Silas Nash Book 1: Hush Hush Honeysuckle: Chapter Nine (a)

Dogs shouldn’t be on beds. Tell that to Mia, who, in the space of hours, captivated Max. If he could give her a good home for the rest of her life, he’d have been in love. He hardened his heart and knew he had to give her up. She cuddled into him and made his bedding stink, but he didn’t care. She was in need of a bath and a flea and worm treatment, too, not to mention vaccinations—although, with what she’d been through, she probably had one of the strongest immune systems in the country. True to Anthrax, her former name, laboratories could have taken blood samples from her to make vaccines for a multitude of diseases. However, Max told himself she was the best woman that had ever been in his bed. Women let you down, but dogs don’t. And it was with a heavy heart that he made the decision to rehome her—and there was only one home that was good enough for this little girl. He was ready for a fight when he reached for his phone.

‘Jon, my old cocker who never lets me down. I need a favour. It’s a big one, and I’m dying, so you can’t say no.’

‘Max? It’s seven in the morning. What the hell?’

‘Tell you when I get there.’

‘Have you any idea how impossible you are?’

‘I know. See you. And tell the kids I’ve got a present for them.’

The night before, Mia had eaten him out of pocket. And with no idea how much dogs eat, he’d given her five digestive biscuits, half a packet of sliced ham and a bowl of cornflakes. He figured that as a responsible dog owner, he should probably get her something with a picture of a dog on the can. He left her in the house alone in case they ran into her former owner and bought her some awful tinned stuff. He was only gone five minutes because the shop was on the corner, but when he got back, he could hear her howling halfway down the street. Mia greeted him like the owner she’d never had.

He came to regret the canned food, or maybe it was the cornflakes, but through the night, he was physically assaulted by the most noxious farts he’d ever smelt. In a toxicity competition, they would have outshone Chernobyl. She didn’t seem in the least embarrassed when he called her out on them. Jesus, who knew a lady could smell like that? She just stretched and rolled on her back for him to stroke her belly. She’d become used to being loved pretty damn quickly. He was amazed at her resilience.

Mia didn’t want to leave the house when he put her lead on. Maybe she thought he was taking her back to Wankstain. He talked to her as they drove to Jon’s house and told her what a great life she’d have. Mia wasn’t convinced.

‘Hey, kids. Come see what I’ve got.’ Max knocked on the door and walked in. He stood at the bottom of the stairs with Mia, who looked inquisitive and less scared than the day before but still very timid regarding the unknown.

Carter took the stairs two at a time, and Lucy clattered down behind him.

‘No way.’ Carter said, ‘A dog? For us? Wait till Dad finds out.’

Lucy opened her mouth to squeal, and Max shushed her before she made a sound. He stopped her charging up to Mia and smothering her with love. A Lucy squeal could make dolphins cover their ears in the South Pacific.

‘She’s had a pretty tough life, kids, and the thing she needs most now is calm, quiet and love. Go into the lounge, and let’s introduce you properly.’

He made them sit down and released Mia from her lead. She clung to Max’s leg until curiosity got the better of her, and she was in rapture, getting stroked by two kind human beings.

He heard Emily shouting before he saw her, and there were some colourful swear words in there. ‘I’m not having it, Jonathan. You tell him, or I will.’

Max got up and left the room, closing the door behind him, but not before he made sure Jon saw how happy his kids were.

‘Before you say anything, think about it. Are you really going to break your children’s hearts?’

‘Not happening, mate. Not this time. You’re not going to do this to me. You brought it in here. You go and tell the kids you made a mistake.’

‘Can’t. Jon, I’m saying it this time without bullshit or messing with you. I’ve only got a few months left, and that dog needs a home more than any other poor animal you’ve ever seen. She’s my legacy, and you are my best friends.’

Emily had joined them in the kitchen. ‘I don’t know if I should give you this coffee or throw it at you. We can’t have a dog. We work all day for one thing, and for another, Jon is allergic.’

‘Hah, no, he isn’t. Got you. He had a Saturday job in the local kennels when he was fourteen. Try again, love. And as for everything else, I’ve thought of that. I’m going to set you up for her entire life. I’m paying for a dog walker for her. An hour a day, allowing for inflation, I’ve provided enough to cover it.’

‘Max?’ Jon said.

‘Vaccinations, insurance, and everything else, all sorted. Check your bank account I’ve already transferred the money. Emily, if you’d seen this bloke booting the hell out of her, you’d have done the same. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t. And she’s the sweetest little thing, no trouble at all. You might want to give her a bath, though.’

‘You’re a dick, Maxwell Jones,’ Emily said, but at least she was smiling.

‘And you wouldn’t have me any other way.’

‘We can’t take her. It’s too much to ask.’

‘You have to. There’s nobody else, and the kids already love her. Please say you’ll do it.’

‘And in which world, other than Maxville, do you think it’s all right to put us in this position and bring the dog into our home without asking us first?’

‘In Maxville, friends will do anything to help an animal who’s out of options and a mate that’s begging you.’

‘A trial,’ Emily said. ‘Okay, we’ll take her on a trial, and if it doesn’t work, you’re going to have to rethink.’

‘Deal. You’ll love her.’

Jonathan knew he was beaten, but it didn’t stop him from sulking.

‘I’ve never wanted to punch you in the face more than I do right now.’

‘And you think you could?’

‘No, I wouldn’t stand a chance. I’m still that ginger kid you had to protect. But it doesn’t stop me from wanting to. You’re a bastard, you know.’

‘Yeah, tell it to the choir.’

They’d met when they were eight. Max and his mate, Bobby, were collecting conkers in Barrow Park and argued about who had the most, the best, and the one that would win in a match. By the lake, they heard shouting and saw some kids throwing another lad into the water. Max and Bobby grabbed sticks, yelled their heads off in a Barrovian war cry as they ran down the bank, and they saw the kids off. They helped a ginger kid out of the lake and pretended not to notice that he was crying. From there, for the next few years, the three were inseparable during the holidays whilst Jon’s little sister, Fiona, was desperate to join them, and they systematically excluded her from their club. He remembered one occasion when they’d said she could play with them. They tied her to a tree and ran around it with air tomahawks, and they patted their mouth to make whoop-whoop noises. It was okay to play that game then, encouraged, in fact. It was good exercise in the fresh air, though, maybe tying a little girl to a tree was going too far. And they were called Red Indians back then, not Native Americans. The name indicating colour sounded so much better to a child playing out their heroes. Max had taken a course on discrimination and another on inclusion—but not back then. In that time and age, people were just people, and they were fun to emulate. It wouldn’t be allowed now.

When they’d stopped running around the tree and were breathless, Max was the first to speak. ‘Now, we’re going to make the fire at your feet and burn you up. Let’s gather the wood, men.’

Fiona wailed. And then she screamed.

‘Stop, Max. You’re frightening her.’ Jon liked winding his softie sister up, but he was still a protective older brother. Max gathered wood from the copse behind them, and as he bent over to pick up a twig, Jon piled into him and punched him in the nose. Max turned, and they rolled and tumbled on the grass. There was blood loss to both member states and two bust noses. Max sauntered out of it, and Jon cried with a bust nose and two black eyes. They cut Fiona loose, and they all went home for tea. Happy days.