Dolly poured herself a large brandy. ‘Want one, Shirl?’
‘No thanks, Dolly. I do need to talk to you about something, though.’
‘Go on girl. What is it — something wrong?’ Dolly asked. Just then the phone rang twice and stopped. ‘Hang on a sec, Shirl...’ Dolly held her hand up. A second later the phone rang again. This time she picked it up.
The person on the other end was clearly telling her a long tale. Eventually, Dolly said, ‘Shirley’s flight was canceled, so she’ll be with you a bit later than planned. Nothing at all to worry about. Have a nice holiday, love... yes, yes, everything’s fine here.’ Dolly put the phone down. ‘That was Linda. She’s through passport control and will be in the air soon. Everything’s going to be—’ As Dolly turned back to Shirley, she saw the cut from where Eddie’s ring had dug into her beautiful skin, and the bruise now developing around it.
Slamming her brandy glass down on the telephone table, Dolly moved quickly to Shirley. ‘Dear God, girl, what happened to you?’ she asked as she sat down and took hold of Shirley’s shaking hand.
‘Someone broke in...’ Shirley stuttered. ‘They wanted to know where the money was...’
Dolly looked worried. ‘You saw him?’
Shirley nodded.
‘You know him? Did he hurt you, darlin’?’
Shirley shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘The money. Did he take the money?’
Shirley looked up at Dolly. ‘No, it’s still in your car.’
Dolly’s whole manner changed. She toughened up and, in an instant, was back to her usual self. ‘How the hell did he get in? Did you let him in?’
‘No! He broke in through your French doors at the back.’
The telephone rang three times and went silent, then two seconds later it rang again and Dolly picked up. Two rings for Linda, three rings for Bella — that was the code they’d agreed. Bella was also about to board her plane and was checking to see if everything was OK with Dolly. ‘Everything’s fine. Shirley didn’t catch her plane because of her swollen ankle. She’s with me and will be flying out in a couple of days. Have a nice time.’ Dolly replaced the phone before Bella could ask any more questions and poured herself another brandy.
Shirley turned to Dolly. ‘I swear I’ve never seen him before, Dolly! He just came at me and then he kicked...’ Still Shirley couldn’t get it out. She bent her head and covered her face.
Dolly sat down next to her again and put her hand on Shirley’s knee. ‘All right, love, just calm down and we’ll go over it all. Here, have a sip of my brandy.’ Dolly took Shirley’s hands and cupped them round the crystal glass. ‘You settle your nerves. I’ll nip and let Wolf out before he waters the plants for me.’
Shirley had to say something before Dolly got to the lounge door. ‘I’m sorry, Dolly. I’m so sorry.’ Dolly paused. ‘He was protecting me from the man. He bit him and — I didn’t see exactly, but Wolf was right in the middle of all the scuffling, biting and barking, and then...’ Shirley broke down in tears. Dolly’s reaction was like nothing Shirley had ever seen from her before. She looked like a lost and frightened child.
‘Please tell me he’s all right.’ Dolly nervously picked at a thread of loose cotton on the seam of her trousers; all she could do was stare at Shirley. ‘Where is he?’
‘I put him in his basket,’ Shirley said, broken-voiced.
Shirley followed Dolly into the kitchen and watched as she knelt beside the motionless little dog. She picked up his limp body, held him close and nursed him in her arms. He was still warm as Dolly nuzzled his neck. Her voice was filled with grief. ‘Oh, my little darlin’, my poor little darlin’.’
Dolly took two or three minutes to say goodbye to Wolf, while Shirley stood silently in the kitchen doorway. When the moment was right, Dolly visibly seemed to stiffen; her whole body went rigid, her mouth hard and tight. She gently put Wolf down in his basket and stroked his head. Then she got up, opened a drawer and took out a lace table cloth, which she laid out on the kitchen floor. She gently wrapped the cloth round Wolf’s body, like a baby at a christening. She picked him up and turned to Shirley.
‘Bury him in the garden, in his basket, with his bowls and leads as well. Anything you see belonging to him gets buried with him.’ Dolly kissed Wolf’s head, handed him to Shirley and picked up her car keys.
‘Where are you going, Dolly? Please don’t leave me on my own,’ Shirley pleaded.
‘I’ve got things to do, but I won’t be long. We’ll leave the country together in a day or so. There’s no reason for me to stay now, not with my baby gone. Close the garage doors for me after I’ve left.’
Dolly was out of the kitchen door and in the garage before Shirley could ask her anything else. She limped over to the basket, put Wolf in it, followed by his dog bowl and lead, and then carried everything out to the garden.
As she opened the garage doors and stood by her car, Dolly couldn’t stop herself. The inner pain and numbing grief was just like the day her baby boy was stillborn in the hospital. Harry wasn’t with her at the time — he’d been away on ‘business’ — and she’d been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance with stomach pains. It was weeks before her due date. Dolly could remember the kind midwife handing her over the still-warm body of her dead son. He was beautiful. His pale skin was perfect and, as she put her little finger in his hand, she sobbed her heart out. She was so proud of her little boy for trying so hard; he’d done so well to make it that far and she thanked him for the time they shared. She told him that he had his dad’s features and that she was so very sad not to have known him for longer. The pain of her loss was compounded by having to lie in a ward filled with other women who gently cradled their newborns.
At the time, Dolly hadn’t known how she would tell Harry when he eventually turned up at the hospital. He had been so happy when she fell pregnant; their love had grown even stronger and he had been so affectionate, promising to take great care of them both. He’d been immensely proud at the prospect of being a father — especially to a son — and in many ways Dolly was more upset for Harry than herself. She longed to give Harry everything he desired; she loved him so very much. She’d sensed the moment he’d arrived at the hospital; even before he walked through the doors to the maternity ward, she knew he was there.
She dreaded telling him the heart-breaking news but, as he walked through the swing doors and onto the ward, she knew from the look of sadness in his eyes that the doctor had already told him. Harry was never one freely to show emotion, but he did that day. They wept together and they held each other so tight that Dolly could still remember the feel of Harry’s strong arms round her shoulders. She also remembered his voice as he whispered in her ear... ‘Never again Dolly. I can’t lose any more.’ And that was the moment that her hopes of a family disappeared.
When she and Harry returned home, he didn’t go into work for weeks. He waited on her hand and foot until she was physically well again, bringing trays of food and drink to her bedside and even doing the housework — sort of.
Dolly leaned her head against the roof of her car as she recalled how Harry had helped her deal with their tragic loss — the day he had come home with a tiny white bundle of fur and gently placed him on her lap.
‘I think we should call him Wolf,’ Harry had said with a loving smile. But his eyes had a different message. His eyes said: ‘This is an end to it. This is your baby. Subject closed.’ He wasn’t being unkind; he was being practical. Their lives had to get back to how they were and that couldn’t happen with all the sadness and mourning in the air. Life goes on.