Page 52 of One Summer

Maybe not for a while yet. I’m still sorting things out. Lots to do.

But you have your own fully furnished beach house, right? Once you’ve unpacked, you’re all set.

Not exactly…

Why?

It’s a long story.

Are you lonely yet?

I have a LOT of animals keeping me company.

I thought there were three?

More, plus a dog and a tortoise.

I miss you. The office is not the same without you.

I miss you too.

I think even Scotty misses you.

Scotty misses having someone to shout at.

He has me for that. Let me know when I can visit, and I’ll be there like a shot. Just say the word, OK?

Let me settle in a bit and I’ll be in touch, I promise. X

Forty-Eight

Whistler

I won’t be in touch. I can’t let Henny see me living here.

I go back to my sweaty sleeping bag, to toss and turn all night, waking up on the hour, and then on the half-hour. Eventually, 4 a.m. arrives and the sea gulls that nest on the roof begin to protest the dawn with increasingly angry squawks.

I let myself outside, hoping that the fresh air will soothe me. And I realise straight away that my mysterious neighbour is out here too, sitting on the balcony, because I can’t see anything above the wall.

They appear to be watching or listening to what sounds like… but surely can’t be… a dog groomer in action. Are there TV shows about grooming dogs? Filmed in – what seems like, at least – real time? I like dogs as much as the next person, but I’m not sure I’d want to watch one having a wash and blow-dry, and a toe-clipping.

The groomer seems to be tackling a very vocal husky, judging by the wailing and howling. The air is so still, and the volume so loud, that I can hear every word the narrator says. She talks her viewers through the entire grooming process, step by step, from the initial inspection of the dog to the multiple shampoos, conditioning treatments, high velocity blow-drying, de-matting and brushing. At the very end, she sprays the dog with canine cologne. When it’s clear the video is over, I look up to try to catch a glance at the watcher, but instead of standing up and looking over the balcony, they simply load up another video. I hear everything as a Belgian Shepherd is introduced. It’s showered, and the groomer tells the viewer that it’s ‘blowing a vast amount of undercoat’ and creating a ‘furnado’ – which I make a mental note to google, because that does sound like something I’d want to see.

Surely the watcher is going to go inside now? But no, another video starts, featuring two Malshi puppies, which I learn from the narrator are Maltese-Shih Tzu crosses.

I’m intrigued. Who watches dog-grooming videos at 4 a.m.?

Since I’m in the grip of insomnia, I go inside to make tea, and grab my notebook and pencils, in case I’m taken by the desire to sketch out some designs for jewellery, and when I come back out, the person is still there, still watching. How many dog-grooming videos can one person watch in a single sitting?

The dog groomer is now busy at work on a three-legged Pomeranian. Could the watcher have fallen asleep, and the videos be auto-playing? But I don’t hear any sounds of a person sleeping and I’ve definitely heard throat clearing, as if a person is awake – a person really gripped by grooming.

I expected there to be a few cranks on the island, but I hadn’t expected this particular brand of odd. Still, it takes all types to make a world. Maybe I should go over to meet my new neighbour, tell them I’ve just moved in. Ask to beg a cup of sugar. Get on friendly terms with whoever they are, in case of emergency if nothing else.

But I won’t do that. The mere idea of it fills me with anxiety.

When I’ve finished a few sketches – almost all of a peacock wearing a top hat, rather than anything jewellery related – and drained my mug of tea, I go back to bed.

It must be near seven o’clock when I finally fall into a deep sleep. I’m dreaming of being on holiday with Max in a Venice where everyone has the stringy limbs of Giacometti sculptures, when I’m pulled out of my nightmare by rhythmic banging on the door.

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