‘Adventure comes with risk, darling. No one died.’ Flo said trying to pin down exactly why these things were her fault and to block out the fact the vet had said putting Captain George under at his advanced age did come with added risks.
‘They weren’t fun, Mum,’ Jennifer ground out. ‘Not in any way. None of us enjoyed being dragged around so you could get an adrenaline rush. Not me. Not Jamie. Not Dad. You never saw it though. The nanny, or should I say nannies, saw it. The cleaners saw it! Dad saw it. But not you. Oblivious Flo intent on doing things her way, no matter the consequences!’
‘Jennifer, you’re being ridiculous. I’m hardly a tyrant!’
‘No,’ Jennifer said after a moment’s breathing (counting down from ten as instructed in some team-building exercise no doubt). ‘You weren’t a tyrant. You were just selfish.’
Jennifer gave her a look then began to study a packet of weight loss food for cats with a concentrated fury.
‘If you’ll remember, Jennifer, I’m doing this ride for charity.’
Flo didn’t feel on stable ground here. Even less so when Jennifer barked a ha! Then asked, ‘Which one?’
‘LifeTime.’
‘Okay, okay,’ she nodded intently as if trying to explain to a simpleton why having an excess of middle-management positions was a bad thing, ‘… so who’s the person you’re doing it for? And don’t you dare say Dad, because where I’m sitting, he’s the only sane one of the two of you.’
‘Oh, I uh—’ She’d not really got that far.
Jennifer’s eyebrows went up and her grim expression turned a bit too self-satisfied for Flo’s liking. ‘You’re doing it for yourself, aren’t you?’
‘I’m doing it for people who need comfort dogs,’ Flo said, a bit more majestically than intended. She wasn’t, but the walls were covered in pictures of people hugging their successfully healed cats and dogs and it was the first thing that had come to mind.
‘Comfort dogs?’ Jennifer clearly wasn’t going to let this fly. ‘Who do you know who uses a comfort dog, Mum?’
‘I – well – your father, for one. Your father loves Captain—’
‘No, Mum,’ Jennifer cut in. ‘You love Captain George. Dad loves cats.’
What?
‘But did you even for a second consider getting him a cat? No. Because you wanted your precious Wolfhounds. So as usual, dad didn’t say anything to make you happy because he knew you loved the dogs more than you ever loved us. You exhaust us, Mum. Squeeze us dry. Why the hell do you think Jamie lives in Australia?’
‘Jennifer! That’s not – of course, I—’ And then, with unsettling clarity, Flo realised Jennifer was right. But not for the reasons she thought. Children were so … needy! And dismissive. They’d always preferred a cuddle in Stu’s comfortable lap to hers. His story telling. The way he cut apples. Jennifer had always been so disapproving. Even as a little girl. Honestly, who cared if a sandwich was cut into triangles or rectangles? George didn’t. But Jennifer? Oh, Jennifer cared. Whereas Captain George … the love they shared was completely based on mutual admiration.
Before she could come up with a proper line of self-defence, Flo’s phone vibrated in the pocket of her cycling jersey (her one concession to cycling wear). ‘Work call,’ Flo mouthed, making a show of putting on a very serious face as she took it. She still had yet to tell Jennifer or Stu her ‘rota blip’ at the 111 centre was permanent. ‘Florence Wilson,’ she said.
‘Flo?’ A timorous female voice asked.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Sue, here. Sue Young from the call centre?’
‘Sue! Yes. Hello, Sue. What can I do for you?’ Flo asked pointedly, making it clear to Jennifer that despite having been tarred and feathered as Britain’s very own Joan Crawford, she was actually, an exceedingly thoughtful and helpful person who many people relied upon.
‘I was ringing to see whether or not we might meet.’
‘Yes, duck, yes, of course.’ Flo covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered, ‘This poor woman. Her husband hung himself a few weeks ago.’
Jennifer’s jaw tightened as if to say ‘There’s always someone more interesting than me.’
‘Raven and I were hoping to talk to you about the charity ride.’
‘The cycle ride for LifeTime? Which I am riding in aid of people who require therapy dogs?’ She gave Jennifer a pointed look she hoped translated as See? Not so selfish after all.
‘We’d like to go but, we just had a few questions before, you know, committing.’
‘Brilliant. Wonderful. Such a good cause. Why don’t we meet for coffee?’ Oh, this was cracking good news. Now she had an actual reason for going on the ride. As a support to Sue and Raven who were clearly going through complicated emotional issues far beyond the realms of angry adult children throwing a childlike sense of adventure and delight in your face.
After deciding upon the where and when, the vet appeared with a wobbly Captain George wearing a support sling. Unlike Jennifer when she’d appeared from behind the A&E curtain with a freshly plastered arm, George began to wag his tail and grin in his lovely, toothsome way. Flo dropped to her knees and gave him a cuddle, ignoring the ‘where Flo goes, trouble follows’ looks she knew her daughter was sending her as she told him again and again just how very much she loved him.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Raven held her phone out at arm’s length. ‘Here … tip your head a bit more …’ Sue’s blonde head bobbed into view, out again and then, after she scooched her bike a bit closer to Raven’s, became fully visible. ‘There we are. One … two … three … ping! All done.’ She scrolled for Flo’s number, then sent the picture along with a ‘Hope there are bikes in Portugal!’ message.
‘Shall
