I rang through four old uni friends from out of town before I finally got hold of someone who was willing to give me sofa space for a little while.
When it was all arranged, I hung up Jack’s mobile and beamed at him. ‘Sorted. Surinder says I can stay with her.’
‘Didn’t sound like she was too happy about it.’
‘Well, hopefully it won’t be for long. I’ve got nowhere else I can go.’
‘You know, you could stay if you want. Here, with me. I kind of like having you around.’
His keen eyes flickered over my face, and I felt my cheeks pinken.
‘I can’t live in this thing forever though, can I?’
‘Why not? I’m going to.’
‘But you’re… you. And we can’t all illustrate books for a living. I need to find some work.’
Plus there was the other thing. I’d been noticing it more lately: the lingering looks, the… the something. Not just on his side, from me too.
What with one thing and another, we’d been together in the van nearly a month. And the natural result of our confined quarters was an intense closeness, both physically and, increasingly, emotionally. I could sense there was something building between me and Jack, something inevitable, and with my head still reeling from the fallout of my relationship with Ethan, I was worried I was in danger of… let’s say, of making choices that might not be for the best right now.
‘Okay,’ Jack said, dropping my hands. He looked disappointed. ‘If that’s what you want. I’ll miss you though, Kit.’
‘We’ll stay in touch, won’t we?’
‘Course we will.’ He smiled. ‘For you, I might even keep my phone switched on.’
***
We set off that afternoon. We’d been camping near Derby and Surinder and her husband lived down in London, so we had a long drive ahead.
‘So how did you say you knew this girl?’ Jack asked when we were almost halfway there. ‘University, was it?’
‘Jack…’
‘Hmm?’
‘Jack!’ My voice was urgent. ‘Can you pull over?’
‘Not car-sick, are you?’
‘It’s the puppies. I think they might be coming.’
In the rear-view mirror I could see Sandy squirming, shifting her hindquarters constantly from one side of the van to the other. I’d noticed her at it for a good quarter of an hour, looking steadily more uncomfortable as the van rocked on its way. Her mouth hung open, and a whispered, wheezy moan was coming from the back of her throat. As I watched, a shudder ran across her tight, round belly.
Jack glanced over his shoulder and his eyes widened. ‘Shit! You’re right.’
‘What do we do?’ I said. ‘Can we get her to a vet? Oh God, Jack!’
‘Stay calm, lass, I’ve done this before. You sit with her while I get us to a campsite. There’s one with pitches for campers half an hour away.’ He looked at Sandy again. ‘Cross your legs, old girl.’
When we reached the campsite, Jack grabbed Sandy’s blanket from the back of the passenger seat and chucked it to me.
‘Cover her. I don’t think we really want to explain to the site owner why we’ve got a dog having puppies in the back.’
I draped the blanket over Sandy. She gave a pathetic whine, looking up at me with eyes that begged me to make the pain stop. God, I hoped it’d be quick for her.
Luckily she was quiet while we checked in. Jack drove us round to our pitch and parked up, then sorted out the power hookup so we could have a bit of light. When he’d done that he came to join me.
Sandy looked at her dad and opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Another shiver ran along her belly.
‘Not too long.’ He patted her. ‘Doing well, Sand. You’re very brave.’
She wagged her tail with a few limp thumps.
‘Let’s get her into her bed,’ Jack said. ‘Lift her head.’
I did as he asked, and with an effort we eased a lightly whimpering Sandy into the dog bed.
‘For your own good, girl,’ Jack said, looking guilty at the discomfort he was causing. ‘I want you and the babies to be comfortable, that’s all.’
‘What do we do, Jack?’ I asked in a whisper when Sandy was curled awkwardly in her little bed, panting. ‘You sure we shouldn’t take her to a vet?’
‘It’s fine. I grew up on a farm, I’ve done this hundreds of times.’ He went over to the tall cupboard next to the kitchenette and took out a cardboard box. ‘Just need my puppy delivery kit.’
‘What’s in it?’ I asked when he’d knelt back down.
‘Take a look.’
I peered into the box. Inside was a shoebox, pair of scissors, post-it note and a one-litre bottle of vodka.
I frowned. ‘What’s all this stuff? I thought we needed hot towels and lukewarm water or something.’
‘That’s for babies,’ he said. ‘I mean, human babies. Dogs tend to sort themselves out. We won’t need to interfere unless there’s complications.’
I took out the shoebox and shook it.
‘It’s empty.’
‘Yeah. Hopefully it’ll stay that way.’
‘Oh. I see.’ I put it back and looked at the post-it note stuck to the bottom of the box. There was a phone number scrawled on it. ‘What’s that?’
‘Twenty-four-hour helpline if she gets into difficulties. They can talk us through it, or put us in touch with an out-of-hours vet if it has to come to that. And sterilised scissors, in case we have to cut any out of their sacks.’
‘And what’s the vodka for? Antiseptic?’
‘No.’ He unscrewed the lid, took a drink and passed it to me. ‘For us. It’s going to be a long night.’
I shot the vodka bottle a wary glance. ‘My friend’s expecting me though.’
‘Sorry. Act of God,’ he said, looking at Sandy. ‘You can stay one more night, can’t you? Then we’ll get you a taxi to the station tomorrow so you can go the rest of the way. I won’t be able to move Sand for a fortnight or so after the babies come.’
I felt a wave of relief at having an excuse to stay another night. Much as I knew it needed to happen, I’d been feeling increasingly anxious about the impending separation all through our drive.
‘Okay, I’ll text Surinder. Couldn’t leave you to bring the pups on your own.’ I took a swig of vodka and passed it back. It felt like we were sealing a pact, somehow.
After he’d drunk some, he put down the bottle and curled his arm around me. ‘Thanks, Kit. Feel like I need you tonight.’
I turned my attention to Sandy. Her face was full of resigned pain. When I placed my hand against her hot belly, it felt like the puppies were dancing the tarantella in there.
‘Poor little girl,’ I said. ‘You’ll have to get her sterilised, Jack. She can’t keep having litters, it’s not healthy.’
‘Yeah, I know. Just bad luck this time. She was only a pup when I got her. I wanted to wait till she was a bit older before I took her to the vet, then the first time a boy got near her…’ He shook his head. ‘Too late.’
‘What is it with you and rescuing things anyway?’ I said, smiling. ‘If it’s not mistreated dogs, it’s destitute women.’
He smiled back. ‘Suppose I am building a bit of a reputation in that area. Hey, you know where there’s any aquariums round here? Always wanted a pet turtle, maybe there’s one’ll want rescuing.’
I laughed. ‘No, sorry. So did you really live on a farm?’
‘Just a little one. My parents had a few acres over in County Wicklow, where I grew up. Then they moved to Scotland.’
‘Do you still have family in Ireland?’
‘Mikey, my big brother – he took the farm on after Mam and Dad retired. Grandparents. Few aunts and uncles.’
‘Go back much?’
‘When I can,’ he said. ‘It’s a beautiful place, not far from the sea. You been to Ireland?’
‘No. I worked on a city guide to Dublin once.’
He smiled. ‘All right, where have you been? Anywhere other than Alicante?’
‘Blackpool?’
‘Wow. Exotic.’
Sandy let out a long, low whine. A small black bag had started to emerge behind her.
‘There’s the first one,’ Jack said in a hushed tone. He took another swig of vodka and passed it to me.
When Sandy had shaken herself free of the puppy, it lay by her feet in a little wriggling sack. Its mum blinked at it, looking puzzled.
‘What do we do?’ I asked Jack in a panicked whisper. ‘Do we need the scissors?’
‘Give it a second, let instinct kick in,’ he whispered back.
After a couple more seconds, Sandy bit the bag open and her first tiny baby spilled out in a mess of goo and life. She chewed off the umbilical cord then gave the little chap a vigorous clean with her tongue, and we watched as he squirmed his way blindly to her flank, attached himself to one teat and suckled noisily. Sandy shivered again as another contraction rippled through her, but she didn’t make a sound.
‘It should get easier for her now,’ Jack said.
I looked at the little puppy. He wasn’t yellow like Sandy but black, with a piping of white running around his collar.
‘What colour’s the dad?’ I asked Jack.
He laughed. ‘Brown, or I thought he was. Starting to wonder if Sand’s been putting it about.’
I tickled Sandy between the ears. ‘Slutty girl.’
‘Definitely Jack Russell stock though,’ he said, examining the pup. ‘That’s good. If they’ve got the ratter gene, I should have a home for them.’
‘How can you tell?’ I asked. ‘He looks a bit rat-like himself at the moment.’
‘Shape of the muzzle. Long and thin.’
I squinted at the puppy, sucking against Sandy’s belly as she regarded him with a comical mixture of pride, affection and surprise.
‘He’s very tiny, isn’t he?’ I said. ‘I mean, even for a baby. They seemed bigger when I felt her tummy.’
‘You’re right. Think we’re looking at the runt here.’
‘Can I pet him?’
‘One finger, very quick. Sandy won’t be keen.’
I brushed the little pup with the tip of my finger. His skin felt warm and silken. As soon as I’d withdrawn my hand Sandy started washing him again, as if to get the stench of stinky human off his magnificent doginess.
‘Aww. Lovely, isn’t he?’ I said, simpering. ‘Clever old Sandy.’
Jack shot me a concerned glance. ‘Listen, Kit. Try not to get too attached, okay?’
‘Why?’
‘It’s a risky time, the first twenty-four hours. And I don’t want to scare you, but the little ones – well, they don’t always make it. I don’t want to see you upset if it’s bad news in the morning.’
‘Oh.’ I looked at the little pup, his tiny eyes glued closed and his pink mouth clamped around Sandy’s teat. ‘Okay, I’ll… try not to.’
He gave my shoulder a squeeze. ‘He’ll probably be fine. Just wanted to warn you.’
‘Yeah. Thanks.’
‘Look, can you mind her a bit? I want to get the awnings up before the light gives out.’
I turned wide eyes on him. ‘You’re leaving me? What if another pup comes?’
‘I’ll just be outside. Anyway, Sandy knows what she’s doing.’ He gave the nursing dog a pat. ‘She’s a smart little thing. Just leave her to it and yell for me if she seems to be having trouble.’
But by the time Jack had finished getting the awnings up, there was still no sign of another puppy. Sandy was panting contentedly while she fed her single baby, although I’d noticed the shivers across her tummy getting more pronounced.
‘Next one’s on its way,’ Jack said when he came back in, glancing at his dog’s rippling flank. ‘Textbook so far. Looks like we’ll be all right.’
‘Fingers crossed.’ I passed him the vodka as he sat down next to me and he took a glug.
My eyes were drawn to Sandy, whimpering with quiet pathos. The next puppy had started to emerge.
‘It’s coming,’ I said in an awed whisper.
‘So it is.’ Jack kissed the top of my head. It felt like the right thing, just then.
For this birth, Sandy got to her feet. Her firstborn sucked blindly at the air as he wondered where his meal had gone.
When the furry jellybean was free of his mum’s little doggy body, there was no hesitation. She bit him out of his bag and cleaned him up, and minutes later the newbie was suckling happily next to his brother – or sister, the sexing would have to come later. Somehow it felt like all dogs were male by default, just as all cats were female.
The new boy was a solid chocolate, and nearly a third as big again as his older sibling. He didn’t have the long, thin muzzle Jack had pointed out as the hallmark of a Jack Russell, instead bearing the rounder snout of his mother.
‘Brown.’ Jack gave Sandy a rub between the ears. ‘Sorry I slandered you, girl. Looks like it was Ben’s old mutt who did the deed after all.’
Sandy was whimpering again, and her contractions seemed to be closer together. Sure enough, ten minutes later the next pup’s head was visible, and she stood to finish the birth.
‘That was quick,’ I said, taking the vodka from Jack and swallowing about a quarter-shot’s worth. Puppy midwifery was a stressful business.
‘Yeah, there’s not really any rhyme or reason to these things. Sometimes it’s minutes between births, sometimes hours.’ Jack looked at me as I rubbed a fist in my eye. ‘No need for you to stay up though. I can see to Sandy.’
‘And leave you on your own? Not a chance.’ I squeezed his hand. ‘You said you needed me and here I am.’
He flung me a grateful smile. ‘Thanks, Kit.’
I looked at the newest pup. Sandy had freed it of its sack and was giving it a good wash, but the tiny thing just lay there. It didn’t wiggle, and it didn’t join its siblings at the all-you-can-drink milk bar. It just… lay there.
‘Why doesn’t it move, Jack?’ I asked quietly.
He was looking at it with concern. ‘Sorry, girl,’ he said to Sandy. ‘You won’t like this but it has to be done.’
Jack scooped up the little dog. Sandy gave a faint warning growl, but she didn’t try to stop him. Its tiny body looked limp and lifeless in his hand.
He lifted it to his ear. ‘Not breathing.’
‘Dead?’ I whispered.
‘No. Heart’s beating.’ Jack held the puppy between his two hands and rubbed it vigorously. ‘Do me a favour, Kit. There’s cotton buds in the big cupboard, can you grab one?’
‘Okay.’ I got them from the cupboard and handed one to Jack.
Very carefully, he cleaned the puppy’s nose and mouth, then started rubbing it between his hands again. Sandy watched him nervously. After a minute, the puppy made a noise like it was choking on a fly, and I saw it squirm.
‘Thank God,’ Jack said with a low whistle of relief.
He laid the puppy gently down by its mum, who shot him a glare of displeasure – fine thanks for saving her baby’s life, but that’s dogs for you – before giving the little pup a violent wash until he smelled right. Then she dragged him by the scruff to her flank. After a couple of seconds, he managed to clamp himself to a teat and suckle.
‘Airway got blocked up on the way out,’ Jack said. ‘A bit of milk’ll soon get his strength up.’
I fixed him with an impressed gaze. ‘How did you know what to do?’
He smiled. ‘Like I said. Not my first time.’
He stretched his arm round me again, and I tried to work out what I was feeling as I settled into it. I think it was… pride. Yes, that was it. I was proud of Jack, and the kind of man he was. And I was proud that I was the one snuggled into his arm right now; that in some sense, he’d chosen me.
So many times when I’d been with Ethan, he’d managed to make me feel worthless. There’d be some offhand comment or insult that would hit home, and if I’d shown him just how much it hurt he’d tell me it was only ‘banter’, that I was being oversensitive as usual, until I really started to believe I was the unreasonable one.
Jack never make me feel like that. He made me feel like I was somebody who mattered. Somebody he needed.
As we waited for the next puppy, a warm contentment filled me. There was something so pure, so simple and honest and real, about life in the camper. The nights spent playing games, or reading together in quiet serenity. Delivering the puppies, side by side, like a team: like equals. It was so different to my life with Ethan; the dinner parties with his dull work colleagues, the corporate functions, all that grown-up stuff. Now I’d experienced life with Jack, that whole existence just seemed so shallow and artificial. And the feelings I’d once believed I had for Ethan seemed the most shallow of all.