Never Too Late (12 page)

“Hello, I’m Margaret and this is my friend, Angela,” she introduced them.

“Yes, we’ve met before haven’t we Angela, good to see you again.” The two women shook hands. “How’s young Simba coming along?”

“Really well thanks Liz. I’ve brought my friend Margaret to meet you as she needs a dog as much as one of your dogs needs a loving permanent home.”

Angela knew Iain’s rule about Maggie’s name and stuck to it when she remembered, just to keep the peace in the McTavish household. Maggie, though, suddenly felt an unexpected bubble of rebellion. Iain was rarely about and why should her own friends not know her as Maggie? By slow degrees she’d managed the shift with people she knew and Iain didn’t. Well, Iain was hardly likely to meet Liz, that was for sure.

“Please,” Maggie said, shaking Liz’s hand, “call me Maggie.”

Angela smiled her approval.

“Maggie, this is the Liz I told you about who taught us humans how to behave at the dog training classes at the community centre.” She turned to Liz. “Simba and I still practise the exercises you gave us, Liz. It’s really helped both of us to become good citizens.”

Liz beamed at them. “Good to hear it – reinforcement is the key.”

“Liz is the manager of this centre,” Angela told Maggie. “She’s the best person I know to help you decide on the best dog for you.”

“Hey,” protested Maggie, “I haven’t definitely decided to have a dog yet.”

“And we haven’t definitely decided whether you can have one of our dogs,” Liz retorted with some asperity.

“I beg your pardon?”

Liz’s eyes twinkled as she explained that any prospective owner first had to have a home visit to ensure it was a fit and safe place for a dog to live, at which time they would be interviewed to ensure personal suitability. This would then be followed with one or more sessions with the dog in question to ensure compatibility. “We don’t want our dogs to regain health and self-confidence here only to have to rescue them all over again, now do we?”

“No, of course not,” Maggie agreed, feeling rather flustered. She’d never imagined finding herself under the spotlight like that, having questions asked of her about whether she was capable of looking after a dog.

“It is a big commitment,” Liz continued. “A healthy dog should live well into its teens so you have to think in the same kind of terms as if you were having a child.”

“Absolutely,” Maggie agreed weakly.

“So,” Liz continued, “do you want an appointment for a home visit?”

Angela decided to try and bolster her friend’s commitment a little. “Before we do that,” she asked of Liz, “do you think we could possibly have a look at the dogs you have in at the moment?”

Liz paused and considered the request. “It’s not normal procedure, it unsettles the dogs to have too many strangers about the place, but as I know you and Simba I’ll agree to it this time.”

She led them round the corner of the building to a locked gate that led to the kennels. There was a large concrete rectangular courtyard, surrounded on three sides with kennels and on the fourth side with sheds for stores, a feed room with bowls stacked high on the shelves, and another room with an industrial sized dishwasher, washing machine and tumble dryer.

“The field and wood beyond are ours too,” Liz told them. “When the dogs are ready the volunteers like to exercise them down there – a bit quieter and a change of scenery, if nothing else.”

It was, indeed fairly noisy here with so many dogs barking for attention, having heard the gate being opened.

Each of the kennels was set up so that there was a secure indoor sleeping area and small run, and a door leading onto the central exercise area. In most of them there was a plastic bed with a big blanket and a water bowl, occupied by some of the most adorable dogs Maggie had ever seen. They begged for her attention, some just with their eyes, some with their whole bodies wriggling in delight to see someone, tails tattooing a rhythm on the walls or floor. There were large dogs and small dogs and in between dogs, pure bred and mongrels, young and old. And there were was one who seemed to have given up on life. Maggie stopped dead in front of his kennel, her heart going out to the big German Shepherd.

He lay curled in the far corner of the kennel ignoring the noise and excitement around him. His handsome dark head, with its defining buff markings looking like eyebrows, rested on his paws, and he just stared at the ground.

“Oh, he’s a fine looking boy,” Maggie breathed, “but so sad.”

“Yes, he’s worrying us rather at the moment,” Liz told them. “He’s not eating much or exercising or taking any interest in the people or dogs around him. He’s been in for four weeks now and doesn’t seem to be making any progress.”

“How did he come to be here?” Angela asked.

“Car crash,” Liz told them. “Head on into a tree. His owner was killed and Deefor survived it as he was in the back. One of the problems is he’s seven years old which means he was very firmly attached to his owner, his pack leader. It also means he’s an older dog than most people want, so he could be here for quite a while.”

She watched Maggie closely. It was love at first sight, on one side at least, if ever she’d seen it. “You know, Maggie,” she continued, “you might be able to help us with him.”

For the first time since seeing Deefor Maggie’s eyes looked away from him. “How?” she almost begged. “I’d love to – what can I do? Can I adopt him?”

“Whoah!” Liz laughed. “He’s got a long way to go before I’ll be happy to see him leave here. I’ve got to ensure he’s eating well first, and if necessary I’ll get psychiatric help for him.”

“Psychiatric help? For a dog?” Both Angela and Maggie were amazed at this.

“Oh yes,” Liz assured them. “If that’s what it takes to get one of our dogs back on track then that’s what we’ll do.”

“So how can I help?” Maggie wanted to know.

“As you can probably guess, our funding is pitiful,” Liz told them. “We couldn’t survive without our volunteers and fundraisers. What I had in mind was you, Maggie, coming in to try and persuade Deefor to take some exercise, but just as important to spend some time with him, try and persuade him that life is still worth living. If we can avoid the expense of a psychiatrist then you’ll have helped a lot.”

Maggie was none too sure about her ability to get through to this troubled dog, but she certainly wanted to try.

“When can I start?”

“I need a firm commitment from you,” Liz warned her. “Dogs can tell the time and I find it’s best if the volunteer sticks to the same time. In Deefor’s case I think it needs every single day, without fail, if we’re to get through to him.”

Maggie nodded. “I have no other ties to interfere. Shall we say 8am each day until he’s rehomed? I hope that’s not too early but the days seem to get away from me and I do want to prove myself reliable.”

Liz shook her hand warmly. “It’s a deal. I knew you’d taken to him.”

“I have just one question,” Maggie continued. “Do you know how he came to have such an unusual name?”

“Lack of imagination, my dear,” Liz chuckled. “Deefor Dog.”

It took a moment before the penny dropped. “Oh, the poor boy!”

“Too late to change it now,” Liz told them as she ushered them out. “Deefor he was named seven years ago and that’s the name he’ll go to the grave with.”

Liz waved them off and they drove in silence for a while, Maggie’s thoughts still with Deefor.

“Glad we went?” Angela asked her.

“Oh yes,” was the dreamy response. “He’s gorgeous isn’t he. Don’t you just want to love that sadness right out of him?”

“Well I’m positive you can do it,” Angela asserted. “And when you adopt him – note I’m saying when, not if – I’ll pay the adoption fee for your birthday present.”

“Do you think they’ll let me?” Maggie’s voice was excited. “Do you really think I can help him?”

Angela patted her hand. “Positive!”

“That will be the most wonderful birthday gift I’ve had in years! Thank you.”

As she climbed out of the car Angela called, “Have you got your story ready for Iain?”

“Oh, I’ve a few days to work on that one,” Maggie replied, with a degree of relief. “He’s away on business again.”

Angela was pretty sure what at least half of these business trips were all about and silently fumed on her friend’s behalf.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

May

Incredibly the weather was still holding fine and the three friends entering The Three Bells for a long Friday lunch were all praying it would do so for just two more weeks, just long enough for Maggie’s party. They opted for the large patio that was tiered down towards the Thames and sat scanning the menus while the swans glided past through the overhanging willows. A few mallards waited on the grassy bank, hoping for the odd breadcrumb to be thrown their way. It was intoxicating, relaxing in the warm sunshine in such idyllic surroundings, the week’s work all but done, a cool lager already on the table and the promise of good food to come. The tables were filling rapidly with other office workers wanting to enjoy the day in the same way.

James offered to go and order for them. “Come on, you two – decision time before the queue gets too long,” he chivvied them. “You know, looking at you two anyone would think it was you who were brother and sister. You’re dithering about the food in the same way too.”

Adam and Chloe looked at each other and laughed. “We’re just having a blonde moment together,” he quipped.

“Hey,” Chloe protested. “Lay off the blonde jokes or I’m leaving. And I’m the only one who knows what’s what with the party plans.”

“I’ll have the cheddar ploughman’s.” They spoke together and that led to more laughter as James went back inside to the bar.

Adam felt tongue-tied when they were alone and cursed himself for a fool. He was a ready wit with other women and was never short of a willing companion on his nights out. In company he could keep them all laughing, Chloe included. But when it was just the two of them – well, his brain and tongue lost connection and he was sure he always managed to look a complete dolt. Right from childhood she had been special. Now she was stunning and he couldn’t think of a thing to say.

“Thanks for sorting out the booking with the group,” Chloe smiled at him. “I just know Swing Low will be perfect for the party.” Her dimple appeared and his heart did a flip. “I hope it didn’t take too big a bank of called in favours to get them to agree.”

“No problem.” Jeez, what a banal thing to say. He took a swig of his pint and half missed his mouth, lager splashing over his lap onto his fawn slacks. Chloe whooped with laughter and grabbed some serviettes to dry him down. He immediately reacted to where she was dabbing him dry though and quickly took over that particular duty, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“OK, OK, let the court jester take over,” he pleaded.

Their hands rested on each other for a moment and Adam couldn’t stop the slow flush creeping up his neck. Chloe’s eyes held an expression he couldn’t quite fathom as she moved away again.

“I know Margaret enjoyed their music last Christmas, so at least that’s one thing we’ve got right for her,” he stuttered into the awkward silence.

James returned and sat down opposite them. “About 10 minutes they said.”

“Fine,” Chloe said. “While you were gone Adam was just implying that the only thing that will go right with the party is the music. Isn’t that right Adam?”

“That’s not what I said at all!” he spluttered, then noticed the mischief dancing in the vivid azure of Chloe’s eyes.

“Got you!” she giggled.

“Yeah, that’s right, pick on the soft target who falls for them all.”

“I hope Adam doesn’t prove to be correct, Chloe,” James added as he lifted his pint. “Have you got everything else sorted?”

“I’m a woman,” she stressed. “Of course I have it arranged, marquee booked, flowers and decorations booked, catering and staff booked, all to my very high standards, all to my full satisfaction.”

“Yes, you’re a woman and my sister which is why I feel the need to check.”

Chloe punched James’ arm and he grasped her wrists, both laughing. She wasn’t about to admit it had all been ordered with one phone call as a very convenient package. “I must admit, I didn’t have much of an example set with our mother’s organisational skills – or lack of them.”

“Will you quit these constant jibes at Mum?” James demanded. “I admit we were occasionally a bit late, and she always worked off endless lists, but she always got us where we needed to be, with the things we needed while we were there.”

“True,” Chloe admitted. “But I was never convinced until she turned up that she’d remember to collect us.”

“You know fine well she never forgot us – she just got delayed sometimes.”

“And lost sometimes!”

“What about invitations?” James queried, refusing to continue that particular topic. “Do we have a guest list?”

“That’s a problem,” Chloe admitted. “I haven’t a clue who she’d want there, apart from Daddy and your family, Adam.”

Family would certainly be very thin on the ground. Their father hadn’t been on speaking terms with the Scottish side of the family since he married their mother. A child conceived before wedlock had not seemed sufficient reason to James and Chloe for such an irrevocable split, but they had never been able to glean any information from either of their parents about the real cause. As their maternal grandparents were in Canada with their uncle, their parents were all they had here in England.

What an opportunity,
Adam suddenly realised. “Mum would know.” He looked at Chloe. “How about we all pop down and have a chat with her? We’re not at work on Monday with it being a Bank Holiday so we could go then without upsetting any social plans of a certain gad about I know,” he teased her. “Or if, for once, you’re free, we could go Sunday and stay over. Take a picnic to Box Hill or something.”

“Count me out of that one,” James said. “I’ve got plenty of other things to arrange before the party, and I would like some time to take Keela out too. You two could go, though.”