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A Puppy Called Hugo. Fiona Harrison
Читать онлайн.Название A Puppy Called Hugo
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008256807
Автор произведения Fiona Harrison
Жанр Домашние Животные
Издательство HarperCollins
‘He’s not that bad, Dad.’ Gail bridled, as she, Sal and Jen helped Doreen replace the flowers in the vase.
In that moment I loved my owner more than I ever thought possible. Even after all Hugo had done today, she was still defending him.
‘Hugo, come here now, please,’ I ordered from my place next to Peg. ‘Just stay out of the way while Doreen and Eric sort themselves out.’
Obediently, Hugo did just as I asked and, as I gave him a lick, I exchanged a worried glance with Peg. There was no way our son would find his forever home with behaviour like that.
Jenny sat next to Sal on the edge of Doreen’s brown leather sofa and grinned at us. ‘Don’t feel too bad, you guys, it’s hard being a parent.’
Doreen let out a low chuckle as Eric returned to his crossword and she took a seat next to her granddaughter. ‘Know all about it do you, chicken?’
Jenny shrugged as she bent down to kiss my head. ‘No, ‘course not, but I know Mum and Dad had a pretty tough time when I was sick. It can’t be easy raising a family, that’s all I’m trying to say.’
‘Oh bless you, child.’ Doreen smiled, kissing Jenny’s cheek. ‘Why weren’t you more enlightened at this age, Gail?’
Sal roared with laughter. ‘Yes, Gail, why weren’t you more enlightened?’
I looked up at Gail and watched as she spat her tea everywhere. ‘What’s that supposed to mean, Mum?’
‘Nothing.’ Doreen sniffed. ‘Just our Jenny has a very wise head on very young shoulders.’
‘You’re not wrong there,’ Sal agreed, smiling at Jenny.
‘Very true,’ I barked in agreement.
Gail raised an eyebrow. ‘And while it might be true, Mum, if you want a hand getting these boxes unpacked I’d start singing my praises, and possibly Sal’s as well as Jenny’s if I were you.’
‘Fair enough.’ Doreen chuckled, her green eyes radiating the same kindness as her daughter’s. ‘You know I think the world of you, you’re my favourite child!’
‘I’m your only child,’ Gail said, returning her grin. ‘I’m so happy you’ve moved here, it’ll be wonderful having you and Dad on the doorstep.’
Getting to her feet, she pulled her mother in for a hug.
Doreen returned her daughter’s hug, and rubbed her back as if she were no more than Ben’s age. ‘And it’ll be wonderful for us having you so close by. We’ve missed you.’
‘And we’ve missed you,’ Jenny cried.
She rushed towards her mum and gran and wrapped her arms around them. I gulped, I didn’t want to miss out on a family hug. Together with Peg and Hugo, we bounded towards the women and pushed our noses into their laps and knees, much to their delight.
‘They’re everywhere.’ Jenny giggled in delight.
‘Oh you dogs are gorgeous.’ Doreen smiled, bending down to smother us with kisses.
‘And we think you’re gorgeous,’ Hugo barked, licking her hand.
‘But not as gorgeous as Peg and Gail,’ I barked loyally.
Gail beamed down at me, and planted a sloppy kiss on my snout. ‘Percy, you’re the best boy in the entire world.’
I howled in delight. There was nothing nicer than being surrounded by family.
As we broke apart, Sal glanced balefully at a box marked ‘outdoors’. ‘Shall I take this out to the garage?’
Doreen flashed her a grateful smile as she got to her feet. ‘Thanks, love.’
‘And I should get cracking as well.’ Gail smiled, as she finished her second cupcake. ‘Where do you want me?’
Doreen handed her daughter a pair of scissors and gestured to a box with black writing all over it. ‘The pots and pans are in that one,’ she explained. ‘Can you give your father a hand with them in the kitchen. He knows where everything goes.’
Nodding, Gail picked up the box and turned to Eric who was still engrossed in the paper.
‘Are you ready, Dad?’ she asked.
Eric glanced up from the crossword in surprise. ‘Ready for what?’
‘To help me unpack the kitchen stuff,’ Gail replied patiently.
Eric looked blank as he scratched the bald patch on top of his head. ‘If you want, love, though I don’t know where any of it goes.’
‘You do,’ sighed Doreen in exasperation. ‘We discussed it not half an hour ago!’
‘Did we?’ Eric narrowed his blue eyes in confusion.
‘Yes! What’s wrong with you?’ she grumbled. ‘You’re always forgetting things these days.’
‘Am I?’ Eric asked, his blue eyes rich with surprise.
‘Yes!’ Doreen sighed again.
Gail raised her hand in between the two of them.
‘Come on, you two, there’s no sense arguing now. Dad,’ she said, turning to Eric, ‘why don’t you come and help me with all this. I’m sure that together we can work out where everything’s meant to go.’
Eric put down the crossword and obediently got to his feet. ‘All right, love.’
Together they trotted off to the kitchen leaving Doreen alone in the living room. As she set her teacup on the coffee table, she sank her head into her hands.
Watching the rise and fall of her shoulders, I suddenly realised she was crying. Turning to Peg, I gave a little bark of worry and we padded across to the elderly woman.
Getting nearer, I saw her body was wracked with sobs. I was dumbstruck. Doreen always put a brave face on things and I had rarely seen her cry, not even when Jenny was so poorly. She was known for her strength, something Gail had relied upon when they had faced difficult times.
Exchanging worried glances with Peg, we did the only thing we pugs can do in times of crisis. We used our tongues to mop up Doreen’s salty tears, determined to be there for as long as she needed us.
‘Do you think she’s all right?’ I whined quietly to Peg in between licks.
‘Fine,’ she yapped in reply. ‘She’s probably just upset because she’s tired with the move. It’s very distressing you know, upending your home.’
As Doreen’s cries became quieter and she stroked each of us in turn, I moved my head and crawled onto her lap to show her how much I loved her. Breathing in her warm, homely scent, my doggy instinct fired on all cylinders as something told me there was something very wrong indeed.
The next morning I woke to what I could only assume was all hell breaking loose. Opening my eyes and sitting bolt upright in my basket in the kitchen, I tried to make sense of the scene playing out in front of me.
Gail was standing at the stove, balancing a screaming baby Ben on one hip and heating his bottle with the other hand. At the table, Jenny was bellowing into her mobile phone, making plans to meet a friend at the cinema, while Simon was sat at the pine kitchen table engrossed in paperwork and furiously typing away at his laptop.
Blearily coming to, I looked around for Hugo, but he wasn’t in his basket or in the garden. Anxiously, I padded