Elsie had placed pots of budding hydrangeas at the edges of the steps.
Cat let Disco prance up ahead of her, then rang the bell. It took a long time for the door to open, and when Elsie stood in the doorway, leaning on a crutch, her short white bob, cardigan and long skirt as neatly presented as her house, Cat felt her cheeks redden.
‘It didn’t go as well as you’d hoped, then?’ Elsie said, looking at Cat’s face before opening the door wide and ushering her in, then hobbling after her into the airy living room.
Cat let Disco off the lead, and the puppy bounded to the basket under the window, where Chalky, Elsie’s older miniature schnauzer, was having a mid-morning nap. Disco nuzzled Chalky’s face, yipped and picked up a heavily chewed cuddly pig, then stood expectantly in front of the older dog. Chalky lifted his head, looked balefully at the puppy from under tufty eyebrows, and closed his eyes. Cat laughed, but Elsie was watching her expectantly.
‘No,’ Cat sighed, her smile fading. ‘It was even more disastrous than my worst-case scenarios.’
‘I told you that Alison wouldn’t stand for it.’
‘I had hoped she would come round to my way of thinking.’
‘That, Catherine, is a triumph of optimism over common sense, and I’m being kind.’
Cat stroked Chalky and ruffled Disco’s fur. Elsie lowered herself slowly into an armchair.
‘I didn’t want Disco in the house while you went for your check-up,’ Cat said. ‘Puppies get lonely, and then they get disruptive.’ Just like me, she thought. ‘I was going to see what mood Alison was in and then, at break time, bring Disco out to meet the children.’
‘But you didn’t get that far?’
Cat shook her head.
‘You know what Alison’s like,’ Elsie said, ‘and you know that dogs are her pet hate – no pun intended. She’s probably more upset that you actively went against her wishes, rather than for any disruption you – and my dog – may have caused. But I am sorry, because you were doing a favour for me.’
‘How was the check-up? I’m surprised you’re back already.’
‘Oh, it was fine.’ Elsie waved her hand dismissively. ‘The knee’s healing, but slowly. I have to stay off it as much as I can for another few weeks. Nothing I didn’t know already. What’s the damage to you? Suspended? Cut in wages?’
‘Fired,’ Cat said. ‘No second chances, no room for manoeuvre. Do you want some tea?’
She left Elsie gawping in the living room and busied herself in the kitchen, making tea and finding chocolate biscuits. Her insides felt hollow with panic, but already, talking it through with Elsie, she was beginning to feel better. It had only taken four days for Cat to become friends with her neighbour once she’d moved to Primrose Terrace, and what Elsie didn’t know about Fairview wasn’t worth knowing. She’d gone into hospital for a long-awaited knee operation at the end of February, and Cat was helping out, taking Disco and Chalky for walks when she could, cooking for her sometimes, keeping her company.
‘I am so sorry, Cat,’ Elsie said when she returned with the tray. ‘I didn’t think she’d go that far.’
Disco was on the sofa, performing a thorough hunt for any treasure that might be hidden between the cushions. Cat poured the teapot and scooped the puppy onto her lap. Disco wriggled, licked Cat’s hand and settled down; a warm, breathing comfort blanket.
‘She was furious,’ Cat said. ‘It was a stupid idea, I know. But I just thought that once she’d met Disco she’d realize how wonderful dogs can be. I mean, how could anyone be annoyed at this little thing?’
‘Not everyone loves dogs, and some people actively dislike them. They can be smelly and messy and very badly behaved.’
‘Yes, but look.’ Disco was breathing softly, her small ears flopped over her eyes, her head resting on her front paws.
‘You don’t have to convince me,’ Elsie said softly, ‘but I don’t think you’ll be able to convince Alison. Stop worrying about her – what’s done is done. You have to focus on yourself and what you’re going to do now.’
Cat stared out of the window, watching as the man from a few doors down walked past, wetsuit on, a surfboard under his arm. Cat thought it must be pretty cold in the water today, despite the sun. She stirred her tea.
‘Cat?’ Elsie prompted.
‘Sorry, what?’
‘What are you going to do now that you have no job?’
Cat saw the challenge in the older woman’s eyes and knew that she wouldn’t get away with feeling sorry for herself. ‘I have no idea,’ she said. She stared at her hands and noticed that the varnish on one of her nails, the one that was orange like a tangerine, had started to peel.
‘What about your old nursery? Would they have you back?’ Elsie wouldn’t give up, that was one of the great things about her. Solutions must be found and agreed on, in this case before the sun set.
Cat thought of the tiny nursery on a sloping hill overlooking the Brighton seafront. It had been energetic and spontaneous, and her ex-boyfriend Daniel, a teacher, had recommended her to the owners because of her creativity. It had been all the things that Alison’s was not, and with its hippy attitude probably not a typical nursery. But Cat didn’t want to go backwards.
‘Yes, they would,’ she said. ‘But I moved here because I wanted to try a new view and new scenery and new people. I like Primrose Terrace, and I love living with Polly. I need to find something here.’
‘Right.’ Elsie stroked Disco’s fur. The puppy had transferred herself from Cat’s lap to Elsie’s and then conked out. ‘You’re very spirited,’ Elsie said. ‘You could set something up yourself, if that was a more appealing idea than shop work or waitressing in the short term.’
Cat ran a hand back through her short hair. ‘I don’t have the patience for waitressing. And I don’t have my mum’s artistic talent so I can’t do greeting cards, or knitting, or making hats.’
‘What can you do?’ Elsie waved her hand away when Cat gave her a sharp look. ‘I don’t mean it like that – I know you’ve got a drama degree and that you’re qualified as a nursery assistant, but what can you do? What do you enjoy? What about Fairhaven theatre? I’m sure they’re looking for volunteers, even if it’s just front of house.’
Cat laid her head against the sofa. ‘But I need to pay rent, and the problem with theatres is they never have any money. I could volunteer, but it would be years – maybe decades – before there was the possibility of paid work.’
‘So what else do you enjoy?’
‘Long baths, cooking – sometimes – fresh air, walking on the beach. I’m interested in people.’ She was beginning to run out of enthusiasm. The initial shock had worn off, and now all she wanted to do was to climb into one of those long baths and hide from her own stupidity.
‘That sounds like an online dating profile, and not a very original one.’
‘I
