Page 14 of The Good Boy

“Oh,” I say. I’m fairly sure I am being insulted. “Well, if only more men could be loyal, open, and honest like dogs.”

“Human communication is so complicated,” Rory says, watching us, bemused. “I’m used to just sniffing a butt, and, bob’s your uncle, I have a new best friend. No wonder humans are always smelling so stressed.”

“Do not sniff anyone’s butt, dog, human, or otherwise,” I instruct him.

“Is there anywhere else where Nanna Maria might be?” Miles asks me. “A coven, perhaps, or a satanic cult?”

“Nanna Maria is many things,” I say, “but she isn’t a joiner. Maybe my mum will know? Come on, we can walk it from here—get Rory a bit of exercise.”

“Are we going to Granny Rita’s?” Rory hops along in excitement at the news. “Can I have a biscuit? Can I have two biscuits?”

“If Granny Rita has anything to do with it you will get the whole packet,” I tell him.

Rory yips with joy, and other people who are not trapped inside this surreal nightmare don’t give us a second glance. Because one of the good things about Scarborough in the summertime is that there is an awful lot of day drinking.

Chapter Seven

“Hello, love, happy birthday!” Mum says, opening the front door. She engulfs me in a big hug, and I lean into it hard. There is nothing like a hug from my mum; it’s the safest place on Earth. She looks at Rory hopping from one foot to the other, then at Miles.

“Hello, Miles, love, how’s it going at the museum?”

“Brilliant, we’ve been working on this new dinosaur footprint find in Cayton Bay, top secret obviously. Totally fascinating,” Miles replies enthusiastically.

“Well then, Genie.” Mum looks at me. “Don’t just stand there, bring your fellas in.”

“They are not my fellas,” I say, ushering the men in before me.

“Hi, Granny Rita, I love you!” Rory says, hugging Mum so powerfully that she yelps, frowns, looks at me, and rolls her eyes. You are not telling me that Mum has worked this all out already in fifteen seconds flat?

“You cocked up the wish, did you?” Mum asks, as I nod at Miles to follow Rory into the kitchen, where he is sitting cross-legged on the floor pointing his whole body at the biscuit cupboard. Mum goes to the back door and opens it. I can see Dad at the bottom of the garden digging in his vegetable patch.

“Genie didn’t follow the rules!” she calls down to him.

“No change there, then,” he says, before waving me a cheery hello.

“Hi, Dad! Love you!” I close the back door and turn back to Mum. “You knew about the wish thing and you didn’t warn me it was real?”

“Yes, dear, I knew about the wish thing,” Mum says, eyeing Rory. “I’ll be honest—I always thought it wasn’t so much wishes coming true as nice coincidences. After all, Mum does like to be dramatic and mysterious. But I thought it was safer not to take a chance. Still, you wishing Rory was a human has cleared that up once and for all. Bit of a weird one, though, if you don’t mind me saying?”

“Yes! I know!” I say. “It was an accident. I was just saying to Rory that if you thought he was a human you’d all stop worrying about me being lonely and sad—which I am not, by the way—and let me get on with my life. And it happened to be midnight. And then that happened.”

I gesture at Rory, who is wiggling on his behind a little bit closer to the biscuit cupboard, looking at Mum hopefully, and then at the cupboard and back again.

“Granny Rita, I love you. Can I have a biscuit, please?” Rory asks.

“Oh, Genie,” Mum sighs as she smiles at him, “what have you done?”

“I was not given the appropriate health and safety regulations!” I protest.

“Nanna Maria has been telling you for your whole life that she is magic, and that the women of our family are supposed to have magical powers. I heard her go through the rules of the wish with you. You didn’t listen, did you?”

“I listened,” I say with a shrug. “Just not to what she was saying.”

“Human or dog biscuit for Rory?” Mum asks.

“Human, I suppose,” I say.

“Rory,” Mum tells him, “so you know that now you are human you can have a chocolate biscuit?”

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