle of the woods, stolen his chicken and gatecrashed a birthday party, so not to expect me home until late.’

I blew out a long sigh.

‘Too soon for jokes?’

‘Waaaaay too soon. Try me again after I’ve spent the night replaying the horror over and over a squillion times, and failing to sleep a wink due to drowning in my own shame.’

‘It was just a chicken!’

‘Yeah.’

It was just me, trying to survive out here in the big wide world alone, handling adult responsibilities and navigating each day without starting wars with librarians, annoying my neighbours or ruining birthday parties.

Sunday, I left the Dream List well alone.





9





Thanks to now being a dog owner, I couldn’t, however, spend the day hiding under my duvet as hoped. Nesbit allowed me the luxury of a seven a.m. Sunday lie-in before sniffing me awake. A strong coffee, a red and blue sticker and a very cute gambol around the garden later, I was ready to start working on my atonement. I spent the latter half of the morning in the farm shop at Hatherstone Hall, where Leanne worked on Saturdays, and most of the afternoon chopping, mixing, baking and roasting.

I then showered and changed into my most respectable-yet-flattering summer dress, because despite the No-Man Mandate, I still couldn’t help wanting Sam to think well of me. I twisted my red hair into a bun and did my best to apply some natural-look make-up. I then spent quite a while online trying to figure out how to get to Sam’s house via car. Once I was reasonably convinced I’d sussed it, I loaded up and went to see if I could earn my redemption.

Only a handful of wrong turns later, I reached the end of a single-lane track, opened a wide wooden gate and pulled up onto a circular gravel driveway on the opposite side of Sam’s house to where I’d approached from the day before.

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