Follow My Lead Episode 20
Three hours later she emerged from the cinema’s cosy darkness to do battle with the city crowds and traffic once again.
It was an odd sensation to arrive at her old office.
She halted at the foot of the steps, and scrabbled in her bag for a mirror to check her hair and make-up.
Then, unconsciously squaring her shoulders, she ran up the steps and grasped the door handle.
It didn’t budge, and the penny dropped – she didn’t have access any more.
She was laughing at herself as she pressed the intercom buzzer.
“It’s Lydia Cooke to see Basil – sorry, Barry Illingworth.”
He’d always been “Basil” to her. She’d forgotten it was a nickname.
The door hummed then clicked, and she pushed through into the foyer.
It was a typically airy, corporate space of high ceilings, polished floors and extravagant potted plants.
The receptionist languidly waved a hand to indicate that she should take a seat.
However, she barely had time to sink on to one of the leather couches before the nearby lift pinged and Basil got out.
She sprang up to greet him, a smile on her lips and her hand raised in greeting.
She froze mid-wave. Had he forgotten?
Poor Basil looked absolutely shell-shocked.
Danielle’s day unrolled according to its familiar schedule.
She had three canine companions for the morning walk, and she ambled along the woodland path, her thoughts flittering lightly like the leaves in the breeze.
They landed for a moment on Stu. She hadn’t seen him or his van around much lately.
It was a busy time of year for him. He always seemed to be on his way to or from seeing a client.
That thought made her smile as she recalled Lydia’s cheerful departure this morning.
She’d sought Danielle’s approval on at least three changes of outfit!
She’d been so excited about a day in the city and her “date” with Basil.
“It’s not a real date, but you never know. We’ve always been good friends,” was what she’d said.
This animated Lydia was more like the Lydia she had always known. It was good to see after the last four weeks.
When she’d first arrived, Lydia had been a shadow of her livewire godmother.
“No, you don’t!” A dog had come full pelt out of the undergrowth and was picking a squabble with Ollie. “That’s enough!”
She waded in and managed to get a hand on the collars of both dogs, pulling them apart.
The offender wriggled and protested, but Danielle was having none of it.
“Quiet!” she demanded, her eyes running over Ollie for injuries.
“Don’t talk to my dog like that! Let him go!”
Indignation vibrated in the voice approaching from behind her.
Danielle bit back her instinctive retort and took a breath.
“Is this your dog? He’s just attacked my dog. I think he might have bitten him.”
Ollie was whimpering and licking at his hind quarters.
The woman’s bluster deflated at once.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Here, give him to me while you check your little chap over.”
As Danielle examined Ollie for a wound, she could hear the woman giving her dog a good talking-to, which in any other circumstances would have made her smile.
“You’re a bully,” she scolded. “Picking on a dog smaller than you. I expect better of you, Simon.”
She turned to Danielle.
“I do apologise. Can I give you my details? I’ll be more than happy to meet any vet’s bills.”
“I appreciate that. He’s not my dog, but I’ll pass your offer on to his owner. I’m sure they’ll be grateful.”
And furious, she added to herself.
Besides concern for the little dog, she couldn’t ignore the secondary worry that this was the last thing she needed with a rival steadily encroaching on her business.
Cutting their walk short, she ushered the dogs back to her van, where she was able to get a better look at Ollie.
It wasn’t as bad as she’d feared – a nip rather than a whole-hearted bite.
“Poor Ollie. Let’s put ointment on it.” Some salve from her first-aid kit seemed to soothe him. “Come on, then. Time to go home and face the music.”
To say the family weren’t happy was an understatement. Not that she could blame them.
“I’ve applied some salve,” she told them, “and my insurance will cover the vet’s bill, although I also have the other owner’s details. She offered to pay, too.”
“Thank you. That’s helpful.” Husband and wife exchanged a look.
The wife hitched Ollie further into her arms.
“I know it could have been a lot worse, and you’ve done as much as you could, but . . .”
Here it comes, Danielle thought.
“. . . all things considered, I think it’s time we tried another dog-walking service.”
Danielle could see past her to the hall table, where Padding A-Round’s colourful leaflet poked out from a small pile of mail.
Once home, she went straight to her diary.
“Another one,” she muttered, scoring through Ollie’s schedule.
Her eyes stung and the lines of writing and scorings-out blurred.
She closed the book and stared out of the window at the little garden, so carefully tended. At her van with its proud signage. Around her at the bungalow she adored.
The way things were going, she could lose it all.