to his front door every week, except during her honeymoon when I did it.’
‘I didn’t know – that’s so good of her,’ I admit. Then I smile. ‘I hope the neighbour didn’t run off with it again.’
‘No, that seems to have settled down, although there’s a new hoo-ha now,’ Mum says, forgetting that we were talking about Ryan and me. ‘Apparently he’s been watering the flowers on his balcony so exuberantly it’s been raining down on the woman below!’
There’s a beeping noise in the background. ‘Sorry, love,’ she tells me, ‘I really do have to go. Anyway look after yourself. Cheer up and just let things lie for now with Ryan. Time will tell and after all if you still really love him, you’ll know it’s the right thing for you to get back together.’
‘Thanks, Mum. I’ll let it simmer for a while.’
I ponder my mum’s words as I drive to collect Tilly. She’s right; I don’t need to make a decision about anything for a moment. I’ll just park it all – Ryan, Jack, epilepsy meds. It can all wait.
Picking up Tilly from Jan is every bit as traumatic as I thought it would be. We try to keep it as businesslike as possible so as not to prolong the agony and I give her Bertie’s details so they can stay in touch and she can hear how Tilly has settled in. Tilly is full of beans and as her owner wipes away a tear at the front door, Tilly thinks it’s all an adventure and leaps into my car enthusiastically.
It’s only a short drive home before I arrive in the little parking lot, call Tilly out and take her rather touchingly stashed pink bag of goodies and belongings Jan has packed for her. We walk the few minutes round to Bertie’s little terraced place, with its garden chock full of hollyhocks and delphiniums.
Mavis is walking along the other side of the pavement. ‘Oh my goodness,’ she calls, ‘what a dear little dog! Is this the new inmate for Bertie?’
‘Yes,’ I reply. ‘Little Tilly is going to keep him company.’
‘She’s perfect.’ She smiles. ‘I won’t stop you. I can see Tilly’s on a mission, but I’ll come by Bertie’s tomorrow on my way to the shop and see if he wants anything.’
‘Thanks, Mavis, you’ve been a star checking in on him every time you go out.’
‘It’s a pleasure. I’m fond of him and to be honest, it’s nice to have a quick catch-up; otherwise days can go by in this lockdown and you don’t ever see a soul. Speaking of which …’ She gets a beady look in her eye that almost reminds me of Marge. ‘How’s things with you and Jack?’
‘He’s good thanks,’ I say, deliberately misunderstanding her. ‘I’ve got pretty used to him being upstairs. I can’t really remember what it was like without him.’
‘Yes it’s strange how that can happen and often when you least expect it.’ She gives me a funny little wink and wanders off towards the small parade of shops at the end of the street.
Tilly seems to have some kind of sixth sense and drags me to Bertie’s gate. His front garden earns her approval as she sniffs round the small mossy patch of lawn. The door opens and Bertie squats down on the doorstep with some difficulty, his arms stretched wide. I grab my phone from my pocket and get ready to film, before shutting the gate behind me and letting Tilly’s lead go. As I press play, she runs forward to Bertie, her tail so full of wags, it’s become a blur and she leaps with both her front paws on his chest and covers his face with kisses.
He laughs, and putting his arms round her he slowly topples backwards so that he’s sprawling on the pathway, still chuckling, which Tilly seems to take as a signal to jump on his face.
‘What a lovely dog she is then,’ he says, once he can recover himself. ‘Yes, yes plenty of fuss – that’s what you like isn’t it? Don’t like being on your own do you? Don’t blame you. Well you’ll have plenty of love and cuddles in this house, my love.’
Tilly seems to understand every word he says, wagging her brown and white tail in big swirls, effectively sweeping the path with its movement. I take some more pictures of both of them, as Bertie leads Tilly round the front little patch of garden, talking to her all the time