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Authors: Fiona Walker
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gazing at Gretel, 1990–2006. ‘This little dachshund was Constance’s closest ally after she was widowed and left here alone.’ An exquisite miniature doghad been immortalized in pure white marble. ‘Daphne is Gretel’s last surviving daughter, now almost twenty – the last of her line. She refused to get off the bed in the final hours Constance lived. She even bit the doctor. Her head was under Constance’s hand when she died.’
Dawn was unmoved. ‘Exactly how many animals do you look after here? I’m talking the ones that have a pulse.’
‘Twenty-nine if you include chickens, geese and Trevor the peacock.’
‘Christ.’ As far as Dawn was aware Kat had only ever owned one pet (Sooty, 1986–9: a guinea pig that had met an undignified end under the lawnmower). ‘I knew you always wanted a dog, but I had no idea you’d become Watford’s answer to Brigitte Bardot,’ she muttered, looking at the little headstones. ‘It’s like
Whistle Downthe
bloody
Wind
here.’
Kat’s eyes sparkled, the same vivid green as the moss on the wet tree trunks around them. ‘This is my dream gig, Dawn. I mean, how beautiful is this place? Like you say, I’ve always longed to have a dog and now I have five.’
Dawn prepared to step on a conversational landmine. ‘Didn’t Nick offer to take you to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home and get a dog once?’
The eyes went dull. ‘That was only when things got really bad between us, and he said it had to live outside the house in a kennel. I couldn’t bear that. I didn’t think it was fair.’
Dawn wondered if there was a huge difference between that and a man who forced his dog to be vegetarian, but she said nothing. Instead, she forged on through the minefield: ‘I never knew how bad thingshad got with Nick, Kat. I’m so sorry. If I’d known I’d have —’
‘It’s forgotten,’ she said firmly, turning to look at the rain-pocked lake, her wet hair deepest scarlet, lashes starred with drops. She put an arm around her friend. ‘I’m just grateful you’ve forgiven me for running off like that.’
‘What’s to bloody forgive? I followed my leader. And I can’t tell you how good it feelsto be free.’
They shared a tight hug, hammered by raindrops.
There was a loud splash from the lake. Kat groaned. ‘Oh, shit. Not again.’ She belted off, leaving Dawn none the wiser.
Trailing behind, Dawn saw a huge black beast silhouetted in the lake, with devil’s horns and glinting eyes. She screamed. With a bellow, the beast tossed its head and sent up arcs of spray.
‘Ssh! Try not to frighten her,’ whispered Kat, creeping towards the bulrushes with a bucket. ‘She’s very sensitive to noise.’
‘So am I,’ Dawn squeaked, hiding behind a tree as the beast bellowed again.
Rattling a soggy bucket of nuts at Usha, Kat edged towards the rowing boat that was lying on its side nearby. She was white with fear, Dawn noticed, her teeth gritted determinedly.
‘I had to row out to get her back earlier,’ she explained in a high voice, betraying how great her terror of open water still was.
Dawn wasn’t sure Kat should float to the rescue again, especially now that their conversation had brought so many memories into high relief; nor was she keen to take the oars herself. But this time, for reasons only an ageing and increasingly forgetfulwater buffalo could understand, Usha waded out of the lake of her own accord, following Kat with docile good manners back to her enclosure.
‘OMG, you’re amazing!’ Dawn followed at a safe distance, incredibly impressed. ‘That is like something out of
Crocodile Dundee
. You should star in your own reality-show documentary.’
‘Hardly. It’s basic bribery.’
‘So if I bribe you tocome back to Watford, will you?’
‘No chance. If I bribe you, will you come and live here?’
‘Only if the buffalo goes, you get under-floor heating and Dair Armitage turns out to be the man of my dreams.’
‘We’d better make the
Dawn was unmoved. ‘Exactly how many animals do you look after here? I’m talking the ones that have a pulse.’
‘Twenty-nine if you include chickens, geese and Trevor the peacock.’
‘Christ.’ As far as Dawn was aware Kat had only ever owned one pet (Sooty, 1986–9: a guinea pig that had met an undignified end under the lawnmower). ‘I knew you always wanted a dog, but I had no idea you’d become Watford’s answer to Brigitte Bardot,’ she muttered, looking at the little headstones. ‘It’s like
Whistle Downthe
bloody
Wind
here.’
Kat’s eyes sparkled, the same vivid green as the moss on the wet tree trunks around them. ‘This is my dream gig, Dawn. I mean, how beautiful is this place? Like you say, I’ve always longed to have a dog and now I have five.’
Dawn prepared to step on a conversational landmine. ‘Didn’t Nick offer to take you to Battersea Dogs and Cats Home and get a dog once?’
The eyes went dull. ‘That was only when things got really bad between us, and he said it had to live outside the house in a kennel. I couldn’t bear that. I didn’t think it was fair.’
Dawn wondered if there was a huge difference between that and a man who forced his dog to be vegetarian, but she said nothing. Instead, she forged on through the minefield: ‘I never knew how bad thingshad got with Nick, Kat. I’m so sorry. If I’d known I’d have —’
‘It’s forgotten,’ she said firmly, turning to look at the rain-pocked lake, her wet hair deepest scarlet, lashes starred with drops. She put an arm around her friend. ‘I’m just grateful you’ve forgiven me for running off like that.’
‘What’s to bloody forgive? I followed my leader. And I can’t tell you how good it feelsto be free.’
They shared a tight hug, hammered by raindrops.
There was a loud splash from the lake. Kat groaned. ‘Oh, shit. Not again.’ She belted off, leaving Dawn none the wiser.
Trailing behind, Dawn saw a huge black beast silhouetted in the lake, with devil’s horns and glinting eyes. She screamed. With a bellow, the beast tossed its head and sent up arcs of spray.
‘Ssh! Try not to frighten her,’ whispered Kat, creeping towards the bulrushes with a bucket. ‘She’s very sensitive to noise.’
‘So am I,’ Dawn squeaked, hiding behind a tree as the beast bellowed again.
Rattling a soggy bucket of nuts at Usha, Kat edged towards the rowing boat that was lying on its side nearby. She was white with fear, Dawn noticed, her teeth gritted determinedly.
‘I had to row out to get her back earlier,’ she explained in a high voice, betraying how great her terror of open water still was.
Dawn wasn’t sure Kat should float to the rescue again, especially now that their conversation had brought so many memories into high relief; nor was she keen to take the oars herself. But this time, for reasons only an ageing and increasingly forgetfulwater buffalo could understand, Usha waded out of the lake of her own accord, following Kat with docile good manners back to her enclosure.
‘OMG, you’re amazing!’ Dawn followed at a safe distance, incredibly impressed. ‘That is like something out of
Crocodile Dundee
. You should star in your own reality-show documentary.’
‘Hardly. It’s basic bribery.’
‘So if I bribe you tocome back to Watford, will you?’
‘No chance. If I bribe you, will you come and live here?’
‘Only if the buffalo goes, you get under-floor heating and Dair Armitage turns out to be the man of my dreams.’
‘We’d better make the
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