The First Mistake(40)

‘Yes,’ he said sheepishly. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

‘Of course not,’ I exclaimed. ‘That’s really sweet of you.’

‘No one’s called yet, but I’m hopeful. I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, kissing him.

‘Are you okay if I go to this meeting? I was able to put it off for a few hours, but I could really do with getting it done today, if you don’t mind.’

I was astonished he even felt the need to ask. ‘Of course, you should go.’

‘But I’ll be back tonight, if that’s all right, and I’ll leave you my phone, just in case anyone calls about Tyson.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘Take your phone with you.’

‘No,’ he said adamantly. ‘I won’t be able to answer the call if it comes in. We can’t take the risk of missing it.’

‘But—’

‘Take it,’ he said as he put his jacket on and handed me the phone. ‘I’ll be a couple of hours. Feel free to answer any call that comes in.’

It felt very odd to have someone else’s phone in my possession, especially one that belonged to a man I was seeing so casually, yet knew so intimately.

I held the phone in front of me as I walked around the park, calling for Tyson, and showing anybody I encountered a photo of him. I could almost feel my eyeballs burning the screen every time I looked at it, willing it to light up. When it did, just as I reached the gate, where another poster had been attached, I couldn’t answer it quickly enough.

‘Hello,’ I said gingerly.

‘Oh, hi,’ said a male voice. ‘I’m calling about the dog.’

My heart soared, making me feel as if it might lift me off the ground. Yet the very real possibility of being told that something had happened to him quickly followed. ‘Yes?’ I said, urging the man on, my chest a mangle of emotions.

‘Is there a reward?’ he asked, stopping me in my tracks.

‘Er, I . . . I don’t know,’ I stuttered.

‘Well, is there or not?’

‘Does it matter?’ I said, suddenly indignant. ‘Have you any information or not?’

‘Well, it all depends on how much the reward is.’

I took the phone away from my ear and stared at it aghast, horrified that the safe return of my beloved dog was reliant on how much I paid. Wasn’t this akin to kidnapping and demanding a ransom?

My head wrestled in vain to win the tug of war with my heart. It was a poorly fought battle.

‘A thousand pounds,’ I said, suddenly aware of how much I wanted Tyson back. The ache was so profound that I would pay five times more. I wonder if he heard it in my voice.

‘Whoa,’ the voice said. ‘You really like this dog, huh?’ I stayed silent whilst he conducted a muffled conversation at his end. ‘We’ll think about it and let you know tomorrow.’

The call abruptly ended as I cried, ‘I’ll give you five thousand!’ into the dead air.





17


My sleep was interspersed with vivid sightings of Tyson. He was around every corner, running through every meadow. I could hear myself laughing as he bounded towards me, my arms outstretched ready to embrace him, but as he leapt up into them, a car came from nowhere and mowed him down. My own screaming woke me up.

‘Ssh, it’s okay, it’s just a bad dream,’ whispered Thomas as he wrapped his strong arms around me. My heart was racing, and my breathing came in short sharp pants as I struggled to get myself back around the right way.

‘It’s okay,’ he repeated over and over, and for a few moments I believed him, but then came the sudden rush of reality as the harsh facts presented themselves.

‘But it’s not,’ I cried. ‘It’s not okay.’

‘I’ll deal with it tomorrow,’ he said. ‘If that man’s got Tyson, I promise we’ll get him back.’

‘And if he hasn’t?’

‘I’ll get him back,’ is the last thing I remember him saying, before I dozed off again.

He was gone by the time I woke up, my hand instinctively reaching down to the floor beside the bed, giving Tyson the sign that it was okay to jump up. I waited momentarily for my face to be licked or the unmistakable swish of an excitable tail going from side to side. It felt like I’d been punched when I remembered he wasn’t there. My body ached with yearning and I thought, as I so often do, about the passage of time. How so much can happen in twenty-four hours – in one hour – one minute. That’s all it takes for your whole world to turn on its axis. In just a moment, everything can change, and your life will never be the same again.

That’s how it had felt when my dad died suddenly. He’d uncharacteristically taken the day before off work, and we’d gone out on the boat – just the two of us. It was the most perfect day; the sun scorched in a bright blue sky and the light breeze worked in our favour as we sailed my namesake out onto the Solent. We had anchored off the coast of the Isle of Wight and called a tender to take us to one of Dad’s restaurants.

‘How are you, my friend?’ asked the head chef, Antonio, as he kissed Dad on both cheeks.

‘Very good,’ Dad had replied, his accent so much more Italian whenever he spoke to a fellow countryman. ‘I couldn’t be better.’