Creature Comforts

‘We were bursting at the seams and it’s flat just there. Besides, I had to put them somewhere,’ she said reasonably.

‘But you’re only licensed for a certain number, and there wouldn’t be quite so many if you didn’t take in dogs that could be easily found new homes by other charities,’ Judy pointed out.

‘But the poor things have had such hard lives that they need a little time and love so they can recover first,’ Debo protested. ‘And anyway, when Baz came back last year – his first flying visit for yonks and he’d put on so much weight that that heart attack was on the cards, Izzy – he didn’t say anything about there being too many dogs, or the kennels spreading round the front just a tiny bit, so I’m sure he wouldn’t mind about the extra runs.’

‘The new owner of Sweetwell might not be quite so sanguine about having what looks like a shanty town up the side of his drive,’ Judy said.

This reminded Debo of her grievances and she said indignantly, ‘That will! I’m sure someone must have persuaded Baz not to leave me the Lodge, because he always promised he would. If I had any money, I’d challenge the will on the grounds of undue influence, but he didn’t leave me any of that, either!’

‘If you’d had any money, you’d have instantly spent it all on the dogs,’ Judy said. ‘We’ve got so many unpaid bills, we could wallpaper the entire office with them.’

‘You have got the Lodge for life, haven’t you?’ I asked. ‘That’s what Daisy said.’

‘Yes, but that’s not the same as owning it outright. I mean, apparently I can’t even make small changes to it without permission from this Carlyle man! And he’s already had my sign taken down from the front gate without asking me first, though I got Tom to put it by the turning to the Lodge instead.’

‘I suspect people could find the kennels without a sign,’ I said drily. ‘But I did notice the new one for Rufus Carlyle Garden Antiques – it would be a bit hard to miss, since it’s so big. That’s his name, Carlyle?’

‘Yes, Rufus Carlyle. I do vaguely remember Fliss getting pregnant by some man of that name, back in the mid-seventies, because there was a bit of a scandal in the papers. So since he took his name, this Rufus is probably his child and not Baz’s illegitimate son at all. They should check his DNA against Baz’s, before he moves himself and his business in, lock, stock and barrel.’

‘I’m not even sure you can do that at this stage, but even if you could I think you’re way too late, because a big removal van passed earlier, while you were out,’ Judy said. ‘Myra says she expects him to arrive any day and she’s spring-cleaned the house ready.’

Sweetwell Hall was an ancient, long, low, black and white building with a small brick-built Victorian wing blobbed onto one end like an afterthought, in which the younger of Tom Tamblyn’s two sisters, Myra, her husband and their son, Olly, occupied the upper storey. Myra, Sweetwell’s housekeeper, was such a fanatical cleaner that she practically caught the dust before it hit any surface, so the place was probably already buffed and polished to within an inch of its life.

‘The outbuildings are full of garden antiques now, lorry-loads of them … whatever they are,’ Debo said. ‘When did you talk to Myra, Judy?’

‘I didn’t. Lottie told me when I popped over to the shop for a packet of walnut halves, and she said that Myra was going to make some proper Lancashire hotpots ready for his first dinner in the house, so he could start the way she intended him to go on.’

‘I didn’t think she cooked for Baz,’ I said.

‘Not often, but she did stock the freezer and fridge, so she had a lot of control over what he ate. He always said he didn’t know why he bothered leaving out a list of things he fancied, because she always ignored it.’

‘Presumably they’ve already completely proved this Rufus Carlyle person is Baz’s son, or Baz wouldn’t have acknowledged him in the will,’ I said, returning to the original subject.

‘That’s true, Izzy. Baz was easy-going but he wasn’t stupid, and he must have known Fliss Gambol would have said anything if she thought there was money in it,’ Judy said.

‘She certainly would,’ Debo agreed, her face darkening. ‘She was always trying to take my boyfriends away … and if she hadn’t drawn your mother back into her crowd after you were born, Izzy, I’m sure she’d still be here with us.’

‘Daisy told me all about that,’ I said.

‘Lisa was very young for her age and impressionable,’ Debo explained. ‘I always felt I should have taken better care of her.’

‘You had a career too, don’t forget, and you did your best,’ Judy told her. ‘I haven’t heard much about Fliss for years – what’s she been doing?’

‘I think she’s been on an endless cycle of rehab stays and career relaunches that never quite took off. Now up she pops as the mother of the heir and, reading between the lines of that story she sold to a Sunday rag, she’d let the Carlyle bloke think he was the child’s father until she decided she could get more out of Baz, only a couple of months before he died. I think Baz met Rufus only once – then he goes and leaves Sweetwell to him!’

‘Rufus Carlyle is certainly no child,’ Judy said. ‘He must be a year or two older than Izzy, in his late thirties.’

‘Well, you’ve seen him and I haven’t,’ Debo said. ‘I was away earning an honest crust both times he came to inspect his windfall, so you’d think he was trying to avoid me. Probably a guilty conscience,’ she added darkly.

‘Guilty conscience?’ I asked. ‘If he was really Baz’s son, then I suppose he couldn’t help that.’

‘No, but then he must have got round Baz and talked him into leaving him everything, even the things he’d promised to me,’ Debo said bitterly. ‘It’s so unfair!’

‘But Baz did make sure you could live in the Lodge for the rest of your life, so that’s not so bad. I mean, I know you can’t do anything radical with it, or leave it to anyone else, but he can’t get you out.’

‘But he could object to the kennels encroaching onto his land, or us building any more,’ Judy said. ‘And though I didn’t tell you at the time, Debo, because I knew it would upset you even more, Fliss came for a snoop round one day, with Dan Clew in tow.’

Debo stared at her. ‘When was this?’

‘When you were away the first time. I opened the door and there she was, looking like one of the Living Dead. I told her she had a nerve, showing her face anywhere near you – and it was just as well you weren’t there, Debo, or you’d have set the dogs onto her.’

‘Too true: I would.’

‘She said the kennels were a total eyesore and her son wanted them cleared away as soon as possible. Then Dan Clew put in his two pennyworth and told her Baz had been trying to get us to remove them from his land for years, not to mention complaining about vicious dogs constantly escaping and the noise problem, but we hadn’t taken any notice.’

‘Dan Clew is a lying toad who would do anything to get us out of the Lodge! And the brazen cheek of the woman, coming to my home after what she did!’ Debo said furiously. ‘I hope you didn’t let her set foot over the threshold.’

‘No, and I told her Dan was lying and Baz had been a dog-lover who completely supported what we were doing with the Refuge. Then she said even if that was true, Rufus certainly didn’t feel the same way and then I slammed the door on her. She seemed to be getting on very well with Dan,’ she added.

‘Well, she would – she’d sleep with anything male and he’s never been that fussy, either.’

‘She’s a fast worker though, because Myra said afterwards that she’d been staying with friends not far away and only called in out of curiosity to have a quick look at the place.’

‘She hasn’t got any friends,’ Debo said. ‘It was probably another rehab clinic.’

‘We’ve only got her word for it that her son wants the kennels removed,’ I said. ‘He might be another dog-lover.’

‘I don’t think so,’ Judy said, ‘because actually he did say something about the kennels near the drive not giving a good impression to customers when he opened the garden antiques centre for business. And then Goldie – he’s a big mastiff cross, Izzy – got out that very night and went up to Sweetwell. Myra was too terrified to hang the washing out next morning until I’d been and collected him.’

‘He only hates men,’ Debo said. ‘And he didn’t actually bite, he just threatened to.’

‘Perhaps, but you can understand that he wouldn’t want big, vicious-looking dogs bouncing up to customers,’ I said.

‘Well, Goldie’s gone to live with a woman in an isolated Scottish croft now, and she loves him to bits,’ Debo told me.

A lorry covered in a flapping tarpaulin went past and on up the drive, rattling the diamond-paned windows. ‘That’s probably another load of garden antiquities,’ Judy said. ‘When we took some of the dogs up there first thing this morning, the courtyard was full of old wrought-iron gates, fountains, wheelbarrows and even bits of ancient farm machinery.’

‘What’s this Rufus Carlyle like?’ I asked her.

‘I don’t really know. He’s always called at dusk, like a vampire. A bit brusque, deepish voice, quite tall, late thirties.’

‘Fliss must have had her fling with Baz a couple of years before he and I became an item, if Rufus is his,’ Debo said. ‘I wouldn’t have looked at him if I’d known she’d got there first.’

‘According to that newspaper article, it was only a brief encounter in a storage cupboard at a well-known restaurant,’ Judy said.

‘She certainly put it about a bit,’ Debo said disparagingly.

‘So did you,’ pointed out her friend with brutal honesty.