The Girlfriend

Cherry tried to keep her anger buttoned down, but it was hard when she saw puppies and kittens desperate to get out, their soft paws clambering over one another, trying to get a grip on the glass sides of their box as she walked past, eager for her attention. They’d probably been bought from farms, poor things, been taken straight from their mothers and dumped in this pet shop. She knelt down by one of the cages of kittens. Smiled at the soft balls of fur who wanted to get to her, would probably purr deafeningly from human contact if she picked one up. These were the unlucky ones; their lives were determined by the fortunes of their birth. No nurturing start in life from a reputable breeder, and likely a questionable home when – if – they were bought by someone. What kind of future did they have? It was always the same in life: it was all about where you were born, and to whom.

She gazed at the kittens, all five of them, but it was too many to deal with, and anyway, Daniel preferred dogs. The puppies were fewer, just two left from a litter of three. They were cocker spaniels. Same as Laura had had when she was young, she remembered. Light-brown, almost golden fur. The male had a white patch on his tummy. She indicated to the man who ran the place, who was feeding some fish.

‘They ever get walked?’

‘Every day,’ he said brightly, automatically.

She thought about challenging him – it was obvious he was lying – but it probably wouldn’t change things.

‘I’ll take the boy,’ she said, and he placed the puppy carefully in a pet carry box, with holes punched in the side. He produced a birth certificate and medical documents, which she took with the same apathy as he gave them.

‘You want a lead?’

She glanced up at a rack behind the till. ‘Yes, please.’

As she walked out of the shop, she looked back at the remaining puppy. She was standing still, watching silently, and Cherry suddenly felt a pang of guilt. The poor thing never saw daylight, and had no space to run around. She probably didn’t have any care or comfort at all beyond what was necessary to keep her as a commodity, something to make money from. And Cherry had just taken her brother. She hesitated. Maybe there was a way to end her misery in this place.

‘I’ll take the other one as well,’ she said.

The puppy wagged her tail as she was also lifted out of the pen. Cherry got out her purse again.

‘Another lead?’ asked the man.

‘No . . . it’s OK,’ said Cherry. ‘But I will have one of those small boxes of hamster food.’

She drove to Richmond Park, the carry box of puppies on the front seat. Once parked, she picked it up, along with the plastic bag containing the lead and the hamster food. The two little soft, wriggling bundles tried to lick her hands through the holes in the cardboard box. She pulled her coat tight and walked through the park, one of the few places in London where you could actually get away from people. Ahead, she saw a copse of conifers; she made her way towards them, and as she ducked under, the sounds of the open space shrank away. She was hidden and alone.

Kneeling on the soft earth, she opened the box; the two puppies were delighted to see her. She scratched them under the chin. The sound of brakes rasping to a stop made her look up and she stiffened as a kid came close by on his bike. She watched through the trees as he spun his pedals, looking at the chain, then after a few seconds, rode off. She waited until it was quiet, the puppies licking her hand, then took the girl out of the box. It would’ve been cruel to leave her, she told herself, and she could at least make it quick. Putting both her hands round the animal’s neck, she twisted sharply. It went limp. She took the box of hamster food and emptied it onto the ground, then placed the unmoving puppy inside. Then she got out her phone and dialled.

‘Hello. I’m calling to report a cruelty . . . Some kittens. It’s a pet shop that I’ve just been in. They seemed really distressed, thin. And I saw the guy who worked there. He . . . God, it was awful . . . He just threw one back into the glass cage. From a distance, as if it was a ball. Lobbed it. He thought I was on the other side of the shop, looking around . . . No, I didn’t buy any . . . Yes, it’s Pet’s Kingdom in Worcester Park . . . My name? It’s Polly Hammond.’ She gave a false phone number and continued, even more desperately now, ‘You will go there, won’t you? That’s what the RSPCA do? I’m sure they’re from farms. Can’t you close places like this down?’

She checked her watch. Daniel would be home in two hours. Just enough time to go to the post office then get back to ice the cake. She clipped the lead onto the other puppy, who was delighted that he was getting a walk outdoors, probably the first since he’d been born. She watched as his paws bounded through the grass – real grass! – and her heart warmed at his obvious euphoria. Then a sudden sharp intake of breath. She hadn’t bought one of those ball-throwing things! How utterly thoughtless. Dismayed, Cherry apologized to . . . Rufus, she would call him Rufus, and vowed to make it up to him as soon as she got to some shops.

‘This is delicious,’ said Daniel, again, as he took a large bite out of his second slice of cake.

Cherry leaned over the back of his chair, kissed him on the cheek. ‘You’re sure it’s not the beer making it taste good?’

‘No way. Will and Jonny say hello, by the way.’

‘Hello back.’

‘He’s – Will’s – waiting to hear on an interview. Big promotion if he gets it.’

‘So you guys had a good time?’

‘Great.’ Daniel was suddenly conscious it was one of his rare days off. ‘You didn’t mind me going off with the guys, did you?’

‘Course not. I’ve been very busy . . .’

‘Oh yes?’ He grabbed her, pulled her onto his lap and planted a chocolate-tasting kiss on her lips. ‘Doing what? Other than acquiring our new friend here.’ He reached down to pick up the puppy, who immediately tried to lick his face.

‘Rufus! Naughty!’ Cherry took him away. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘No, I told you – he’s great. You do know that with me at the hospital, you’re the one more likely to be cleaning up the wees on the floor?’

‘I’m going to have him expertly trained in no time.’ She put her arms around Daniel’s neck. ‘And in answer to your question, I’ve been planning a very special day.’

‘Aha. And do I get a say on this very special day?’

‘Of course. As long as you think it should be in January.’ She held her breath a moment as she watched him mull it over.

‘Bit cold?’

‘Honeymoon in the Caribbean?’

He nodded: good point.

‘Very soon? It’s only – what, three months away?’

‘Do you really want me talking weddings any longer? I could make it stretch a year if you prefer.’

He laughed. ‘No, thanks.’

She was pleased to have got her way. ‘I’ve also found a venue. If you like it, we can start sending out invitations.’

‘Yes.’ He sounded wistful.

‘What’s up?’

‘Oh, you know, parents getting divorced. The whole thing with Mum . . . I haven’t even told her we’re engaged yet.’

‘Maybe we should just run away,’ she said lightly, ‘get married on a beach somewhere.’

‘It would save a lot of hassle. Quick, easy, just us two.’

She caught her breath. She hadn’t thought for a moment he’d take it seriously, but actually it was a brilliant idea. ‘You know, I think you can organize them in as little as a couple of weeks.’

‘Really? It sounds great.’

‘Could you get the time off work?’

He laughed. ‘You’re serious.’

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