Of course, what would happen after that was a whole different story that I would try not to panic about until I needed to.
We agreed that forcing Joan to wait longer than necessary was going to drive us both bananas. Sam and I could switch some work things around and make time for a hare-brained trip the day after next, which was a Thursday.
‘Are you going to stay and watch Another Dog’s Adventure?’ Joan asked Sam, once we’d told her the decision. This was a big step forwards from her instinctive suspicions a few days ago.
‘Do you know what, if Ollie doesn’t mind, I might just do that. I loved the first one.’
‘A fan of Dog Adventures?’ I asked, not bothering to hide my amusement.
‘Obviously. What kind of monster wouldn’t be?’ Sam replied.
‘Urgh, will you two stop flirting so we can watch the film!’
We certainly could. I did need to stick my head in the fridge on the pretence of searching for snacks first, however.
It was hard to put my finger on how it felt, curled up on the sofa, Joan snuggled under a blanket, her head resting in the crook of my arm while Nesbit snoozed on my feet. Sam was sprawled sideways in the armchair, one leg dangling over an arm as the flickering screen lit up his face. Was it contentment? Too gentle perhaps for joy. And then I realised, as the doggy brothers made their way across the wilderness in search of their beloved owners.
This felt like I was home.
25
One of the reasons that I wanted to wait until Thursday before travelling to Chester was the inaugural meeting of the Wednesday Business Builders. Yasmin, Trev and Jaxx had booked a table at the library from twelve until two. They’d put a poster up on the library noticeboard, and Jaxx had gone all out on social media, promising a one-to-one networking opportunity with the man who’d introduced Nomato to the UK.
Irene had capped the numbers at ten, on the basis that any more would be disruptive (no one mentioned the twenty-plus children now squeezing in to hear the Library Lady every Friday afternoon).
While I had no intention of building a business, Yasmin had asked me to be around in case there were any questions about training or qualifications, and more importantly because I seemed to be able to keep Irene under control. I did point out that Jaxx was far better than me at handling the library manager, but he intended to be far too busy networking for that.
By twelve twenty, the Wednesday Business Builders had gone through the ground rules and the purpose of the group, asked if anyone had any specific topics they wanted to cover or ideas for guest speakers. None of this took very long, because the three business builders in attendance had all discussed it at length before starting the group.
They then briefly introduced themselves, and their new businesses. This again didn’t take long, especially as one of the three was still waiting for his burst of inspiration and quite happy working part-time as a pot-washer.
At twelve thirty, just as Yasmin had started working through the individual personality quirks of each of Mr Howard’s dogs, a woman arrived. Carrying a large rucksack, she was probably in her fifties, with grey hair and a dress that looked like a blanket bunched at the waist with a dressing-gown cord.
‘Is this the Business Builders group?’ she asked, after asking Irene where we were and receiving a cross between a sniff and a snort in return.
‘It is!’ Yasmin said, forcefully enough to sound slightly threatening. ‘Take a seat. Trev will make you a drink. Would you like a piece of flapjack? No charge!’
‘Um… I’ll just have water, thank you. And no flapjack. I’m a fruitarian.’
‘Excuse me please?’ Yasmin asked, blinking.
‘Does that mean you only eat fruit?’ Jaxx asked.
‘Of course not!’ the woman replied, flicking her bottom-length plait over her shoulder. ‘That would be far too restrictive. I eat seeds and all types of nut.’
‘Well, seeds are in fruit, so…’ Yasmin said.
‘Did you know that tomatoes are a fruit?’ Jaxx asked.
‘Yes, I eat tomatoes.’
‘So.’ His eyes gleamed like a tiger moving in on its prey. ‘How about a tomato substitute? Cheaper, healthier, better for the environment… contains virtually no meat or fish products.’
The woman reeled back in disgust. ‘No. Definitely not.’
‘It’s ninety-one per cent natural.’ Jaxx sounded like someone tempting a baby to eat their mushed carrot.
‘Welcome to the group,’ Trev interjected. ‘This is Yasmin, Jaxx, Ollie and I’m Trev. Do have a seat.’
‘Thank you but I brought my own. I’m plastic-free.’ The woman unhooked from her rucksack a tiny folding stool, constructed of wood and rough material that I suspected she’d woven herself. Mum would have choked on her coffee at the terrible craftsmanship, but I supposed it was aiming for function over form.
‘Oh, and I’m Kate.’
‘Really?’ Jaxx looked disappointed. I think he’d been expecting a name like Aurora or Rainbow.
Kate peered at him. ‘Have we met before?’
Jaxx squinted back. ‘Are you Tyler’s mum?’
‘Jack Watson?’
Jack turned a startling shade of scarlet. ‘It’s Jaxx, now.’
‘Why?’
‘Um… well… it’s branding, innit…’
‘Tyler just graduated from Bristol University with a second-class honours degree in engineering. He has an internship lined up with Siemens.’
‘Only a second?’ Jaxx asked, his composure recovered.
‘Would you like to tell us about your business idea?’ I asked, moving things along.
‘I design and produce handcrafted, home-sourced, biodegradable fruitarian-friendly products.’
It was possibly a good thing that before anyone had a chance to respond, more potential Business Builders burst through the library door. For a second I think all of us had to check our eyes weren’t playing tricks on us, as three completely identical young men walked in perfect sync over to the table, as though striding onstage ready for a big number.
They were wearing white satin shorts (the emphasis here on short), bright blue running tops and matching blue socks pulled to mid-calf. Each of them had black hair, shaved at the sides and sticking straight up on top like a shoe brush. They also had a large blue tattoo of the letter K on their scrawny upper arms. Which didn’t strike me as problematic until they reached the table and stood sideways on in a tight line, so that their arms were nearly touching, tattoos facing out. I mean, perhaps young people weren’t as aware of the connotations of those letters together. But, well, in that case somebody needed to tell them…
‘Hiiii!’ they sang in unison.
Everyone offered a slightly perturbed welcome, and Trev fetched three cappuccinos with extra chocolate sprinkles, his eyes unable to stray from those arms.
‘Would you like to introduce yourselves and your business idea to the group?’ Yasmin asked, her voice strained.
‘Of course!’ one of them replied. ‘We’re Kyle, Kyron and Kylo.’ He pointed to each one in turn, to show us which was which. Not that we would have any chance of keeping track if they happened to swap positions.