Angus could barely contain his excitement. “Bertie!” he said.
“Would you be able to help me find that dog? Would you?”
“Of course,” said Bertie. “I can show you where he lives. But you’ll have to ask my mother if I’m allowed.”
“I most certainly shall,” said Angus. “Oh, Bertie, you excellent boy! You have no idea what this means to me.”
“That’s all right, Mr Lordie,” said Bertie. “And I’m glad that you’re happy again.”
“Happy?” exclaimed Angus. “I’m ecstatic!”
“I’ve just had the most extraordinary conversation,” said Angus, as he entered Domenica’s flat. “I met that funny little boy from down below. He was sitting on one of the stairs, like Christopher Robin, his head bowed, looking utterly miserable.”
“It’s his mother,” said Domenica. “She’s a frightful woman.
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She’s always banging on about Melanie Klein and the like, while all that poor wee Bertie wants to do is to have a normal boyhood. He’s mad keen on trains, I believe, but she, of course, thinks that his time is better spent in yoga lessons. Yoga lessons! I ask you, Angus. What six-year-old boy wants to do yoga?”
“There might be some,” mused Angus. “In these ashrams, or whatever. Some of the monks are tiny – young boys, really.”
“Those are Buddhists,” said Domenica. “You really should get your facts right, Angus. Buddhists meditate – there are some Buddhist schools of yoga, but generally the Buddhists don’t turn themselves inside out.”
“Well, be that as it may,” said Angus. “I had a conversation with young Bertie, and he came up with an extraordinary story about some game of doctors and nurses that he had been involved in. But then . . .” he paused for effect; Domenica was watching him closely. “But then he revealed that he knew the dog who had done the biting with which Cyril is charged. And he says that he can show me where he lives!”
Domenica clapped her hands together. “What a relief! You’ve been like a bear with a sore head since Cyril was arrested, Angus.
It will be a great relief to have you back with us again.”
“And what about Cyril’s feelings?” asked Angus peevishly.
“Aren’t you pleased for his sake?”
“Of course I am,” said Domenica soothingly. “Nobody wants the innocent to suffer.”
“So all we have to do is to explain to the police that it was this other dog – whoever he is – who did it, and they’ll release Cyril.”
Domenica frowned. It would not necessarily be so simple, she thought. One could hardly get the fiscal to drop proceedings just because somebody – and an interested party at that –
explains that he thinks that another dog is to blame. No, they would have to be more convincing than that.
“We’ll need to think about this,” she said to Angus. “We can’t just barge in and expect to get Cyril out. We must marshal our
facts. We must prepare our case, and then, at the right moment, we produce the real culprit from a hat – metaphorically speaking, of course.”
Angus nodded his agreement to this. He was convinced now that Cyril would be exculpated, and he did not mind if the process required some planning and thought. In fact, he was quite willing to leave all this to Domenica; she was so forceful, he thought, she would be a very powerful ally for Cyril in the campaign to establish his innocence.
“Whatever you say, Domenica,” Angus said. “Cyril and I are quite content to leave our fate in your hands.”
They moved through to the kitchen, where Domenica prepared a cup of coffee for them both. Then she turned and addressed Angus with the air of one about to make an important statement. “Angus,” she began, “don’t you find that there are times when everything seems to be happening at once?
When, for some reason, life seems speeded up?”
“Most certainly,” said Angus. “And do you think we are in such a time right now?”
“It seems a little bit like that to me,” said Domenica. “Here I am, back from the Malacca Straits. No sooner have I returned than Antonia announces her intention of becoming my neighbour on a permanent basis. Not that she asked me, mind you.
I’ve always thought that one should ask one’s neighbours before one gets too firmly settled in.”
“Impossible,” said Angus. “Neighbours are given to us on the same basis as we are given our families. There is no element of choice involved – none at all.”
“Is there not?” asked Domenica. “Well what about Ann Street? I was under the impression that the people who live in Ann Street will buy up any house that comes on the market in order to make sure that it doesn’t end up in the wrong hands.”
“Nonsense,” said Angus. “That really is an ancient canard, Domenica. People have been saying that about Ann Street for years. But it’s complete nonsense. It’s a very inclusive street.
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They’re terrifically accepting.”
