I said, ‘In your own time.’
I added a smile, just so he’d know he was in safe hands.
All I got for my pains was a scowl, but at least he was alive and talking. Whether he was quite making sense only time would tell. Whatever. I’d done my bit, and at this point I should have been safe in assuming that nothing worse could happen. Indeed, that when he’d recovered sufficiently to realise that I’d risked my life to save his he would be transformed into Mr Congeniality and I would be showered with thanks for bravery above and beyond the call of dog-walking duties. Possibly. I could wait.
Instead, still frowning, he said, ‘Why were you kissing me?’ From his tone, I didn’t get the impression it was an experience he would wish to repeat any time soon.
Well, snap.
‘I wasn’t kissing you,’ I replied, losing the smile. What did he think I was? Some crazy woman who leapt on unconscious men? I wanted to make sure he understood that I did not kiss men I didn’t know, and even if I did I certainly wouldn’t have to wait until they were unconscious. ‘I was giving you the kiss of life.’
He barked out something that might have been a laugh. The dismissive kind that lacked any kind of humour or warmth. ‘That had about as much in common with CPR as—’
I was spared whatever unflattering comparison he had in mind as a couple of uniformed policemen, taking advantage of the fact that I’d left the door ajar for the paramedics, burst into the hall. One of them grabbed me by the arm and without so much as a by-your-leave hauled me to my feet with an, ‘All right, young lady…’
With that, pandemonium broke out as the older of the two dogs—the one that had been keeping watch over Gabriel York—leapt up, pushing himself between me and the policemen. From somewhere deep in his throat he produced a low, threatening growl that he might well have learned from his master.
The other dog immediately stopped dancing excitedly about the new arrivals and joined in. My heroes.
‘Percy! Joe! Down.’
Percy, still baring his teeth but lowering the growl until it was scarcely audible, obeyed his master’s voice in his own good time, his haunches almost but not quite in contact with the floor, ready to spring to my defence at the slightest provocation. Joe followed his example. The policeman, taking heed of this canine warning that any injudicious move would be met with extreme prejudice, let go of my arm and took a step back.
‘Would someone like to tell me what the hell is going on?’
Gabriel York had taken advantage of the distraction to sit up and now, grabbing hold of the stairpost, he hauled himself to his feet.
‘No…’ I began. He glared at me for apparently daring to defy him. More gently, I said, ‘You really should sit down, Mr York.’
He gave me a look that suggested he would deal with me later, before ignoring my advice and turning to the nearest policeman. ‘You,’ he said. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘One of your neighbours called us, sir. She saw this young woman—’ he unwisely gestured in my direction, got a warning reprise of the growl from Percy for his trouble and immediately lowered his arm ‘—er, apparently breaking in through an upstairs window and called the local station.’
Gabriel York turned back to look at me. Sweat had broken out on his upper lip and he looked as if he was about to pass out again at any minute. But not, apparently, before he’d got some answers. ‘Is that right? You climbed in through an upstairs window?’
‘I had to do something!’ I was absolutely livid. I’d been out there, hanging on by my fingernails, risking my life, and instead of coming to help me his nosy neighbour had sat behind her curtains and called the police. Actually, my own legs felt suddenly less than solid as I had a quick flashback of the risks I’d taken. ‘I couldn’t just leave you lying there.’
‘How did you know I was—’ he made a gesture in the direction of the floor ‘—lying there?’
‘Look, my name is Sophie Harrington,’ I said, turning to the nearest policeman. ‘I was sent here by the Garland Agency. They’ll vouch for me. When no one answered the doorbell I looked through the letterbox and saw Mr York lying unconscious—’ he snorted dismissively at this ‘—lying unconscious,’ I repeated, ‘on the floor at the foot of the stairs, so I climbed up the downpipe and in through the window.’
The policeman turned to Gabriel York for a response to this. This time he didn’t snort. After a few moments’ silent contemplation he nodded, then winced, then said, ‘My neighbour undoubtedly did the correct thing, but Miss Harrington is right—’ well, hallelujah ‘—she’s here to walk my dogs.’
‘Lifesaving is all part of the service,’ I volunteered, earning myself another black look.
‘I’m sorry you’ve been bothered, gentlemen,’ he added, clearly hoping they’d leave so that he could collapse quietly. To be honest, he looked so grim that I had to force myself to stay put and not rush over to him and make him sit down before he collapsed in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Something warned me that it would not be a good idea.
Fortunately I did have one ace up my sleeve. I turned to the policemen. ‘They’re not the only ones who’ve been bothered, I’m afraid. Before I climbed in through the upstairs window and applied the kiss of life—’
‘I was not dead!’
No. He certainly wasn’t that. Even in extremis he’d managed a fairly good impression of being very much alive.
‘—I called for an ambulance,’ I finished, as if I had not been interrupted, hoping that I sounded as if I didn’t care one way or another if it ever arrived.
‘Then you can ring them again and call them off.’
The effort of talking was exhausting him, but his eyes held mine with an inner power. They were full of anger at his own weakness, hating me for having seen him that way, and I knew that there was no way I was going to be keeping this job—which was, I suppose, why I shrugged and said, ‘If you can make it to the phone, Mr York, you can call them off yourself. Otherwise you’re stuck with them.’ I smiled at the younger of the two policemen. He looked barely old enough to shave. Blissfully, he blushed. ‘You’ll stay until the paramedics arrive, gentlemen? These poor dogs really have to do what a dog has to do.’
They raised no objection.
The dogs’ leads were looped over a chair, along with—oh, joy—a pooper-scooper and some plastic bags. I picked them up, fastened the leads to the dogs’ collars and, leaving my employer in the capable care of two strapping policemen, said, ‘Okay, boys. Walkies.’
Joe needed no second bidding, leaping to his paws, his feathered tail whirling, his slender cream body quivering with excitement beneath his short silky coat. Percy looked to his master.
Gabriel York never took his eyes off me, and I found myself reliving the moment when the kiss of life had become something much more personal, remembering exactly how his lips had felt beneath mine, how his dark hair had felt beneath my hand as I’d brushed it back from his forehead. The strength of his jaw as I’d cradled it…
Then, with the slightest movement of his hand, he gave his dogs permission to go, and with
