Page 66 of The Good Boy

“It’s—” Rory starts.

“No one,” I say, panicking. “No one. There isn’t anyone. And even if there was, I need to focus on Rory and helping him to adjust to life. So there can be no romance. Or anything of a sexual nature for me.” Textbook overexplaining Genie. “And anyway, imagine if I did have a boyfriend coming round all the time, eating all the cheese. Imagine that, Rory?”

“Maybe your perfect man is lactose-intolerant,” Rory says, more than a little bit too close to home.

“The thing is, Genie,” he says as we turn into our street, “you need to find your life’s purpose, like Nanna Maria says, and to do that you just need to say the things that you need to say. Then I will be released from your wish and can go back to being a dog.”

“The problem with Nanna Maria’s highly questionable oh-find-yourself-and-everything-will-be-fine tactic is that she assumes a person’s true self must be all la-de-da and aren’t-flowers-lovely? Well, what if your true self is quite cross and largely disappointed? What then?”

“For what it’s worth,” Miles says, “cross and disappointed isn’t who you are at all. You do a good impression of being those things, but really, anyone who really knows you, knows you are the complete opposite.”

There’s a beat of silence as I park outside our houses. And doyou know what? When he looks at me, I think maybe thereisa cheddarish glint in his eye. This gives a whole new meaning to theDirty Dancingsong “Hungry Eyes.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” I say. Okay. This is it. There’s a dog in the back, but to hell with it. I might look like cheese. The moment is now.

“Miles, what Rory wants me to say is that I—”

Just then there’s a sharp rap at the window on Miles’s side. Claudia’s pretty, heart-shaped face peers in, and she’s waving and smiling.

“Claudia?” Miles shoves Matilda in her cat cage at me and gets out of the car. “Claudia! It’s Claudia-from-work. Hi! What are you doing here?”

Matilda and I exchange a look.

“Hope you don’t mind.” Claudia beams as Miles climbs out of the car. “I knew you had a day off, and I had a day off because we were off on the same day.” She giggles. “And I thought, Well, what a coincidence! So I was just passing so I thought I’d say hi. But you weren’t in, and then suddenly there you were! It must be fate. What with us both having the same day off and everything.”

Fate my arse.

“Here I was,” Miles says stupidly as he smiles at her. God, he likes her. This is my fault. I encouraged him. I turned his indifference into positive feelings. Why am I such a good friend? Now Claudia-from-work is his cheddar?

Somehow, I clamber out of the car with the carrier containing a homicidal feline doing her best to kill me with one well-placed paw and try to look cheerful and friendly. Matilda is doing a better job.

Rory stares at Claudia with naked curiosity.

“No sniffing,” I remind him sternly.

“You’ve met my neighbor Genie over the fence,” Miles says, grinning stupidly. Claudia doesn’t take her eyes off him.

“Hi, Genie,” she says, like I’m not there.

“And I’m Rory,” Rory says, tapping her on the shoulder. When she turns to look at him her eyes widen. “You haven’t met me yet.”

“Hi, Rory,” she says, taking in his golden magnificence. I see she is one of those girls, girls that like boys and dogs that look like boys more than she likes her own kind. And before you say anything, I know it’s not cool to judge a book by its cover. And I know it’s not cool to be down on another girl because sisterhood, etc. But I am not cool. We’ve been over that already.

“It’s such a lovely afternoon,” she says. “I thought you might fancy a walk on Oliver’s Mount? I’ve got my car. And I packed a picnic. Nothing special. Just some crisps, a sandwich selection, a fresh cream Victoria sponge I made last night, and some elderflower press, but I wouldn’t mind sharing it with you.”

Just passing, huh?

“I would like to come to that,” Rory says enthusiastically. “Let’s all go!”

“That sounds nice,” Miles says. “I’d like to picnic with you, Claudia-from-work.”

“I’m also from lots of other places too.” Claudia laughs. “Surrey, originally. I live on Falsgrave Road now. You could just call me plain old Claudia, if you like.”

“Well, we must be going now,” I say, thrusting the cat carrier at Miles, who fumbles and almost drops it. It doesn’t hit the ground, but the catch must have been jiggled because the door springs open and a yowling and furious Matilda bolts out of the cage andstraight up Claudia’s bare tanned leg. She rakes her claws down Claudia’s thigh.

“Owwww!” Claudia does her best to actually scream. “Get off me you little... b... monkey!”

“I’m so sorry,” Miles tells Claudia as he disengages his livid cat, who tries to bat and scratch at Claudia even as Miles encourages her quite firmly into the cat flap, which she kicks at with an angry back paw as she storms inside. “Are you okay, Claudia?”

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