A Dog Called Jack Page 3

  “Not that smart,” said Teddy without missing a beat.

  “Ouch,” said Sam. “You wound me. There was a time when that would have answered any question you had.”

  Teddy looked steadily at Sam with his blue-green eyes, and Teddy actually looked nothing like Sara at first glance, but sometimes Sam saw her in the tilt of Teddy’s head and the weight of his stare when he was asking more of Sam.

  Sam admitted, “I don’t know. I just have a really good feeling.” Teddy looked at Sam for a moment longer without speaking, and Sam tried to discern what he was thinking, but Teddy could be secretive about his emotions when he wanted to be. All Sam really knew was that Teddy said softly, “What was your adventure today?”

  And Sam interpreted that as an olive branch. He said immediately, “Today my adventure was dropping a box of books directly on my toe and managing not to break it.”

  “Is it swollen and purple and disgusting?” Teddy asked. “Did the nail fall off?”

  “No,” said Sam.

  “That was another bad adventure,” Teddy said. “Why do you only ever come up with bad adventures?”

  “Hey, my toe didn’t break—I count that as a win,” said Sam. “What was your adventure today?”

  Teddy considered, then said, “I met a dog.”

  Sam was relieved to have Teddy engaging with him but surprised by his adventure. “Oh. I did, too. Where did you meet your dog?” He was curious about when this had happened, because Teddy had spent the entire day sulking in the back garden.

  “In the back garden,” said Teddy.

  Sam supposed he should have expected that. He wondered if it was the old man’s dog. “How’d it get into the back garden?” asked Sam.

  “The fences are kind of a mess. You probably never looked at them because you never go outside.”

  “I go outside sometimes,” Sam said automatically, even though it was fair of Teddy to point out that Sam’s more usual pursuits were all indoor pursuits. He automatically added fix fences to his mental to-do list of unexpected problems he had encountered during moving that day. As if the electrics and the damp hadn’t been enough to deal with. “So what happened to the dog?”

  “I don’t know. It went away somewhere.”

  “Through the broken fence?”

  Teddy nodded, focused on his pizza. “Don’t worry. It was a nice dog. It wasn’t mean or anything. It was basically the best part about today.”

  Sam supposed that was a point in favor of Crotchety Neighbor and His Dog.

  * * *

  Jack had a good sense of time. Bill often thought that Jack had a better sense of time than most of the people Bill knew these days, who showed up whenever they felt like it and thought nothing of making you wait while they stared at their phones for a little while longer. But Jack was never late for dinner. Jack was dependable.

  Bill let Jack in when he arrived and said, “How was your day, then? Did you learn what you needed to about the new neighbors? I see you didn’t bother their plastic flamingo, and you really could have; that would have been no great loss. You could have chewed it up, just a tad.”

  Jack kept his head down, snuffling in the food. Jack was a dog with a good appetite. Bill approved. And he should have known better than to try to start a serious conversation about the flamingo when Jack was in the middle of dinner.

  Bill left Jack in the kitchen and walked down the hallway to the front door, where he checked to make sure the bolt had been thrown, just as he did every night. Then he walked to the window in the lounge and looked out on the street. Just checking up on whatever madness happened to be underway. It was quiet, actually, now that the neighbors had moved in and the workers had departed. The Indian woman who lived down the street was just coming home. One of the cats from the Polish family’s house was slinking through the front garden.

  Bill twitched the curtains closed and turned away from the street. Jack, apparently done with dinner, came into the lounge, tail wagging happily.

  “Well, Jack,” Bill said. “I suppose it’s telly for us. As usual. Let’s see if we can find anything worth watching.”

  * * *

  The movers who had handled the large pieces of furniture had set up the beds Sam had bought, so he and Teddy at least had somewhere to sleep.

  The beds were not made, as Sam had no idea where the bed things might be in his sea of boxes. So he had borrowed some extra blankets from Ellen and made Teddy a makeshift cocoon on his mattress, and it seemed like one minute Teddy was complaining about the weird sleeping arrangement (“It’s an adventure,” Sam had reminded him) and the next he was sound asleep.

  That was either the lingering remnants of jet lag, Sam thought, or exhaustion brought on by endless whining.

  Sam left Teddy sleeping in his bed and wandered into his own bedroom, yawning. He was knackered himself. Maybe it was time to call an end to this first day in their new house. The first days were always the worst. You’ll feel better when you’re settled, Ellen had said on her way out the door that evening, and Sam agreed. Sam wanted it to be the second day in the house already, then the third day, the fourth day, the eighty-fourth day. Sam wanted it to be some time in the future when the house around them would feel like a home. When he would be used to the shadows on his bedroom ceiling, to the locations of the lights. They just needed to get through the first day, and they almost had.

  Sam changed and brushed his teeth and crawled into his own cocoon on the mattress. And he had just closed his eyes when a cacophony began on the wall behind his bed. Not the wall that adjoined the old man’s house—that was quiet as a tomb—but the wall that was shared with the neighbors he hadn’t met yet.

  These neighbors were playing the drums.

  Granted, it was early still, so Sam understood that some noise was still to be expected. Nevertheless.

  Sam turned and snorted helpless laughter into his pillow, thinking of Ellen’s comment about the wild parties Sam ought to throw. Ellen would definitely approve of the non-old-man neighbors, he thought.

  Chapter 2

  Ellen: Need help unpacking? Can bring two teenage girls over to help. Only minor whining accompanied.

  Sam: Not necessary! Don’t mind us, we’ll bother you enough in the future, I’m sure.

  On Day Two of their New Life, Sam unpacked boxes containing Christmas decorations and Teddy’s saved baby clothes and questioned his ability to label things properly, since the boxes had been labeled KITCHEN.

  Teddy sat outside, visited at times by the dog he’d met the day before, who Sam verified was the same dog he’d seen with the old man next door.

  “He belongs to the neighbor,” Sam informed Teddy. “We should take him back to the neighbor.”

  “He’ll go back when he’s ready,” Teddy said, stroking the dog, who was sprawled happily at his feet and watching the trees for squirrels. “I don’t want him to feel like he’s not welcome.”

  Since Teddy looked the happiest Sam had seen him since setting foot on British soil, Sam decided not to raise a fuss about the trespassing dog. In fact, he experienced a pang of envy for the dog. Dogs never had to unpack things. Dogs never had enough possessions to unpack. Dogs might be onto something.

  Teddy’s adventure that day was the dog showing it knew how to roll over. Sam’s adventure that day was finally locating a relevant box of kitchen accoutrements under six other thoroughly irrelevant boxes.

  On Day Three of their New Life, Sam unpacked an entire box of old wrapping paper and thought his packing skills would be less embarrassing if he’d been drunk while the packing had been going on. Teddy reported at dinner that the dog chased a squirrel and that had been very adventurous.

  Sam said, “Don’t you think you should get outside and meet some of the other kids on the street?”

  Teddy said, “You want me to just go knocking on doors looking for kids to play with? What if one of our neighbors is an axe murderer? You don’t know. They’re all strangers.”

  The
se were very wise points, so Sam considered and then said, “My adventure today was surviving another day with a potential axe murderer for a neighbor.”

  Teddy grinned.

  The fine weather turned gray and wet on Day Four of their New Life and Sam dropped and shattered an entire box full of plates and Teddy kept fretting because he hadn’t seen the dog all day. Sam decided to get them both out of the house and run to the high street to purchase more.

  “We can’t live without plates,” Sam told Teddy.

  “Why not?” asked Teddy reasonably, following Sam down the aisle. “It’s not like we cook.”

  “I need something to reheat the takeaway on,” Sam replied.

  “We could just use paper plates,” suggested Teddy.

  “Someday we might have people over, and then I’ll want to be able to offer them proper crockery,” said Sam.

  “Who?” asked Teddy skeptically. “Who would we have over other than Aunt Ellen and Sophie and Evie?”

  “I don’t know.” Sam tried to decide if he wanted plain white plates or maybe something with a design. “Maybe if you make some friends.”

  “You haven’t made any friends,” Teddy pointed out.

  “Good point,” said Sam, because it was. Part of the reason he’d moved back home was to give himself an opportunity to make more friends. “Maybe I’ll make friends.”

  Teddy looked his usual level of dubious.

  “You don’t think I can make friends?” said Sam.

  “Making friends is hard, Dad,” said Teddy. “You don’t just . . . do it.”

  Sam looked up from his contemplation of plate possibilities, at Teddy standing in the aisle looking bored and lost and . . . very young still. Very young, in a world that exhausted Sam, and he had decades of experience dealing with it. Very young, in a whole new country, and with only his dad keeping all of the vast unknown of it at bay.

  There were probably a million things Sam could say, none of which he was going to say in the middle of a shop, choosing plates.

  He said, “You’re right. Why don’t I give it a try for both of us?”

  Teddy looked away from the shelves, met Sam’s gaze. “Give what a try?”

  “Making friends,” said Sam. “I’ll sort the making-friends thing. It is hard, and the hard things are my job.”

  Teddy leveled his dubious gaze on Sam. “You’re going to make friends?”

  “You needn’t sound so skeptical,” said Sam, a trifle put-out. He knew Teddy was always very skeptical of him, but Teddy ought at least to have confidence in his dad’s friend-making abilities.

  “With who?” Teddy asked.

  “I think it’s ‘with whom,’ ” said Sam.

  “Really?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But I will find people to be friends with.”

  “What people?” Teddy insisted, not to be deterred from his line of questioning.

  Sam said the first thing that came into his head. “The neighbors.”

  * * *

  Bill was frowning into his display cabinet, at what seemed to him to be an unusually small number of glasses. He supposed it was possible he’d broken one or two over the years, but the number in his cupboard now was impossible to believe.

  “When Agatha and I got married, we had a full set of glasses,” Bill told Jack. “I know we did. They looked so beautiful in this display cabinet. Agatha was so pleased when I finished it. She loved to show off the glasses and the crockery and whatever else we had in here.” Bill peered into the shelves, dusty and much emptier now than he ever remembered them being when Agatha was alive.

  Jack looked suitably concerned about the sparse interior of the display cabinet.

  Bill said, “And I just can’t imagine where those glasses went over the years. I just can’t imagine where half the things I used to have went. I can’t imagine they’re being stolen. I mean, I know you can’t trust people these days, but who would want to steal some glasses?”

  Jack tipped his head and wagged his tail a little bit.

  Bill sighed and said, “You’re right, it’s probably unlikely anyone’s stealing my glasses.” He took one out of the cupboard and filled it with water. “I’ve probably just misplaced them over the years. Probably misplaced a lot of things.” Bill ran a hand over the finish of the display cabinet, remembering how much Agatha had loved it, how fond she had been of the simple carving ornamentation he’d added. Art deco, she’d called it, as if it had been as posh as all that. Bill said, “Everything feels like yesterday, except when you stop to take stock of how much has been lost.”

  * * *

  Teddy hadn’t seen Jack all day, and when he walked out into the back garden to look for him, he heard the girl next door obviously playing fetch with him.

  Teddy, disapproving, marched back inside, where Dad was stacking the new plates into a cupboard.

  “The neighbor has stolen the dog,” Teddy announced, with the appropriate level of drama.

  “The dog belongs to the neighbor,” Dad replied.

  “No.” Teddy shook his head. “Not that neighbor. The girl next door. She’s outside playing with the dog right now.”

  “Oh, good,” said Dad. “Perfect opportunity for you to go and introduce yourself.”

  “You’re the one making friends with the neighbors,” Teddy reminded Dad, because sometimes Dad forgot everything.

  Dad gave Teddy one of his looks. “She’s around your age and you both love that dog. You already have a connection.”

  “That’s not a connection,” said Teddy. “Everyone loves dogs. She’s stolen the dog.”

  “Nobody’s stolen the dog,” said Dad. Because Dad just didn’t get it.

  * * *

  Pari had hatched a brilliant plan. If she couldn’t get Jack into her own house, she could get Jack into Emilia’s house, which would be almost the same thing, since they spent so much time over there.

  “One of us has to take Jack in before the winter comes,” Pari informed Emilia.

  Emilia lifted her eyebrows. “Winter’s a long way away.”

  “Right. But we need to have our plan in place. For instance, do you have a bed for Jack?”

  “A bed?”

  “He probably likes a bed.”

  “Jack sleeps at the old man’s, doesn’t he?” Emilia pointed out.

  “Yeah, but he can’t possibly like that,” said Pari. “I don’t think he stays with that old man out of choice. Would you stay with that old man, if you had any choice otherwise? I mean, the old man smells. I bet his whole house smells. And I bet that really bothers Jack, because dogs have good noses.”

  “The old man smells?” said Sai, barely looking up from where he was glued to a documentary on Emilia’s telly. “When have you ever even been close enough to the old man to figure out that he smells?”

  Pari shot him a look.

  Emilia said, “What are you doing over there?”

  “I’m trying to learn about baby chimpanzees,” Sai said, “but it’s hard with Pari babbling on about stealing Jack.”

  “I’m not stealing him!” Pari protested. “He should have been mine after he got left behind!”

  “Why do you need to know about baby chimpanzees?” asked Emilia.

  “Because my mum and dad think I spend all day at the library.”

  “So they think you’re learning about baby chimpanzees?” said Emilia.

  “Well, I’ve got to be learning about something, don’t I? Dad wants me learning about something that could be a career. Could baby chimpanzees be a career?”

  “I guess if you’re going to be a vet.”

  “I could be a vet. Almost like being a doctor.”

  “And if you’re going to be a vet, then you need a patient to practice on!” exclaimed Pari. “Jack could be your first patient.”

  “Sai doesn’t actually know how to take care of a dog,” said Emilia.

  “It’s really easy,” Pari said. “You just feed him and give him water and
play with him a lot. So can he live here?”

  Emilia blinked. “What? Jack? Live here?”

  “Yeah. So Sai can practice on him.”

  “No,” Emilia said. “We have cats. Jack won’t get along with the cats.”

  “The cats almost always stay upstairs,” said Pari. “Jack could stay downstairs. Your mum and dad are hardly ever home. They’d never notice you having a dog.”

  “They’d notice. The cats’d be fretful. Mum’d notice the cats being fretful. Mum notices everything about the cats.”

  “So that just leaves us,” Pari said. “We have to take Jack in before the winter comes. Otherwise how will he survive outside in the winter?”

  “The same way he survives outside now,” said Sai. “We don’t live in Antarctica.”

  “That is very cruel of you,” said Pari primly.

  “Now, shh, I feel like this is an important point for me to remember about the baby chimpanzee.”

  * * *

  Pari and Sai walked home in the afternoon, slipping through the gardens the way they always did. They could see Mum in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a few baskets full of welcoming gifts for someone who knew a bunch of families who were just coming over, or something. Pari couldn’t keep up with all of Mum’s goings-on.

  Pari put a hand on Sai’s arm, to stop him from going inside, and said, “Can you back me up on this?”

  Sai looked blank. “On what?”

  Pari whacked the back of Sai’s head.

  “Ow!” Sai exclaimed, rubbing it like Pari had hit it hard or something.

  “Emilia always does that to make you be clever.”

  “Emilia barely taps me when she does it!” Sai protested.

  “Can you back me up on us needing to adopt Jack to help you be a vet?”

  “Pari,” Sai sighed.

  “I back you up on not telling Mum and Dad about you and Emilia,” Pari pointed out.

  Sai sighed again, rolled his eyes up to the sky, and then finally said, “Ugh, okay, fine, yes.”

  Pari, pleased, smiled at Sai. “If we can get Mum to agree, then we can get Jack.”