Page 20 of A Season in the Snow
‘Um, three months. Well, nearly four months.’
‘Sweet. Come on then, Rufus, let’s get you home. See you around.’ And with that the woman smiled and walked away.
‘Bye,’ Alice called, embarrassed at her lack of sociability. ‘Bye, Rufus,’ she added to the dachshund.
Bear watched them go, sniffing at the air, curious to explore the smells of this new park. ‘Let’s walk then,’ Alice said, pulling her cap back down a little lower.
‘Wow, that’s a cool dog,’ a little boy said, stopping in his tracks in front of Alice and Bear. Alice stood stock still but managed a smile, and the boy’s mum ushered him around them.
As they looped the park everybody wanted to say hi, or comment on Bear’s markings, or say how cute he was, or ask to stroke him, or ask if he was a St Bernard. Alice was picking up speed, praying with each new person – was the park always this busy? – that they would leave her alone. How could people be walking around so carefree, talking about dogs and chatting to strangers, when only three weeks ago there was this tragedy in the city? When their friends or colleagues or commuter buddies had died? Why didn’t they care? All she wanted to ask anybody who stopped her was, had they been there too?
Her senses on hyper vigilance, Alice sensed the man before she saw him.
Maybe she heard his running shoes on the grass, maybe she heard the faint music emitting from his headphones, but she gasped and stumbled to the side pulling Bear with her. She squeezed her eyes shut, and covered her head with her free arm.
The runner slowed to a stop after he passed her, pulling out his headphones and facing her. ‘Hey,’ he said, wiping sweat from his eyes. ‘You okay?’
Alice opened her eyes, ashamed at her vulnerability. He was just out jogging. He was just a guy. Still, she struggled to form any words and reached her fingers into Bear’s fur, breathing fast.
The man looked at her for a moment. ‘Hey, boy,’ he said to Bear. ‘You looking after your owner?’
‘Sorry,’ Alice whispered.
‘Don’t apologise, I’m sorry if I scared you running up behind you. Sometimes I get so lost in myGreatest Showmansoundtrack I forget about other people’s personal space.’
Alice met his eyes, surprised, and laughed a little despite herself.
‘I’m not actually joking,’ he said, showing her his phone. ‘Anyway, can I get you anything?’
‘No,’ she said, still feeling Bear’s fur. ‘Thank you, though. I’m just a bit . . . on edge.’
‘I totally get it.’
Did he get it? Was he at the concert?
‘Puppies are a pain in the arse but we get so protective over them. So I get it. At least he’ll grow into a great bodyguard for you. Take care of yourself.’
And with a wave and a smile, he jogged away, easy as that.
He didn’t get it.
Back at the flat, Alice closed the door behind her with a sigh. She would have to face that again, and again, and again. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken on the dog. Maybe they’d all been right.
Everyone in the park had been nice, she was aware of that. She was aware of the effect this silly great puppy had on people even before any of this had happened – she’d gone with Jill on her first outdoor walk with Bear and it had been exactly the same. People hadn’t changed; she had.
Bear plodded through her flat like he owned the place after only one day, and went to have a drink. Alice stood in her living room, then wandered to the kitchen, then wandered to the bedroom. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. What would she normally be doing on a Sunday at home?
Making a cup of tea, she went back to her sofa and opened her laptop. Social media, her emails, it all seemed fruitless, a combination of a waste of effort and too much effort to even try. Closing her laptop, she hunkered down on the sofa, soon to be joined by Bear who was ready for a snooze, and she put the TV on for background noise.
She wasn’t going to try, not today.
