Page 54 of The Good Boy

Picking up a tennis ball that I spot shining in the long grass, I hurl it as far as I can. Then, like everyone else in the pack, I raceafter it. For a few brief seconds I feel like I am flying down the hill, my hair whipping behind me, the sea air blasting into my face. It’s exhilarating, it’s hilarious, it’s ridiculous andwonderful.

Before I know it Sally has joined us, and is diving on the ball before Lucy the labradoodle can, whooping with joy as she throws it in another direction. Off we all go again, half feral, half mad, and 100 percent happy. Aida claps and shouts encouragement from the sidelines, while Pete eventually subsides into silence, his hands on his hips as a couple of kids with a football get in the middle, and suddenly this is a game of two halves and two balls.

Then my body remembers that usually the most exercise it does is standing; my knees buckle and I fall into the soft grass, entirely out of puff, as I roll onto my back and assume the snow-angel position.

“I’m tapping out!” I gasp to anyone who will listen. “I don’t think I’ve run about so much since Year five PE!”

Miles sits down next to me, a bead of sweat tracking down his neck.

“You make me laugh, Genie,” he says, very solemn.

“I do, don’t I?” I say.

“All the time,” Miles says with that small smile.

He lies back on the grass beside me, and just for a moment there is nothing but the blue sky overhead and heat coming off Miles’s body, which is inches from mine. It would be so easy just to roll over and plant a kiss on his beautiful mouth. But even though terrible choices are my specialty, for once I hold back. He’s going to say yes to Claudia.

“I’m out too,” Sally says, puffing, flopping down next to me, wiping away the glimmer of perspiration from her forehead. “Ithink we can all learn a lot from your lodger. What’s his name, by the way?”

“Rory,” I say.

“Like your dog?” She laughs.

“Yeah, but with an...i.”

“Well, I think we can learn a lot from Rory with ani. I never really thought about joining in with the playing instead of just watching... It was... magical.”

“Did you have fun, Genie?” Rory crashes down, grinning from ear to ear, as one by one the other dogs come and join him, including Sheba and Darth, sitting around us, panting. Stiffly Pete approaches with a collapsible dog bowl and fills it with water. All the dogs partake.

“You know what? I did,” I say. “How about you?”

“Yeah, this is good,” Rory says. “I realized not everything has to change. Sometimes I can even be mostly dog again.”

“I am worried about Darth and Sheba,” Sally says under her breath. “Pete was pretty cross when you freed them.”

“You aren’t really mad, are you?” I ask Pete.

“What you just did was highly irresponsible,” Pete tells me. “Dogs racing around in a pack. Anything could have happened.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I say. “But it was my fault. You won’t take it out on Darth and Sheba, will you?”

“I’m not a monster, Genie,” Pete says. “A dog is only ever as good as its owner. Or its owner’s casual and questionable acquaintance. Now, Darth, Sheba, come here. You look like you both need a dip in the pool to cool down.”

Pete waits as the dogs trot over and then ruffles each behind their ears, kissing them on the tops of their heads in turn.

“Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” I hear him say as they walk away. “Genie’s as mad as a box of frogs, though.”

If he only knew.

“Oh yeah, don’t worry,” Rory says. “Darth says Pete’s all bark and no bite. When he gets home and gets on his fluffy slippers, he’s sweetness and light.”

“You got all that from body language?” Sally laughs. “Are you sure you’re not a dog psychic?”

“A what?” Rory asks.

“I was telling Sally that you understand dog psychology really well.”

“Oh yeah,” Rory says. “No, I’m not psychic or anything, I just listen to what they tell me. Dogs, humans. Most of the time they just want to be heard.”

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