A Christmas Tail: A heart-warming Christmas romance

‘Well, I’m glad I’ve met with your approval.’

‘I’m very happy to give it.’ He was entirely unruffled, which had the opposite effect on Cat.

‘Are you always like this?’

‘Like what?’

‘Incredibly patronizing.’

‘I wasn’t aware that I was being. I saw you were struggling, came over to help, and—’

‘Yes, thanks for that, I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine now that squirrelgate’s over. Nice meeting you.’ She tried to walk coolly off, but Disco was intent on spending more time with her new friend, and Valentino had managed to get his lead wrapped round Bertha’s, so her aloof departure didn’t happen. Mark bent down to untangle the leads. ‘Thanks,’ she said shortly. ‘Again.’

‘No problem…again.’ She could hear the amusement in his voice.

Cat turned in the direction of the park gate. Within moments Bertha was once again in front, and Cat’s sore hand stung in the wind. The rain was coming down harder now, running in rivulets off her jacket, her short hair plastered to her forehead. She risked a glance behind her, and saw that Mark was still watching her, Chips sitting at his feet, the tennis ball in her mouth. He was attaching a lead to her collar, but raised a hand when she turned. Cat looked quickly ahead and tripped over Disco, only just managing to catch her balance and prevent herself falling, sprawling, into the middle of her pack of pets.

Cheeks burning, she picked up her pace. She had to admit that, despite her best efforts, her first proper outing as a dog walker had not gone smoothly. Still, she would learn from her mistakes, and next time she strolled into Fairview Park she’d be completely in control, as serene as a swan, even if the bloody squirrel made another appearance. She was torn between never wanting to see smug Mark and Chips again, and hoping that he’d be there to see her moment of triumph.

‘I’ll show them,’ she said to her suddenly well-behaved pooches. ‘I’ll show them just how effective I can be with my dogs. Fairview Park won’t know what’s hit it. I mean,’ she said to Bertha, who was padding alongside her, her short golden coat rubbing against Cat’s leg as they walked, ‘he acts all smug but he doesn’t even know what the park’s called. It’s not Primrose Pa—’ She stopped, the spark she’d felt earlier exploding into clarity. ‘Oh! That’s very strange.’ She glanced behind her, but Mark was no longer there. ‘What’s going on there, I wonder? What do you think, Bertha? Do you think I should try and find out?’ She took the dog’s easy silence as assent, and with her curiosity radar once more set to high, Cat made her way back to Primrose Terrace.

‘It wasn’t as bad as all that,’ Cat said. ‘It was a…lesson in dog management.’ She was sitting on Elsie’s sofa, brushing Chalky’s fur. She’d dried each of the dogs with a towel as she returned them, and the mini schnauzers looked like they’d been through a spin-cycle. ‘They saw a squirrel, and I’m sure the most experienced dog walker would have struggled to control a braying mob like mine.’ Chalky looked up at her and pressed his cold nose against her chin. ‘I wasn’t talking about you,’ Cat whispered. ‘You were a gentleman – almost.’

‘But you made it back, at least, no harm to any of them.’

‘They didn’t bite each other. They all seemed to get on fine, it was me they ganged up on.’

Elsie shook her head and stroked Disco. She was wearing a raspberry-coloured cardigan, her neat white bob perfectly in place. ‘Dogs do sense emotions in humans, much more than I think we realize. I expect they knew that you were nervous, and thought they could have a bit of extra fun at your expense. You need to be more confident.’

‘I need to be left to get on with it, is what I need.’ Cat took a long swig of tea. It burned her throat, but she enjoyed the warmth after such a cold, wet walk.

‘I thought this man rescued you?’

‘He did. But he was smug about it. Ooooh, so smug, Elsie, you wouldn’t believe. Everything about him is smug, his trendy frayed leather jacket, his stubble, his jawline.’

‘He has a smug jawline?’ Elsie looked sceptical.

‘It’s the most smug thing about him. But …’Cat narrowed her eyes.

‘But?’

‘What do you know about Jessica?’

‘Jessica the author? Owner of your Westies?’

Cat nodded. ‘Is she married?’

‘Divorced, a couple of years ago now. She’s clearly unsettled, because the house has been up for sale several times since then, but it always comes off the market again. I suppose she might not be around for much longer.’

‘She did say she’d had a hard time recently. She was quite honest about it, considering we’d only just met.’ Cat thought of Jessica’s sad eyes, and then the Westies. Their soft white fur, their open, eager expressions. They hadn’t been that bad today, and who could hold a grudge against such pretty dogs? Already she would miss them if they weren’t there. ‘What about now?’

‘Came off the market again two weeks ago,’ Elsie said with a smile, clearly happy that she had the answers to Cat’s questions.

‘Which means…?’

‘She’s found a reason to stay in Fairview?’

‘Exactly!’ Cat leaned forward, her voice rising, making Chalky jump. She held onto the old dog, unprepared to relinquish his warmth.

‘What do you mean?’ Elsie asked.

‘Mark.’

‘Smug Mark in the park?’

‘If you have to use his full title. He said he was new here, and the “To Let” sign recently came down outside number four.’

‘Good detecting,’ Elsie said. ‘But why do you suppose he’s the one who’s moved in there? Have you seen him?’

‘No, I’ve only seen him a couple of times, in the park. But he said something that makes me think he and Jessica know each other.’

‘Which was?’

‘He called it Primrose Park. Have you ever heard anyone call it that? I mean, it’s not even on Primrose Terrace – it’s a road back – so why would you give it the wrong name?’

‘No idea. What has this got to do with Jessica?’

‘Guess who else called it Primrose Park.’

Elsie’s eyes widened. She sipped her tea thoughtfully. ‘That does seem quite coincidental. Good for Jessica. I don’t know her well, but by all accounts she’s had a rough time – there was a lot of speculation in the press about her ex-husband. She deserves some happiness.’

Cat nodded, her hands going over Chalky’s ears again and again. He was asleep now, his breaths turning to snores, his back leg twitching as in his dreams he caught the squirrel. ‘And Jessica said things were looking up – she hinted that there might be someone else. But then he didn’t seem to recognize her dogs, or maybe he was pretending not to. I wonder…’ she murmured.

‘Wonder what?’

‘Well, Mark seemed so smug and flirtatious. He seemed like he’d be…I don’t know. If she’s had a bad break-up, if she’s had her heart broken…Maybe I should – should find out a bit more about him.’

‘Cat.’ There was a warning note in Elsie’s voice.

‘She seemed so lovely and trusting when I met her. She gave me spare keys to her house after five minutes. You’d think someone in the public eye would be more cautious and I just…I don’t want her to get hurt.’

‘You barely know her.’

‘But I’m going to, if I’m going to be walking her dogs, and I think that Mark might…’

‘Might what? Not be right for her? Cat, how on earth can you think that after having met each of them for five minutes? You’re inventing things.’

‘I’m trying to be helpful.’