Sunshine and Spaniels. Cressida McLaughlin

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       Harper

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

      The News Building

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published in Great Britain by Harper 2015

      Copyright © HarperColl‌insPublishers 2015

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2015

      Cover images © Shutterstock.com

      Cressida McLaughlin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

      A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

      This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

      Ebook Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9780008135218

      Version: 2015-08-07

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Keep Reading_ Primrose Terrace

      

       About the Author

      

       Also by Cressida McLaughlin

      

       About the Publisher

       Chapter 1

      Cat Palmer had never seen Fairview Park looking so beautiful. It was late May, and the breeze that drifted in off the ocean made her think of days spent building sandcastles as a child. The sky was a brilliant blue with gauze-like clouds drifting slowly past. The wide expanse of green grass was humming and buzzing with families and couples and friends, all of whom had one thing in common: they were with their dogs.

      There was almost every breed imaginable, from Great Danes to chihuahuas, dachshunds to Dalmatians. Cat was determined to see if the age-old belief stood firm, that there was a resemblance between every dog and its owner. She thought of all the doggy friends she’d made since moving to Primrose Terrace at the beginning of the year, and since she’d started her dog-walking business, Pooch Promenade.

      There was her next-door neighbour Elsie with her two miniature schnauzers. All three had grey hair, but beyond that Cat couldn’t see any likeness. Then there was glamorous Jessica Heybourne, celebrity food author and Fairview socialite. Cat thought of her expensively highlighted blonde hair, and the three silky Westies that she owned – a diva with her diva dogs. Yes, there were more similarities there. Cat wondered what she should get if she was choosing a pet to match her own looks. She had boy-cut chestnut hair, brown eyes, long limbs. A red setter maybe, or a pointer? Though neither would be the breed of dog she’d choose, and she’d spent a lot of time thinking about the day she could have her own.

      Her newest clients were Will and Juliette Barker, a professional couple who lived at number six Primrose Terrace and had asked her to walk their two golden retrievers, Alfie and Effie, while they were at work. Cat didn’t know them that well, but she didn’t think either of them looked remotely like their pets.

      And then there was Chips, sitting perfectly at her feet, her sleek head brushing against Cat’s knee, just beneath the hem of her spring-green sundress. Cat had always thought of the Border collie as humble, elegant and well behaved. Her owner, Mark, could be seen as elegant in a dashing, roguish kind of way, but humble and well behaved he was not. Still, Cat found herself grinning at the thought of him. He had trusted her to look after Chips overnight, while he spent a couple of days in London, and promised her dinner on his return.

      She approached a couple with two Labradoodles. Cat always thought of them as the hippies of the dog world; laid-back and loping, their eyes hidden behind elaborate fringes. ‘Welcome to the Pooches’ and Puppies’ Picnic,’ she said. ‘I’m Cat. I run Pooch Promenade with my friend Polly, so please feel free to ask any questions. There’s tea, coffee and cold drinks inside the café, along with water and treats for the dogs.’

      ‘Thanks,’ the man said. He was quite short and wide, with a bright blue T-shirt and a friendly face. The woman he was with smiled at Cat, her amber eyes wide. ‘We’re not sure we need a walker for these two, but couldn’t resist popping down when we heard about it.’

      ‘We love dogs,’ the woman added. ‘It’s so lovely to see so many here all at once.’

      ‘I know!’ Cat said, unable to hide her enthusiasm. ‘It’s such a good turnout – I had no idea it would be so popular.’

      And

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