Love Your Life(60)

    “I’m taking Harold for a walk,” he cuts across Nell hurriedly. “Back in a bit,” he adds to me. “Just need…a break. Come on, Harold.”

He strides away across the grass so fast that Harold has to scamper after him. When he’s about a hundred meters away he swivels to look at us, then turns again and strides even more quickly.

“Matt OK?” says Sarika, who’s watching him along with me.

“I think so,” I say thoughtfully. “I mean, we can be a bit full-on, I suppose. When we’re all together.”

“I’m a woman, OK?” Maud is once more addressing the general populace of the park, her arms sweeping around dramatically. “With a soul. And a heart. And a libido. A libido to die for.”

“What’s a leebdo?” asks Bertie with interest, and I exchange looks with Sarika.

“Ooookay,” she says. “Speeches are over. Who’s got some coffee?”



* * *



—

It takes a bit of persuading to get Maud to drink two espressos followed by a flask of water. But we manage it with a mixture of cajoling and threats—we’ve done this before—and soon Maud is looking much more perky. She opens her presents and weeps effusively at each one of them and hugs us all. We collect up the paper for recycling, then Sarika produces the birthday cake, which is from this lovely, very expensive patisserie near her house.

    “We should wait for Matt, though,” Sarika says, looking around. “D’you think he’s gone far?”

“He’s been a while,” I say, suddenly realizing how much time has elapsed. I scan the horizon and feel a clench of anxiety. Because Matt took Harold with him. And what if his delay is because something happened to Harold?

Something bad. Oh God. Please. No.

Already I’m standing up, scanning the busy park, trying to stop frightening images from piling into my head. I should have texted Matt. I should have gone with them. I should have—

“Matt!” Sarika’s voice interrupts my frenzied thoughts, and I swivel round with a gasp—then gasp again at the sight in front of me. Matt is approaching, his face and shirt splattered in mud. Harold is at his side, still on the lead but also covered in mud.

“What happened?” I hurry toward them. “Is Harold OK?”

“Harold’s fine,” says Matt, in a slightly odd voice.

“Thank God.” I sink down and cover my beloved Harold with kisses. Then, as a slight afterthought, I look up at Matt and say, “Wait. Are you OK?” I rise to my feet and take in his appearance properly. He’s got a new graze on his cheek and a twig sticking out of his collar and looks generally disheveled. “What happened?” I demand again.

“There was an incident,” says Matt shortly. “With a Great Dane.”

“Oh my God!” I say, horrified. I’m already feeling a surge of fury toward this Great Dane. I can picture it, with its monstrous slavering jaws and killer instinct. “Did it attack Harold? You need to tell me exactly what happened—”

    “The Great Dane was blameless,” says Matt, cutting me off. “Harold was…Harold.”

Oh, right.

For a moment I’m halted. Maybe I don’t want to know exactly what happened, after all. I glance down at Harold, who gazes up with his usual bouncy, mischievous expression.

“Harold.” I try to sound chiding. “Did you get Matt muddy? Were you naughty?”

“Naughty is an understatement,” says Matt, and he’s drawing breath as though to say more when his phone buzzes.

“Sorry,” he says, glancing at it. “I’ll just get this. I’ll be quick.”

“Just look at that dog,” says Nell as Matt walks away. “Completely unrepentant.” She adopts a sprightly Cockney accent. “?‘Weren’t me, guvnor. Weren’t me. It were the other feller what started it.’?”

“Shut up!” I say, a little indignant. “That’s not Harold!”

“It’s so Harold,” says Sarika, giggling.

“?‘Law-abiding citizen like me, guvnor?’?” Nell continues, on a roll. “?‘Start a fracas in a public vicinity? Me, what only wants a quiet life? I tell you, it were the other feller.’?”

She raises her eyebrows comically high, and I have to admit, she does look a bit like Harold at his most bright-eyed and innocent. “Oh, hi, Matt,” she adds, and I look up to see him returning. As he sits down, he lands with a bit of a thud, and for a few moments he’s motionless, staring ahead.

    “Sorry about your shirt,” I say guiltily, and he comes to.

“Oh. It’s fine.” He reaches for the twig in his collar and looks at it absently for a moment before dropping it on the ground. “Listen, Ava. I know we booked a table for brunch on the tenth, but that was my parents on the phone again. They’re convening a big meeting that day at the house. I’ve tried to get them to shift it, but…”

“At the weekend?” says Nell, in carefully neutral tones.

“We hold a lot of family meetings at the weekend,” says Matt. “Away from the office. It’s more private, I guess.”

“Well, don’t worry,” I say supportively. “Brunch was just an idea. You go to your parents’, that’s fine—” I break off as I see both Sarika and Nell making weird faces at me behind Matt’s back.