That was enough of a threat to make me call for help. ‘Buster! Felicity needs Adventure Dog! Adventure Dog to the rescue!’
Tarquin clamped a hand over my mouth and twisted me so he could look at my face.
‘What the devil are you on about, woman?’
We were three yards from the back gate to the Orion Print premises but we could have been half a mile away and we would still have been able to hear Buster’s skull collide with the wooden gate.
His thoughts filled my head. ‘I’m coming, Felicity!’
The gate bucked again. It looked old and frayed at the bottom, the lower foot or so rotting slowly from continual exposure to moisture.
‘What the heck is that?’ Tarquin demanded to know. ‘Is it a dog?’
He unlocked his car and opened the boot. I thought he was going to shove me in but instead he threw me to the ground and grabbed something from inside.
Buster’s next strike broke two panels and on the next one he broke through.
Even in the dim light of the car park, I could see the blood on his fur.
Unperturbed by whatever pain he felt, Buster barked, ‘Dun dun, DAH!’
He took a half second to assess what he could see now he was back out in the carpark, then he put his head down to charge.
Tarquin was faster.
What he’d taken from the boot of his car was a blanket. Buster ran headlong into it, tangling instantly, and the man I so badly wanted my dog to bite wrapped him up like a gift on Christmas Eve.
I screamed my horror, finally finding my voice. The high-pitched and desperate cry for help might have been heard by hundreds of people or none at all. I couldn’t tell, but whether anyone was coming to my aid or not, they couldn’t possibly get here in time because Tarquin had just pulled a wicked looking knife from his pocket.
The shiny metal flashed in the moonlight as he bore it high above his head.
I screamed again, and then I heard the voice.
‘Hey! Hey, human! I might hate that dog but he’s my dog and no one gets to beat on him but me.’
Amber was on top of the gate. Tarquin hadn’t seen her but when she landed on his face with all twenty claws extended, he sure felt her.
He made a sound like an operatic soprano being put through a woodchipper as she tore at the flesh around his eyes, lips, and nose.
For a second or two, all I could do was watch in fascinated horror. Tarquin screamed in pain and shock and let go of the blanket.
Without a person to keep him trapped in its folds, Buster burst free and bit the first thing he saw. It just happened to be Tarquin’s groin. When Buster then shook his whole body, like a crocodile trying to tear a piece of flesh from a wildebeest, Tarquin’s screams not only increased in volume, but went up at least two octaves.
I doubted I could achieve the note he managed to reach.
Galvanised into action – because this was the best chance I was going to get – I clambered to my feet.
Amber was still on his face, gouging, clawing, and biting for all she was worth and once again my heart stopped beating as I saw the knife swing upwards. It was going to gut my cat if it hit her body.
As if watching in slow motion, I saw Tarquin’s arm scythe upward. At the last second, Amber pushed off and I had to watch Tarquin stab himself in the face.
My breath caught in my chest as his hand fell away and the knife stayed there. He was trying to look at it even though it had gone into the soft tissue between his nose and his left eye.
I swear my heart didn’t bother to beat as he wobbled in place.
When he toppled backward, there was a part of me that wanted to cheer, but a bigger part that needed to cry.
Tarquin laid still. Or he would have if Buster hadn’t still been worrying the man’s groin.
‘Buster,’ I hissed. ‘Buster, stop it.’
Buster paused long enough to glance at me.
‘He’s dead, Buster. That’s enough.’
Buster spat out what he had in his mouth and licked his nose. ‘Yeah. That’s right, stupid human,’ he growled at Tarquin’s inert form. ‘You mess with the bulldog and you get me horny!’
I felt it necessary to say, ‘Um, I’m not sure you have that saying quite right.’
Buster looked at me. ‘Huh? Which bit?’
Amber said, ‘This is the part where I get a mackerel, I believe.’ She was sitting behind Buster, calmly licking a paw.
I rushed to her, sweeping her up and into my arms so I could hug her to my body. ‘Oh, Amber. Amber you were marvellous. You saved me.’
‘Yes, yes. Now where is my mackerel?’
Buster asked, ‘I still get my steak, right? I found the cat.’
Amber turned her head to squint at the dog. ‘I beg your pardon. You didn’t find me, you flea-bitten mutt. I picked up your awful dog smell the second you arrived. I came to you. Anyway, what is that awful stench?’
‘That’s me,’ I admitted. There were tears rolling down my cheeks, I was so relieved just to be alive, but my pets were here with me and they were both unharmed too.
Remembering Vince, and feeling bad that I had genuinely
